#and second of all i understand its not good that your birth mother had to give you up for some reason that's very unfortunate

[countess-of-edessa]

idk what exact conclusion to draw about this but of all the families who have ever adopted children that i have known of, only three adoptees (two who are sisters) who really still like and are on good terms with their family. and one of those families had at least one older adopted child who ended up involved in such dangerous things as an adult and was threatening the lives of their then-infant daughters so they had to cut contact with him. literally every other adopted child i have ever known or whose family i have known have gotten into drugs, gotten teenage pregnant, gotten into crime, or all three, in families where that behavior was as discouraged as possible and in environments where none of their peers displayed similar behavior. and these kids were pretty much all adopted as infants, not as older children after experiencing traumatic events. i mean, i assume the subconscious trauma of being separated from one's mother could influence how the brain develops but idk. i'm not anti-adoption by any means obviously but i feel like there has to be a way to develop better outcomes for kids who are adopted.

[hellishjoel]

reborn

1.4k / pairing: jackson!joel miller x f!reader

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summary: Joel’s long hair is a testament to a long life in Jackson, Wyoming. He hasn’t had time to get it cut since the birth of his daughter. 

warnings/information:  joel’s long hair appreciation post!!!!!, fluff, established relationship, a little swearing, soft!joel, girl dad!joel, jackson!joel, mother f!reader, ellie and joel are just fine okay!!, obvious maria appreciation, reader doesn’t have a physical appearance but has given birth

A/N: this is super short and I wrote it in 24 hours - you all know why we’re here, we saw that new picture of long haired joel miller and yadayadayada now we’re here! graphics by @saradika-graphics

There’s a new baby in Jackson. 

One more teeny tiny resident. The population sign must be repainted to acknowledge its three hundred and fifth resident. 

And she’s your little girl. 

She’s not just perfect, she’s the center of your universe. Wrapped in a freshly hand-washed baby pink blanket, a testament to the hours of labor in Jackson’s makeshift delivery room. Joel held your hand throughout. 

This was his second child, but his first with you. The flood of emotions was overwhelming, and you promised to stand by him, even if you could never truly understand the pain tangled with newfound joy. 

But you should have seen the way his eyes softened at the first sight of her. Everything changed, for the both of you. His once-buried fatherly instincts took over, walking with the delivery nurse from your bed to the small cleaning station. He couldn’t let her out of his sight.

Already so protective and wound around her little finger from the moment she took her first breath and wailed her first cry. 

Scream it, little one, tell the world you’re here and that you’re ours. You are already so loved with your big glowing eyes and round cheeks, your small hands curled into your chest, and you kick your tiny little feet. Stomp, roar, live. 

You’re born into the most dangerous time in history, but your parents are here to protect you. The moment your baby girl was born, you and Joel were reborn. 

One month old, and nothing has changed. Except for your and Joel’s sleep schedules. Tommy gave Joel temporary leave from patrol duties, which Joel did not protest. He found it impossible some days to leave the house for food and supplies. 

Ellie was helpful. Despite no blood relation, she and Joel shared many qualities. She didn’t let you lift a finger if she could help it. She had moved into the garage a few months back. After all, she was a teenager who loved having space.

“You sure you don’t just wanna move back inside the house, Ellie?” She was here more often than not, and her company and help were dearly appreciated.

“And wake up to a crying baby twelve times in the middle of the night? I love you guys, but no thanks,” she teased as you playfully rolled your eyes. 

“That’s fair. But the offer still stands.”

Ellie shrugs nonchalantly and lands beside you on the couch, laying her head on your shoulder as you both stare lovingly down at the baby sleeping soundly in your arms. 

“I know, but you should make my old room the baby’s new one. Besides, Joel just set up my stereo, and I blast that thing non-stop. No baby is gonna like that.” 

“Oh, trust me, we know.” You whisper as you kiss the top of her head, your cheek nudging against her brunette tresses tied back into a ponytail.

Ellie cooks some sort of monstrosity in the kitchen upon Joel’s return from Tommy and Maria’s. He holds piles of Maria’s hand-sewn diapers and onesies. She was a God send, a woman you consider a Jill of all trades. 

Oh, Maria. She always desired that Jackson would not fall into turmoil like most of the country had surely found its way to. In her eyes, Jackson would remain a thriving and welcoming community to those who were good of heart. 

That woman worked to the bone to ensure that Jackson’s residents were safe and happy. Living here was like living in a snow globe, safe from the outside world and protected from danger. 

As the de facto leader of the Jackson settlement, she wore many hats. From trading and supplies to security and community welfare, Maria made it her mission to ensure that all new families found their new home in Jackson to be an inviting one—a safe haven from their old lives and here to start anew. 

“Maria bartered for new cotton,” Joel whispers as he enters the living room, quiet so as not to stir the baby. 

“She did?” You ask softly, sitting up slightly as you feel his hand cup your cheek from above, tilting your head back so he can give you a proper kiss. 

“Yeah, she was gonna try and find somethin’ alternative to cotton for the diapers, but they set her up with some scavenged materials and clothing to make lots of diapers out of. Plus, gave her some stuff to cultivate it here. Y’know, be self-sufficient.” 

“Wow,” you mutter tiredly, rubbing at your eyes as your daughter begins to twitch in your arms. “I think she hears her daddy’s voice.” 

Joel cooes softly, quick to drop the items off on the kitchen counter with haphazard abandon. He grunts quietly as his knees scream for rest until he sits beside you on the couch with open palms. You delicately hand him the baby, and his eyes twinkle at the sight of her. He was adorably cute when he baby-babbled, though he swears he never does. 

“Hi sweet wittle girl, pretty pwincess, did you have a good day with mommy?” 

It takes you this long to realize how much his hair has grown out. Your fingers softly weave into the greying curls, twirling one around your finger before you let it fall into its natural waves. 

“It’s so long, baby,” you whisper like honey.

He lets out a quiet chuckle and absentmindedly leans into your touch. “I’know. Haven’t had time to get it cut,” he turns his attention back to the little girl swaddled in his arms, “and I think I know who’s been keepin’ me so damn busy.” 

You hum and gently clutch the curls at the nape of his neck, truly in awe of how long they were. You’ve never seen him let it get this long. As Joel would say, this is Tommy long. But was there really a look he couldn’t pull off?

“I, uh, I don’t want you to cut it.” Your words come off shy and sweet, making him melt as he slowly turns to look at you with a raised brow. 

“Is that so?” His southern twang rolls freely off his tongue. 

“Mhm, you look so handsome. I think I would cry if you got rid of that thick mane of yours.” 

He chuckles again, a low and sultry one. “Alright. I’ll keep puttin’ up with it.”

“Mmm, please do. It’s sorta doin’ somethin’ for me.” 

Joel pauses and watches as the aging sunlight shines over your face. He takes your hand in his large calloused one and squeezes, circling his thumb along your wrist. “You’ve given me a life I sometimes don’t feel like I deserve. A happy one. I don’t think there’s a way I can ever say thank you or I love you enough for how my life has turned out. Without you, I might be dead.”

“Oh, Joel,” you whisper as you rest your forehead against his own, both of your eyes falling closed. “You are deserving of every moment of happiness in this life. You make my life worth living. You saved us.” 

Joel lets out a wet chuckle, kissing the tip of your nose before meeting your lips delicately. 

In this light, the amber glow of the sun setting just beyond the walls outside, he’s so handsome. It truly makes your heart skip a beat. After all these years of pain, loss, and suffering, Joel is happy. It’s all you’ve ever wanted to make him. 

During the first few weeks in this new and unfamiliar settlement, Joel would shoot up in the middle of the night, upset that he had fallen asleep. He hadn’t slept in a home with four solid walls in so long, none of you had. You remember the first night he slept soundly, snoring like a madman and nuzzling into his pillow. He was safe. There were no clickers in waiting, no scavengers to fend off. His people were protected. He could breathe. 

Never did you once think that at the ends of the world, there would be room for you to feel like this. Reborn. It led you to Joel and Ellie and continued with your baby girl. Your lives are getting a second chance. 

You didn’t know how long it would stay like this because nothing was forever. But you would wake up tomorrow morning and run a hand through Joel’s hair, through the pretty curls that tickled his neck, and the opportunity for it to keep growing would be another sign that your lives weren’t ending. They were only just beginning.

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[schoenpepper]

Despite Everything (It's Still You)

Intro: When he looks at you, he sees everything he could have been.

Warnings: bad grammar, awful writing, not proofread, kinda angsty, more platonic im pretty sure cus its not specified if ur lovers, might be ooc idk and idc, everytime i write idia i feel 10 years older because i cringe at my own internet slang

A/N: Done! Last request is finished, hope you like it worm anon. On my end, this is super rushed and it's not like, my fave ever so ehhhh.

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Riddle thought he’d found a comrade in you. Out of everyone in Twisted Wonderland, he’d thought you would be the one to understand him.

He sees it in your posture, always straight and never slouching. You’re good with academics, a diligent student. Like Riddle, you’d gone through life with the iron fist of a well-meaning parent, so surely, you understand him, right? You agree with him. You believe that rules are important to be upheld lest society fall into chaos. It’s such a refreshing feeling to find a person who, like him, thinks that structure and stability are core values of a proper community.

But you don’t. You don’t understand. No one does. His consciousness is flickering between ink and reality. He’s slipping into the grasp of the phantom and he feels himself slowly being consumed. He’s being devoured. Right before the overblot, even you had stood against him. Why? Riddle wasn’t wrong, he was never wrong—the rules aren’t wrong. Because if they are, then what did he lose his entire childhood for? So you must be the one at fault. This is your mistake. You just don’t understand. You tell him that the rules and the competence and the structure matter less than people. You try to convince him that there’s a better way of living. Is there?

Riddle doesn’t know why. He’d thought you were a comrade because he saw his own experiences in yours, but he’d never been so wrong. While he was still caught up in the chains of his mother’s words, you’d already broken free from the cage. You help him to reclaim the shards of childish wonder he’d never been allowed to have. You help him learn how to breathe, how to relax. Little by little, you bring him onto your path.

He doesn’t understand you anymore.

Leona doesn’t have any opinions about you. You never really talked to him at first, and he can respect that; you don’t go out of your way for bothersome, meaningless things.

Every time he sees you, you’re sleeping or slacking off. Whatever, it’s not like he can judge you for it. You also have a real competitive streak for spelldrive, and your wit’s not half bad, especially when compared to the muscle heads in his dorm. Clever and snarky, talented and strong. He can respect you. Maybe just barely, and he’ll never admit it, but he sees a part of himself in you. So, a sort-of equal. He’s still better than you though.

The taste of sand lingers on his tongue as it swirls in the air through the storm. There’s a part of himself he can no longer control. It makes him wrap his fingers around Ruggie’s throat and Leona… He doesn’t want this. But he can’t stop. He can still recognize you on the edge of his vision. Weren’t you just like him? At birth, everything good was handed right over to your older sibling, leaving nothing but scraps for you. You found it unfair too, didn’t you? So why are you standing against him? This is his chance to be someone worth more than his birthright. Why…are you not agreeing with him?

Leona tried to stay away from you. But call it his instinct or whatever; he can’t seem to avoid you at all. The second prince of Sunset Savanna is awestruck by your words. You tell him that birth doesn’t determine everything. You tell him that you’d learned from your own past. That you can still make something of yourself without that which was given. You sure are chatty now, but who is he to stop you?

You’re not his equal. You’d long since left him in the dust.

Azul sees you as an opportunity. He likes you, really, because you know how to do business and you find a way to compromise that doesn’t step on either person’s lines.

It’s not difficult for him to find out about your past, and to be honest, he’s greatly delighted to find out about all that you have in common. Did you feel the way he did when he was isolated and bullied? Did you feel his pain? You were an outcast too, weren’t you? But wow, look at you (and him) now! It’s rare he sees someone as diligent as himself, as cunning and as smart. Resourceful and oh so benevolent, you’d fit right into Octavinelle!

He’d steered himself long ago; he would never be weak again. He had long, long since forgotten humiliation and defeat. But he’s here again. This time, defeat was brought by your hands. Azul had thought you were allies. Business partners, at least. Why betray him like this? Don’t you get it? He’s powerful now! Why try to stop him? Why did you succeed? He’s left in the aftermath of heartache and debris. He doesn’t know why he did the things he did, but he’s sure that he was so close to being all-powerful. Perfect. A being so beautiful and flawless and strong… You took that chance away from him.

Azul wants you out of his life—your presence now is only a reminder of everything he could have been, and everything he failed to be. Unlike him, you’ve already moved on. You’ve learned to forgive your tormentors, and most importantly, you’ve learned to forgive yourself. You tell him that it was never his fault, but that revenge was never meant to be the answer.

He finds that he had nothing in common with you, after all.

Jamil is perceptive. Next to the one who’s attracting the attention of the whole room with a bright smile and sunny disposition, he finds a kindred spirit in you.

You seem responsible enough, and like a mirror, he sees you taking care of that person the way he does with Kalim. It’s easy to pierce through your act because he knows how to do it too. Seemingly not too smart, not too dumb, not too strong, not too weak. You’re good at pretending to be average. Like Jamil, you’ve lived a life of servitude. Are you tired of forced humility? Of feeling like your life isn’t worth anything when compared to the one you serve?

He’s tired too. He’s so, so tired. Why was freedom unreachable to Jamil right from the moment he was conceived? Was he unworthy of a life unbound by shackles? You’re looking at him like he’s a stranger. Jamil looks at you like you’re a mirror. A mirror that’s shattered, and damaged, and every piece is covered with ink and regret. You know what he’s been through, so why are you in his way? You should be an accomplice. Do you not yearn to be your own person? The phantom is whispering promises he knows it won’t keep. But nothing is more tempting than just…one day of happiness. Of his own happiness.

Jamil is inevitably drawn to you. You live so brightly; you see your master as a friend. You tell him he doesn’t need to do the same. That the only thing he needs to do is find a way that works for him. And you’re asking about things he hadn’t thought of before. An employment contract? The legal status of slavery in the Scalding Sands? Wait, you’re serving that person out of your own volition in exchange for salary and other related benefits?

In you, he sees a light at the end of the tunnel.

Vil approves of you. Like looking in a mirror almost, he sees beauty and a passionate drive to remain beautiful in every single way.

You’re a person with a consistent goal and a persistent drive to do better and be better; a hard worker with tenacity like that of the Queen herself. You are no potato. You are a diamond that has found a way to shine uniquely, and like him, you are already a master at your chosen profession. And yet, he sees the trophies and the medals are all silver and never gold. It is frustrating, but Vil knows that you as well know what it’s like to always be second best.

He’d worked so hard. He’d tried his very best. Professional music and choreography, styling and costumes. He’d set up a multi-week boot camp for his team members in order to whip them into shape. It’s all swept away by that person. Again. And again. And again and again and again and— No. No more. He will take matters into his own hands. But you stand in front of him with a familiar determination, only this time, you’re determined to stop him. Rook had betrayed him and now, you do too. Is he not worthy of a victory? Not even once? The blot is so, so ugly. But if it means he’ll get to wipe out everything that’s opposed to him, he’ll take that blot and use it to his own advantage. Like the queen who’d disguised herself as an ugly witch in order to take down the princess; everything can be sacrificed for the sake of ultimate beauty. If you’re not with him, you must be against him.

Vil apologizes sincerely for his faults. He knows he was wrong, even if it hurts his pride to admit it. But you accept him so easily, so readily, he can’t believe you’re acting like he’d never even hurt you. You forgive him. You help him accept his losses and continue to strive. Because you’d been in his position before, but you’d grown to be happy and appreciate the wins in life instead.

You are no mirror image of him. You are better.

Idia’s never been this happy before; through his screen is someone who just gets him. You’re good at games, and an introvert too? Score!

It’s not like, ever, that someone who vibes with his genius just comes strolling through his life, so Magicord bears witness to long, late night chats about anything and everything. You’ve got some real fucked up childhood trauma too, big mood tbh. It’s easy to spill his guts out over the internet, because even then, you still don’t really know him. You like the games and animes that he likes, and he’s so glad that for once, there’s a person out there who’s lived through the same villain-arc that he has.

He can’t rebuild the world if so many noobs are trying to stop him. Why? What’s so wrong with wishing for a world that can fit him and Ortho right in? Why is that too much for him to ask for? Why are you, the person he thought was his cool moots, acting up too? Don’t you like Ortho? Bro…no…you’re not actually doing a protagonist monologue rn, are you? Seriously? You think you can defeat him and his phantom through the power of friendship? Lolz, you’re so lame. If the world was a fairytale, he wouldn’t have been born with this dumb curse. If the world was a fairytale, he would never have been trapped in STYX with no way out. If the world was a fairytale, Ortho would still be alive. But it’s not. So he’ll remake it to be the story he’d always dreamt it to be.

Idia thinks you’re 110% cringe, like actually barf-inducing. But you did kinda save him or whatevs, so he can put up with you. Like, begrudgingly yk. You’re just such a weirdo. He really thought you were just like him, but no. You’ve had therapy. That’s like, actually wild. You try to counsel him too, talking about feelings and whatnot, and how to move past grief so that it no longer consumes you from the inside out.

So it turns out you didn’t have a villain arc like Idia did. You’re the main hero.

Malleus finds you absolutely delightful. To see another who can speak to him without fear or nervousness is a marvelous thing that he cherishes.

You are no fae or long-lived species, but he finds you fascinating. You are intelligent and wise beyond your years. You are powerful in your own right. You are familiar, in every sense of the word. Even your experiences seem to be shared. You’d been orphaned too, and experienced loss and grieved. You’d mourned for far too many loved ones who have left before you. Do you see the present as he does? Do you embrace the past as he does?

The world is a sad, sad place. He would like to change it. Into one with happy ever afters, into one where there is no hunger and no poverty. There will be no suffering. In his hands, he will mold the world into one that is kinder to its people. There will be no death and separation. He’s had far too many of those, enough to last his long lifetime. He’s not wrong. So why…why do you stand against him, weapon pointed towards him? The only thing he wishes for is permanence. Do you not see the vision? There is so much sadness in the world, why do you choose to wake from your beautiful slumber and face it head on? No matter. He will help you, even if you deny him.

Malleus is more than happy to take your hand when it is outstretched towards himself. You teach him so many things he hadn’t realized before, like how to cherish the present and treasure each memory more than attempting to find a solution to make them everlasting. He had believed wholly that he was right; that the answer to death was a long period of dreams in which everyone lives in a happy ending. He had believed you to be similar to himself—he is wrong about many, many things.

You’ve always looked to a brighter future than he could even imagine.

[sansaorgana]

— LADY OF THE ROSES (III)

PART ONE || PART TWO || PART FOUR

PAIRING — Ser Gwayne Hightower x fem!Reader // Tyrell!OC

SUMMARY — Six moons of marriage have passed and an unexpected visit of Lord Jason Lannister causes Ser Gwayne and the new Lady Hightower to have their very first disagreement. Not long after, she gets pregnant with their first child.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — It’s written as an usual x Reader fic without describing anything about the Reader’s looks but I still classified it as an OC as well since she is a Tyrell. + You don’t have to know the previous chapters to understand this one. I wanted to include Gwayne and Reader having their first child in the previous part already but it was too long and the time skip would be too big so I decided to turn it into yet another chapter of the story. Since the pregnancy and birth would be quite boring, I added some drama with Lord Jason aka Reader's previous suitor from the first chapter (but the details are not required to be known if you haven't read the first part!). There will be one more part to this story for which I am very excited! 😊 Thank you for all the nice comments. 💚

WARNINGS — Lord Jason being himself, pregnancy, birth

WORD COUNT — 6,130

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

LADY OF THE ROSES (III)

First six moons of your marriage had passed by quickly and peacefully. You couldn’t believe it was half a year already and you were very pleased with how everything you had been so scared about turned out to be not so bad – performing marital duties was nothing but pleasure and fun, meanwhile running Oldtown could be exhausting sometimes but you still enjoyed it most of the time and you proudly held your head high while helping your husband with all his obligations around the city and the castle.

Having your own property with your own servants to order around was a good feeling, too. Not that you wanted to abuse the power that had been given to you but it was simply nice not to be someone’s daughter but your own Lady. Well, your husband’s – but he had never made you feel like that. Ser Gwayne Hightower was a chivalrous knight who was treating his duties and honour very seriously. He knew that being a husband did not only mean getting but it also meant giving. He was your protector and a shoulder to cry on, a strong hand to hold you and lead you and fight for you. You trusted him with your life and you would never doubt his loyalty to you.

Sometimes you wondered why had gods blessed you with such a good husband as you doubted if you had deserved him. Not that you were a bad person but you had your flaws – your pride, your stubbornness. Yet, you had not fought even once yet with your Lord Husband.

Well, once, nearly. Gwayne had suggested that perhaps you should start wearing more modest clothing because The Highgarden fashion was a bit too revealing for Oldtown. You had scoffed at that and he had not brought that up ever again.

You knew that The Highgarden fashion was considered too exposing for lots of regions of Westeros. Only Dornish women liked even riskier gowns but Oldtown was a part of The Reach so its people were not shocked to see a Tyrell Lady in a revealing dress. You had a feeling it was your Lord Husband’s personal preference because his own sister was known as a woman of strong faith and modesty like her mother before her.

Despite being Lady Hightower now, you still felt a very strong bond with The Tyrells. You always wore a golden ring with a rose on it and you loved all sorts of ornaments and decorations in the shapes of roses. You were corresponding with your Lady Mother and sisters every week and sometimes you were still signing the letters as Lady (Y/N) Tyrell – out of habit that was visibly saddening your husband whenever he’d catch you doing that.

Just like right now as you were sitting by your desk and Gwayne was handing out letters for you to sign them. Those were some official matters that he was supposed to send out to his vassals but ever since he was married and Oldtown had a Lady, he insisted on you both signing them even though it was not a popular custom for husbands to insist on such things.

You didn’t even read those letters since you trusted him as you mindlessly kept signing a letter after a letter. You gave him back the last one and he sighed, which made you look up and raise an eyebrow at him.

“What is it?” You asked.

“Lady (Y/N) Tyrell,” he read out loud and you felt bad at the sight of his sad expression.

“I am sorry,” you reached out to squeeze his wrist. “I was not focused enough,” you admitted.

“I shall rewrite this one,” Gwayne waved the letter in the air.

“No, I shall do it,” you took it from him gently. “Or will it be seen as something inappropriate when they realise it was the wife’s handwriting?”

“No, it won’t be,” Gwayne smiled at you and allowed you to take the letter. “Can I stay here and watch you work?”

“What kind of husband asks such a thing?” You chuckled at him. “Of course, my love,” you leaned into his hand as he caressed your cheek and you placed a soft kiss upon his fingers.

Gwayne sat in the armchair by the window inside your chambers. You would spend some of your days here but all nights so far you had slept with him. However, the chambers he had prepared for you were so beautiful that it would be a waste to never spend your time inside them.

You rewrote the letter and handed it for him to sign and then you could start working on answering the letters that were addressed to you specifically. Gwayne kept sitting in the armchair and looking at you, occasionally staring out of the window. It was peaceful and quiet and you wished that moment could last forever.

The next envelope on the pile of letters made you furrow your brows. It was red and the golden wax seal had The Lannister lion on it. You checked twice if it was really addressed to you and not to your Lord Husband but no, it was very clearly addressed to “Lady (Y/N) Hightower of Oldtown”.

“Weird,” you hummed to yourself when you opened the envelope with a small dagger, without breaking the seal.

“What is it, my darling?” Gwayne turned his head around to look at you since he had been gazing out of the window and staring at the water.

“It is from Lord Jason Lannister and it is addressed to me instead of you,” you told him. It felt quite inappropriate so you wanted your husband to know for you would never hide anything of such a matter from him.

Perhaps you would not be so suspicious about it if you didn’t have a history with Lord Jason. He had been one of your suitors and your father’s favourite. In fact, he had been plotting with your father behind everybody’s back to win the tournament for your hand and he had been playing dirty by using his knight brother to pretend to be him.

“And what does he want?” Gwayne crossed his arms.

“Well, allow me to read the letter first,” you rolled your eyes playfully as you began reading.

Gwayne was trying to be very patient but from the corner of your eye you could see that he was tapping his arms with his fingers and you found it pretty amusing so you read the letter three times before putting it down and taking a deep breath in as you laid your eyes on your husband.

“He wishes to visit us. He claims he was around for his friend’s wedding and he wishes to stay at The Hightower for the night on his way back home,” you explained.

“What friend, I’m wondering?” Gwayne snorted. “Oldtown is never on anyone’s way. It is usually a destination, not a stop.”

“He says his friend is Lord Bulwer, they are our vassals from Blackcrown. He must reach Oldtown to get on the Rose Road. It is a faster way to get back to Casterly Rock than to travel alongside the shore,” you explained because, sadly, Lord Jannister’s excuse sounded very realistic. “Well?” You asked Gwayne. “We must give him an answer.”

“We are not in a state of war with The Lannisters, are we? We shall let him stay for the night,” your husband sighed and stood up to read the letter himself as if he wanted to make sure there was nothing inappropriate in it.

In the meantime, you began working on a reply letter to Lord Jason Lannister. Your husband kept standing behind you and examining every word you were writing down. He had never done that before, even when you had been writing letters of much bigger importance.

“I don’t mind you being in the same room as me while I work but this is a little uncomfortable, my love,” you tried to make him realise calmly when you were about to sign the letter.

“Do not forget your surname this time,” Gwayne reminded you and you furrowed your brows at the tone of his voice. It was not rude but certainly harsher than usual.

“Lady (Y/N) Hightower,” you signed silently, “of House Tyrell,” you added, just to spite Gwayne and you didn’t have to look up to know that he rolled his eyes. However, he did not say anything.

Lord Jason was supposed to come three days later in the evening, right in time for the supper. You wore a green dress for that occasion but you had a rose-shaped jewellery that your husband usually did not mind but on that day he seemed to be bothered by it.

“This jewellery is beautiful, dear wife, but are you sure it goes well with the dress?” He asked during breakfast as you froze.

“Since when are you an expert?” You turned your head around with widened eyes. Well, Gwayne knew quite a lot about fashion but his comment had irritated you.

“Since I am a married man,” he cracked a nervous smile at you.

“Yellow roses always go well with green for those are the Tyrell symbols,” you reminded him with a forced, ironic smile.

“Is this how you wish to greet Lord Jason in Oldtown? As Lady Tyrell?” Gwayne raised an eyebrow at you.

“I have been walking around this city in this very dress and jewellery many times before and you have never said anything!” You protested and Gwayne blushed a bit because he had no idea what else to say.

You went back to eating because you didn’t want to torment him more by pointing out the flaws of his argumentation, however he did not choose silence at all.

“The dress is also quite low-cut,” he mumbled.

“Yes, it is, my beloved Lord, and what about it?” You clenched your fist around the fork you were holding.

“I suspect not many Lord Husbands would want their wives to greet their previous suitors in such a dress,” he commented.

“I have never treated Lord Jason as my suitor,” you scoffed. “And what is wrong with the dress?”

“Nothing,” Gwayne quickly fixed himself. “Nothing is wrong with the dress, my beautiful Lady,” he assured you and went back to eating.

“Are you perhaps jealous of Lord Jason? Do you wish to impress him or show me off as your property?” You asked after the sudden realisation as you laid your eyes on him again.

“Property? No. My wife,” Gwayne clenched his jaw as he explained. “I want to show you off as my Lady Wife.”

“My darling,” you smiled and shook your head as your anger subdued. You leaned in to kiss his cheek. “I would have chosen you as my champion during that tournament even if you were a beggar knight from a peasant family. I would love you even if you were a miller, a carpenter, a fisherman. And no amount of Lannister gold would convince me to go with Lord Jason anywhere,” you assured your husband and fixed his hair gently. “I want to show you off as my Lord Husband in front of him just as much.”

That seemed to calm Gwayne down for now as he nodded with a small smile and even stole a little kiss from your lips. You were alone by the table and the few servants walking around would not scold you for that anyway.

The sun was slowly setting down when you were standing by Gwayne’s side in the courtyard of The Hightower and awaiting Lord Jason Lannister. Your arms were brushing and you kept looking at each other once in a while as if you were giving each other courage. Not that you needed it but Lord Jason was rather insufferable and you knew that losing temper around him would not be good for your relations with The Lannisters. The relations were pretty fragile already anyway.

Finally, you heard the horses and saw a big, elegant carriage with the Lannister lion ornamented on its doors.

“I thought he would travel on a horseback,” Gwayne mumbled.

“Well, he is not a knight. He is used to certain comfort,” you whispered and wore a fake smile that very moment when one of your servants opened the door of the carriage and you saw Lord Jason walking out.

He looked around as if he could not see you nor your husband at first. Then, he faked a smile as well and approached you.

“Lord and Lady Hightower,” he looked you up and down and kissed the palm of your hand when you bowed your head down.

“Lord Lannister,” you greeted him.

“Ser Gwayne,” he nodded at your husband.

“Lord Jason,” Gwayne nodded back. “You must be tired after the journey. Come, the supper is ready and your chambers have been prepared.”

“Thank you. I have never been to The Hightower, I must admit,” Lord Jason followed you inside. He kept looking around like a curious cat.

“How did you get to Blackcrown, my Lord?” You asked him curiously since you and Gwayne had been wondering about it earlier – why was he asking you for a room to stay on his way back only.

“I went there by a ship, Lady Hightower, but the ship was the wedding gift for my friend,” Lord Jason answered and you nodded.

“Your wedding gifts are very generous, my Lord,” Gwayne pointed out.

“Well, I can afford such,” Lord Jason grinned at him as you reached the dining hall. “You must forgive me for not sending one to you, Ser, but in my position of a failed suitor, it would have been pretty humiliating,” he explained and you pretended to understand his point of view.

And it was not like you cared about any gifts from him anyway.

“Please, let us not dwell on the past,” you showed Lord Jason an empty chair by your husband’s side and he took it after you and Gwayne had sat down as well.

“I am not meaning to, my Lady,” Lord Jason informed you proudly. “I am a married man myself now.”

“Oh, are you? Congratulations, my Lord,” you smiled at him even though he had never congratulated you on your union. “To whom?”

“Lady Johanna of House Westerling,” Lord Jason answered and you hummed to yourself.

“Well, she is a lucky Lady,” you tried to be kind.

“Thank you, that is very flattering, Lady Tyrell,” Lord Jason bowed his head and Gwayne shot him a deadly glance. “Oh, do forgive me, Lady Hightower. The colours you are wearing have misled me,” he explained with a grin and you faked a smile but you began to feel guilty for not listening to your husband earlier.

“Green is the colour of House Hightower,” your husband reminded Lord Jason.

“Indeed but the roses…”

“My wife is not forbidden from wearing the emblems of her father’s house,” Gwayne interrupted Lord Jason and it was rude enough to make all of you sit in silence for a moment after that.

“Lord Jason,” you started quickly to change the subject, “why isn’t your Lady Wife with you?”

“It was not recommended in her fragile state. Lady Lannister is expecting,” Lord Jason straightened himself and you could see pride and smugness about him.

“Congratulations, my Lord,” you nodded at him.

“Aren’t you afraid of leaving your pregnant Lady Wife alone for so long when it is no matter of life and death keeping you apart from her, my Lord?” Gwayne asked and you clenched your jaw before kicking him slightly under the table.

“Ser Gwayne, there is nothing in this world women do better than give birth. She does not need my assistance,” Lord Jason found it quite funny, though, as he laughed but he was the only one doing so. “Speaking of, I’ve expected to see Lady Hightower being swollen already. How long has it been now since the wedding? Six moons?”

You froze at his question. It was incredibly rude to be up in other people’s business like that.

You had been discussing the matter of children with Gwayne in the very beginning of your marriage and you both had decided you wanted some time for yourselves before having children and to enjoy each other’s company first. You were regularly drinking teas prepared by The Hightower’s maester to prevent you from getting pregnant and so far it had been working. But if it had failed, you wouldn’t be sad about it either, for you couldn’t wait to have your babes soon anyway.

You exchanged a meaningful look with your husband, not knowing what to say. If you told Lord Jason the truth – that you wanted to wait and enjoy each other’s company – he would only scoff at that and find it hilarious.

“And who has told you that I am not swelling, my Lord?” You answered swiftly before Gwayne opened his mouth.

Lord Jason looked you up and down before humming to himself.

“Well, congratulations, Ser,” he patted Gwayne on his back.

“Thank you,” Gwayne gritted through his teeth and gave you a scolding look. “It is still very early news, though,” he added.

“May the Gods bless Lady Hightower and her offspring,” Lord Jason nodded at you and it somehow felt very sincere.

“Thank you, Lord Jason,” you gave him the very first genuine smile that evening.

The rest of the supper went pretty boringly and you said goodnight to Lord Lannister before the servants took him to his chambers. You and Gwayne went upstairs in awkward silence.

On your way to your husband’s room, you passed the door to your chambers. They were a floor below Gwayne’s chambers that were located at the highest level of The Hightower.

“I shall join you later,” you only mumbled out and he nodded, watching you disappear inside your room.

Your maids were already waiting there to help you into your nighttime attire. You kept sighing and they were exchanging looks.

“How was it, my Lady?” One of them asked. She knew your backstory with Lord Jason because she was one of the girls you had taken with you from The Highgarden.

“Lord Jason is insufferable as always and even though he is married now himself, he finds great enjoyment in tormenting my Lord Husband,” you told her.

“Well, my Lady, I doubt Ser Gwayne is angry at you,” her eyes widened.

“I do not know anymore. I have worn a dress he did not approve of and it indeed caused trouble. I have also said something… Something I should have not said and I have said it to defend his honour but he might not see it this way,” you confessed.

“Ser Gwayne is a very understanding Lord Husband,” the girl assured you and smiled while she brushed your hair.

You kept looking at yourself in the mirror’s reflection but you weren’t sure of her words. That supper had gone worse in the beginning than you had even imagined.

You thanked your maids and they left you alone but you kept sitting in the armchair and staring at yourself and at the candles slowly burning out instead of moving up and joining your husband as you had promised.

For the first time during your marriage, you simply blew out the candles and went inside your own bed. It even felt weird to lay there since you were not used to it but it just felt like the right thing to do on that night.

You couldn’t fall asleep though. And after a while of tossing and turning, you heard the doors open as the wooden floor squeaked under someone’s feet.

“Who is it?” You sat up immediately.

“And who do you think, my Lady?” A familiar voice made you sigh out of relief.

You reached your hand out in the darkness and Gwayne grabbed it as you led him into your bed.

“Why didn’t you bring a candle with you?” You asked.

“I felt a little adventurous,” he chuckled. “And I know my way to you by heart, my beloved Lady,” he added. “Why haven’t you joined me?”

“I thought you didn’t want me to, my Lord,” you admitted when he laid next to you under the cover. You cuddled him immediately by curling up next to him and putting your arm around his waist. “I thought you were cross with me.”

“I am not cross. I simply do not understand why you lied,” he confessed and kissed the top of your head.

“Is it the lie that you’re upset about?” You furrowed your brow. “I do value your honour but…”

“Not the lie itself,” Gwayne interrupted you. “Why didn’t you allow me to inform Lord Jason that we do not wish for children yet?”

“Because he would not understand and find you weak or assume you are unable to produce an heir and it is nothing but an excuse. I wanted to spare you further embarrassments,” you explained. “And… I am sorry for the dress…” You added, looking down.

“Do not be. I am sorry for insisting,” Gwayne rubbed your back. “And thank you for wanting to spare me embarrassments but now we are facing quite a challenge, aren’t we, my love?”

“What do you mean, my Lord?” You looked up, finding his blue eyes in the darkness of your chambers.

“I mean that Lord Jason now believes that you are expecting, my darling,” Gwayne smirked a little and you furrowed your brows.

“Oh no,” you gasped, faking the dramatic aspect of it. “And what shall we do about it now?” You wondered theatrically.

“Well, I have quite a few ideas,” Gwayne leaned in to join your lips together in a kiss as his hands pulled you even closer by your waist.

“Are you sure?” You breathed out between one hasty kiss and another.

“Only if you are,” he assured you.

“I am,” you nodded. “I am, I am, I am…” You kept repeating, suddenly realising how eager you indeed were to have your own little babe before you allowed your husband’s lips to devour yours with yet another passionate kiss.

Thankfully, Lord Jason was supposed to leave Oldtown after breakfast. You greeted him in the morning in another green dress and even though this one was pretty low-cut, too, you decided not to wear any roses on that day. Instead, you wore a necklace with The Hightower that had once belonged to Gwayne’s late Lady Mother.

Lord Jason kept staring at your chest and the necklace until it became a little uncomfortable and he cleared his throat before looking up to meet your cold gaze that you were gracing him with.

“I must admit I have not expected The Hightower to be that grand. It really is as tall as they say,” he bowed his head at you.

“We Light The Way, Lord Lannister,” you reminded him with a forced smile.

“Of course, Casterly Rock remains taller,” he added and you put the cutlery down, irritated. Gwayne gave you a look to remind you to stay polite.

“My Lord, why the remark? Is it a contest?” You asked him, trying not to sound too angry. “It is not the size of the castle that proves manhood. I do believe that you have already shown yours during the tournament for my hand in marriage,” you reminded him of his shameful behaviour and cheating. “The tournament which my husband has won fairly and justly,” you added.

Lord Jason did not say anything. He looked down and went back to eating while his cheeks' colour started to resemble The Lannister emblem.

You squeezed Gwayne’s hand under the table and the rest of the breakfast went pretty smoothly. You went outside to the courtyard to watch Lord Jason ride away. His farewell was pretty short and official. He was not trying to make any jokes anymore.

“My darling, you have acted as if you were a knight and I was a lady in distress,” Gwayne chuckled at you once you were finally free of Lord Lannister.

“Sometimes you are, my Gwayne,” you smiled at him sweetly and leaned in to steal a kiss from his cheek.

“Shall I get you a sword, my sweet?” He teased you and you rolled your eyes at him.

“Perhaps another time, Lord Husband,” you chuckled at that.

Two moons later you were watching Gwayne training with his sword as he was teaching a young squire on the courtyard. The day was quite hot but you had nothing else to do and you loved to watch him train anyway so you were sitting on a wooden bench, trying to remain in the shadow but you felt awful nevertheless. The sun felt too warm, the corset seemed to be too tight no matter how many times you had asked your maids to loosen it and you were hungry but too nauseous to eat. You blamed your condition on the weather and your upcoming monthly bleeding, which was late already but the soreness of your breasts could only mean that it would come very soon.

Gwayne kept looking at you from the corner of his eye with a worried expression because he could see that something was not right – you looked exhausted and your skin was a shade paler than normally. There were bags under your eyes and your voice sounded weak whenever you cheered for him or his squire.

He knew he was most likely overreacting but he was panicking deep inside that you could be seriously ill like his mother had been. The beginnings of each illness looked the same and losing you so fast after marrying you would surely kill him, too.

You were too exhausted to even notice the worried look on his face. You raised your head to shield your face from the sun and you felt a sudden dizziness that made you flutter your eyelids as your head grew heavy before losing consciousness for a short while.

When you opened your eyes again, the very first thing you saw was Gwayne’s furrowed brows and blue eyes filled with worry and fear. His cheeks were so pale that his freckles were more visible than ever and the strands of his auburn hair were tickling your face. His squire was standing behind him with widened eyes.

“Wh-what happened?” You asked and looked around while your vision was slowly coming back.

“You have fainted, my love,” Gwayne swallowed thickly.

“It must be due to the heat,” you tried to explain.

“Mayhaps. But I shall not underestimate your condition,” he picked you up the bridal style, carefully.

“What are you doing, my Lord?” You chuckled weakly at him.

“I am taking you to the maester,” your husband answered with all seriousness.

You didn’t protest because you knew he was worried and to be honest so were you. You only hoped that the maester would confirm that it was nothing serious.

Gwayne’s squire opened the door leading to maester’s chambers in front of you both and The Hightower’s maester stood up to bow his head. He had been sitting by his desk and working on something before you came inside.

“My Lord, My Lady,” he greeted you. “Is everything alright?”

“No, maester. My Lady Wife has fainted,” Gwayne laid you down gently on a bed.

“It is because of the heat!” You protested.

“Mayhaps,” the maester hummed to himself and approached you to examine you with his hands as Gwayne stood above him and watched worryingly. “Have you slept well, my Lady?”

“Oh, I can’t sleep for about two weeks now,” you admitted and yawned a little at the mention.

“I understand. What have you had for breakfast, my Lady?” The maester furrowed his brows.

“I was too nauseous to eat,” you confessed.

“May I ask you when was your last bleeding?” The maester raised an eyebrow.

“It should come any day now for it was more than a moon ago… I am sure it is going to come, though. My breasts are sore,” you lowered your voice a little, feeling uncomfortable with the way he was looking at you and Gwayne’s presence hovering above the both of you.

“May I?” The maester lifted his hands and you opened your mouth to answer but you noticed that he was looking at your husband and not at you.

“I mean, if you must…” Gwayne cleared his throat. “And if the Lady agrees,” he added and only then the maester laid his eyes on you.

“Go on,” you nodded and your heart skipped a beat when he grabbed your breasts gently through the fabric of the dress and squeezed them carefully. You hissed at the feeling.

The maester hummed to himself and moved his hands away before looking up at Gwayne again. Your husband shook his head out of anticipation.

“And?!” He asked.

“Lady Hightower is expecting. Congratulations, my Lord,” the maester informed and you opened your mouth slightly at that revelation.

“I… I am with child?” You inquired and sat up, feeling the sudden outburst of energy.

“I am quite certain of it. Too many symptoms confirming,” the maester nodded. “And when was it that my Lady stopped drinking the tea? Two moons ago, right?”

“That is quite right,” Gwayne answered and took you by your hand. He squeezed your fingers gently and sat on the edge of your bed. He placed a gentle kiss upon the palm of your hand and looked deep into your eyes with such a loving expression that you felt butterflies all over your body even though you had been married for more than half a year now.

The maester walked away and sat back by his desk to give you some space but you completely forgot about his presence anyway for all that mattered was your husband and his child you were apparently carrying under your heart.

“Oh, Gwayne…” You stuttered out as your eyes filled with happy tears. “So it is happening… And to think we have Lord Jason Lannister to thank…”

“My Lady!” Gwayne frowned and chuckled. “Do not say such things. Some people might get ideas…”

“That is true, I guess,” you laughed at his comment. “Are you still certain that you will not mind a daughter if it is a girl?”

“All I care for is your safety. And the child’s. In that exact order,” he answered and you gave him a faint smile.

“Whether they’re a boy or a girl, I just wish for them to be like their father,” you squeezed Gwayne’s hand lovingly. “That is my greatest wish.”

A slight blush covered his cheeks and you smiled at his reaction. It was quite easy to make him flustered with such compliments for he had not been getting many in his childhood. He had been left alone at eight years old, raised by all the septas and maesters of The Hightower alongside older knights teaching him the craft and chivalry. His life had been quite a lonely one but it no longer would be for you would fill the corridors and courtyards with tiny little Hightowers running around.

Your screams could be heard on every floor of The Hightower – a monument taller than The Wall itself – at least that was what your husband had claimed with a chuckle when you nearly crushed his hand while squeezing it tightly. You gave him a deadly look and he lovingly wiped your sweaty face, pushing away all the hair strands that got stuck to your forehead.

You knew that Gwayne was trying to distract you with his jokes here and there but overall he was very worried – perhaps even more than you were since your pain was too overwhelming to focus on anything else. The septas were busy around you, wiping your sweat away, helping you to drink water and telling you when to push as they monitored the birthing process.

You had not expected your Lord Husband to actually be there for you but he had not disappointed you. You had been conflicted at first for you had been told once that wives should not allow their husbands inside during labour. But you were too scared to go through this alone and the pain was much greater than what you had imagined as well. Gwayne’s presence was bringing you great comfort even if sometimes he was annoying you.

The birth had started after breakfast and the sun was slowly going down already but the septas were assuring you that it would not take long from now on. Gwayne had not left your side even for a moment throughout the whole day.

“I did not mean to upset you, my love,” he explained, caressing your hand as if it was the most delicate thing in the world and not a deadly machine that had nearly crushed his hand on several occasions that day. “You are the bravest woman in the Realm to me. In all the Realms of this world, in fact,” he assured you and you just couldn’t be angry at him any longer.

You smiled and wished to tell him something equally sweet when a sharp pain distracted you and you turned your head around while wincing and squeezing your husband’s hand tightly again.

“I can see the head!” One of the septas screamed. “Go, fetch the maester!” She ordered the young girl who was only getting her training but seeing her pale face and terrified expression, you wondered if she regretted her decision to become a septa.

On the other hand, as a septa she would never have to go through what you were going through at the moment.

The girl ran out of the room and you kept taking deep breaths in and pushing like the eldest septa was instructing you. Gwayne kept holding your hand throughout that but seeing his face, he needed the breathing instructions as well.

The maester entered the chambers in a hurry with the scared young septa after him and in that very moment the child’s screams and crying filled the room. The sound was so loud and determined that you immediately knew that there was nothing to worry about for only a healthy and strong child could make such a fuss.

The maester hurried to the newborn baby and Gwayne was trying to see as much as possible through all the septas swarming up around you to clean you up a little and wipe your face from all the sweat.

“It is a boy,” the maester informed and you couldn’t help but sigh with relief.

You knew your Lord Husband could not care less about it but you did care – you loved him and you wanted to give him an heir.

“Is he alright?” Gwayne asked with a raspy voice.

“See for yourself, my Lord. He is a perfectly healthy babe,” the maester approached you two and handed Gwayne his firstborn son. He showed your husband how to hold the little head up and you watched with a loving smile the little bundle of joy staining your husband’s clothes with blood as he was screaming his lungs out.

“He is beautiful,” Gwayne mumbled and moved closer to you as you reached out your weak hands to hold your own babe as well. He placed him gently on your chest but his eyes were fixated on the boy. “Thank you for him, my love.”

“I thank you, my Lord,” you answered but you did not look up at him either since you kept staring at the screaming child. But when he felt your skin and your heartbeat, he stopped crying immediately and just kept staring at you with huge eyes. You chuckled at that and cried happy tears. “How do you want to name him?”

“Lord Edmund Hightower?” Gwayne suggested. It was no surprise to you that he did not propose his father’s name and you liked the sound of Edmund Hightower, so you nodded. You could not care less about the name, you were just glad to have a son and you thought it was only fair for the father to choose his heir’s name anyway.

“I like the sound of that,” you assured your husband as you looked up to meet his gaze.

“So do I,” Gwayne nodded. “And the sight, my Lady,” he added and you felt your cheeks heating up.

Only Gwayne knew how to make you flustered still, after over a year of marriage and right after giving birth to a child, dirty with blood and sweat but to him you were nothing but a victorious warrior that had just survived a battlefield and he admired you now more than ever before.

MASTERLIST

[koiiiji]

windbreaker characters as parents ༘⋆🌷🫧💭 ⋆˙

tw ; cuteness overload, contains character x character and character x reader

pairings ; min u x mia, shelly x jay jo, dom x reader, monster x reader, vinny x reader

౨ৎ let's start from min u and mia! proud parents of a girl and boy who are three years apart. girl is the older sister and goes along with her brother super well even through his puberty. mia is a great mother and her kids never hide anything from her as they know that they can trust her. mia and her daughter have their own "girls secrets" and side jokes, while min u and his son are super annoyed by it and tried to make their own side jokes, but girls always know its context. also, their grandad and auntie yuna spoil them so much!!! and also min u father are so proud of his son and he really likes mia. all in all 10/10 highly recommended to be born in this family.

౨ৎ shelly and jay. here things are more complicated because shelly parents insisted on them move in the UK during her pregnancy, but they decided to stay in Korea simply because shelly likes weather more and feel more comfortable there. life blessed them with a boy - a copy of his father. but he is a mummy's boy and he gets along with shelly more, even their son's first word was "mama!" when he happily squished shelly’s cheek with his small hands. with time, he builds more interests with jay’s hobbies, so till he hit his puberty he was such a sweet child. but when he turned 14? monster that going through "nobody understands me" era. sometimes jay wonders maybe he need to send his son to his mother so she will teach him some discipline, but then jay remembers that he doesn't want to give his child such trauma. by the way jay family calmed down the moment jay was accepted on the really well paid job and even his mother was proud that her son has international family. all in all 7/10 bc both jay and shelly parents would have a beef over who is better grandparents.

౨ৎ so i can imagine that dom would accept his father's business even tho he didn't insist. so you two were gifted with three daughters each with year apart. dom honestly wished his first would be a boy so he can grow up and protect his sisters, but fate had her own ideas. through your second pregnancy dom repeated that he would be happy for girl or boy, just healthy, strong child (he prayed for a boy), and you decided not to find out who you were going to have until the baby was born. and it was sweet, super calm girl. on third pregnancy dom really tried to have a boy (yes, he scrolled all that weird mums forums to find out in which pose you can conceive a boy). he has genuinely been surprised when doctor said you will have a girl. who was the happiest over the fact that he surrounded by girls? his father!! he loves all four of you, and dom suspect that his father loves you more than him. he definitely would call you daughter and generally he is super granddad and father-in-law. your daughters loves their granddad too!! imagine them cling to him from all sides, hanginig on his neck, arms and legs. generally girls goes along super good, but oldest and youngest are more close to their father as they share extrovert personality, while middle girl gets super along with you. dom are scared that they are growing up too fast and that in one day they will start dating b̴̨̢̰͖̂ͫͨ̒ͦͩơ̷̧̢̛̤̠̻͔̤̖̳͖̥̼̲̮̥̣̼̮̂̽̓ͮ͆̉ͩ͆ͣͧ̿ͫ́͋ͩ̏̚̕̚͜͞y̶̢͎̜̬͖̩̰̬̞̓͌̽͆̈́̉̑ͨ̂ͧ͌̌̇̅͗͌͘͜͟s̶̸̢͉͙͈̳̻̣̲͔̜̩ͮ̌̃̄̄̓̍̽͌̈́͑́͑ͩ͟͠͝ 💀☠️ all in all 9/10 dom vibes with his favourite girls but one one stingy male tear drops when he sees fathers play baseball with their sons (he was hitted in the nose with a ball from his youngest daughter)

౨ৎ when you and deokbong announced that you will have a child, people were... curious - how?? how you would be able to carry his child since you look so small in comparison to him. and you know what? it was twin boys... the birth was difficult but you did it and then you faced new challenge - both boys was copy of their father and they was heavy. you prayed for your back, seriously, but deokbong is super supportive husband and father so he was always there to help you. thankfully your boys were calm. like literally they always had serious faces, fists clenched and almost never cried. with time your younger one maintained your character and more of your features showed, like brows and nose form, cheeks, and face shape. all in all 10/10 you four would be happy simple sport family!!

౨ৎ vinny hong refuse to have children. end of headcanon.

but seriously, vinny had huge trauma from his father and from bulling in school, he will never be sure that he is enough as financially and emotionally for kids, so you two are proud parents of one big dog, maybe doberman or cane corso and lazy cat. all in all 7/10 just because there are too much wool at home and vinny refuse to go on a walk with dog in the early morning.

[whenmemorydies]

Ancestors and The Bear

Phew, the discourse in season 3 of The Bear on legacy was STUNNING to me. This post by @gingergofastboatsmojito and episodes 3x01 Tomorrow and 3x07 Legacy have been sitting on my heart since I finished my binge of the show. Some thoughts under the cut. (I say "some" but this is another long ass post, soz).

If seasons 1 and 2 of The Bear went into the impact of our birth families on each of us, season 3 shifted pretty squarely to talking about the impact of our professional mentors on our lives. I've described those mentors as culinary ancestors, which as a concept I get into below. I loved this aspect of this season and the show generally. It is so rich and I feel like I'm only going to scratch the surface of it here. Keen to hear others' thoughts on this too.

Legacy and Ancestry

In 3x07 Legacy, Carmy talks to Marcus about the idea of legacy in the context of chefs he had worked with - how those chefs had talked to him about how their work would carry on through iterations and generations of subsequent chefs and restaurants that came after them. I'll include both a transcript and screenshots of this conversation below:

Carmy: Like, um, something would start somewhere, and then, uh, people would take that thing and then they would take it somewhere else. So, all these parts of an original restaurant, they would end up at a new restaurant and that kind of thing. That would happen over and over again. And then all these parts of all these restaurants, they would sort of-- You know, they would find each other. And then new people would take those parts and they would put 'em into their restaurant. And the whole thing, it would, um-- It would start to happen all over again.

Marcus: So, like a family tree or something?

Carmy: [looks to Syd who has her back to him, closing her locker] Yeah. Yeah, exactly.

Most folks understand ancestry to refer to our family or genetic lineage. When I was in university, I learned about intellectual ancestors or genealogy: where one can trace your intellectual lineage - the thinkers and creators that have shaped your understanding of the world and/or your chosen profession. I think its useful to take this concept and apply it to The Bear to help understand what the show is saying about legacy. I wouldn't limit the concept to "intellectual" ancestry though. It might be more helpful to talk about culinary ancestors in this context because the process of creating food - crafting dishes - isn't solely an intellectual exercise. It engages our intellect yes, but also each of our senses, our memories (recall that chocolate banana from 2x10 The Bear), and the need to nurture and be nurtured.

Culinary Ancestors

Carmy's culinary ancestors are varied given his work history. We know he's cooked under some of the best chefs in the culinary world of The Bear, including: Daniel Boulud (of Daniel), René Redzepi (of NOMA), Thomas Keller (of The French Laundry), David Field (a sociopathic Joel McHale, of Eleven Madison Park), and Andrea Terry (a sublime Olivia Colman, of Ever). I'd also include here Mikey, Donna and Natalie Berzatto. I'd include cousins Richie Jeremovich and Michelle Berzatto as well. These are the home and line cooks Carm grew up with, watched in his mother's kitchen and at The Beef. He took his lessons - the good and the bad, learnt voluntarily and involuntarily - from all of these people, incorporated them into his working self and transmuted them into his food.

In particular, I've talked here about Chef Terry and the valuable lesson of "every second counts" that she carried with her as she mentored waves of chefs through her restaurant, Ever. That post also talks about the parallels between Terry and Syd (which were even more evident in season 3), the latter of whom I'd argue is also one of Carmy's culinary ancestors ("you make me better at this").

I wish we had more information about Sydney and her influences. We know that prior to The Beef, she worked at restaurants Smoque BBQ, Alinea and Avec. We meet at least one of her mentors, Chicago restauranteur Donnie Madia in 2x03 Sundae and 2x10 The Bear, as well as Nayia at the fictional Verdana French Bistro (which ends up closing by 2x09 Omelette). They each offer up small insights into Sydney: that her food is amazing and that she is always "trying to be the best." Carmy is also undoubtedly one of Sydney's culinary ancestors, as infuriating and withholding as he can be. I'm also certain that Sydney's parents and the cultural history/ies that she's inherited through them are part of her culinary lineage as well. I really, really hope that we get much more insight into this side of her next season.

Respect, mentorship and lineage

One of the things that first drew me to The Bear was the respect that the show gave its characters of colour. In particular, the opportunity and support given to people of colour from a working class operation like The Beef to continue into the fine dining world of The Bear. I've spoken a bit about this here.

I haven't seen a dynamic on television before, where folks from the backgrounds like the POC characters in The Bear are from, are backed in the way they are on the show. Where there are mentors who will invest in them to train them up, and who will take those folks with them as they move into more elite and skilled spaces. Hell, I have barely seen this happen in the roughly two decades that I've been in wage-earning employment myself. Lets be clear, capitalism does not incentivise this kind of shit. Its why certain industries, including the world of fine dining, remain largely if not completely exclusive, demarcated by gender, race and class.

Yes this season was fucked in terms of which characters were getting prioritised for screen time over key Black characters like Sydney and Marcus (the Faks can genuinely go fuck). The lack of care given to Marcus, in particular, whose mother's passing was treated almost perfunctorily in comparison to a wholly unnecessary conversation amongst the entire crew about Cl@ire in 3x02 Next (quoting Richie: "who cares?!"), was also fucked. I would have preferred to have spent more time with Syd, Marcus, Tina, Ebraheim, Sweeps, Manny and Angel than listening to Neil, Ted and fucking Sammy (?!) Fak blather their way through precious minutes during this show.

But even with the above, The Bear regularly manages to floor me with beautiful moments of mentorship, leadership and love featuring characters of colour on the show. This is particularly the case in the relationships between culinary ancestors Carm and Sydney with "descendants" Marcus and Tina.

Birth of the The Bear lineage

Recall 1x08 Braciole where Sydney tells Marcus that after she finished culinary school, she spent all her money eating her way through New York. She says that she had the best meal she's ever eaten while she was there. With Marcus' gentle prodding, we find out that the person who created that meal, was Carmy.

Its not until the first episode of season 3 when we see how this actually played out, for both Carmy and Syd. I won't rehash the details of this scene because it is truly beautiful filmmaking to behold. Please if you haven't already, go watch 3x01 in its entirety. Have tissues nearby.

I will say, that in the best meal Syd ever had, Carmy literally served up his heart and lifeblood (check the cut of the fish, the crimson of the blood orange decoction).

That meal - that seed of inspiration from Carmy - birthed something in Sydney, something that would push her to find Carmy much later, working at his brother's sandwich shop.

Together these two incredibly talented chefs started their own lineage, taking what they knew and investing it into The Beef and eventually, The Bear:

And then, the next generation of collaboration and inspiration emerges:

This is why the visuals in 3x01 Tomorrow, with Syd sitting in quiet contemplation of Carm's dish, are so poignant. From 1x01 System, Carm and Syd have been growing their branch of their shared culinary family tree, nurturing it alongside those of their respective ancestors:

In 3x01 Tomorrow, we see that tree literally emerging from the moment Sydney meets Carm, on a plate.

It all starts when Sydney leaves culinary school and decides to make the most of her time in New York, eating at every place she could think of including, at Eleven Madison Park. And when Carmen, after losing Mikey, decides to make a few seconds count, taking ownership of a dish that he knows is going to be stolen from him and bastardized otherwise. The rest is history, or legacy.

Author's note:

I just wanted to draw attention to the fact that this show is also an exercise of mentorship and collaboration: Ayo Edebiri directing 3x06 Napkins under the guidance of Calo and Storer. Ramy Youssef directing 2x04 Honeydew under the guidance of Storer who had previously directed him on and produced Ramy. The fucking force of nature that is veteran Liza Colón Zayas being directed by Ayo. Jeremy describing the filming of 2x06 Fishes as akin to watching masters at work. Of course any television production is a collaborative effort and there are countless names I'm not familiar with who have put their precious time and energy into making this beautiful thing. I just thought it worth mentioning that at times, this show glimmers with truths, and I think thats because, in some way, they're in the marrow of the thing.

[personasintro]

i know mentioming kiko triggers most of the readers but i think yall should grow tf up like shes my roman empire and i think about her a lot u know 😔😔 when this chapter, where she told jungkook the truth, came out i hated her just like others and i was like "shes so evil like how can she do this to jungkook". but as time passed i just realized that shes the realest character because if i were in the same situation i might have done the same thing(?) Like i dont know exactly what id do but because of fear i couldve done the same so i cant really judge her. like we all know having a child is a big responsibility and she was scared and of course she wasnt ready for this and obviously its her body and her choice and she did whatever she thought was good for her. I think throwing a mud at her and criticising her is too much because she suffered enough already and i truly dont understand why do yall hate this woman so much?? I mean yeah she shouldve told jungkook everything because jungkook really deserved to know and we all knkw he would understand her and her choice but she was scared and not ready. Like we cant even imagine the pain she was going through because as i mentioned before having a kid is a big responsibility and she was the one who had to carry the baby for 9 months and give birth and everything and she was not ready. like yeah jungkook would be on her side but so what?? his support would be a great help but mothers still have to go through pain, fear, uncertainty and so many emotions and i think men would never get this (im sorry, i know jungkooks an amazing man but he still wouldnt get it okay???) and i trully feel sorry for her and of course the way she handled the situation was so wrong and i do not support her for that, for example, for lying to jungkook, breaking up with him without telling him everything, then lying to him that she cheated 😭😭like she was so stupid for that and she made him suffer so much like imagine u told him u cheated on him and he still wanted to give u a second chance,even though he was in so much pain??? like i understand him and yes he deserved to know everything and she was so wrong for getting back to him and still makkng him believe she cheated but I feel so sorry for both of them and i really understand kiko and her fears and im her apologist because everyone makes mistakes and obviously she wasnt a perfect person. I hope she will be happy in the future because she dont deserve all this pain.

thank you for sharing your thoughts on this! we've had quite a lot conversations about her character and to be honest, she might be one of my favorite characters i've ever written. not because I love her or anything, but because she's so interesting to me. and i've said this before many times, but i guess people perceive things differently based on the point of view which is completely understandable – if the story was about them, kiko being y/n – some opinions and reactions might've been different. i do believe there would be many opinions of what she did and it being not right, but i guess readers would show more mercy with the way of how they talk about her character or they would definitely not use so many curse words ahaaha

[mischievouslittlecreature]

Part 23: No More

Summary: Lizzie's announcement at dinner reopens some old wounds.

Word Count: 2,068

Warnings: Jealousy, infertility, and polyamory.

Notes: I wanted to include this in the last part, but couldn't find a good point to slot it in, so this can sorta be considered a bonus chapter to the previous part. But can also be read on its own if you prefer. I originally wanted Tommy to get a vasectomy, but after doing some research it doesn't look like they became a standard method of birth control until during the Second World War.

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“I want another baby.”

They were sitting at the dining room table, eating the soup that the chef had made for dinner. Lucy had been in the middle of asking Charlie about his latest art project when Lizzie interrupted her. 

Tommy’s eyes snapped up, freezing with an unlit cigarette between his lips, hands fumbling with his lighter. His eyes met Lizzie’s from across the table, blood going cold at both her words and the defiant look sparking in her eyes. 

Beside him, Lucy stiffened, shoulders drawing in on themselves. Eyes darting down to her soup, she swirled the spoon mindlessly through the orange mixture of pasta, vegetables, and beef. 

Tommy swallowed roughly, returning his gaze back to his wife. “Lizzie…we talked about this before the wedding,” he said softly. They had all agreed that there would be no more children. Two was more than enough. And Lizzie’s pregnancy with Ruby had been difficult. She hadn’t seemed entirely eager to go through it again when they’d brought up the topic of no more children earlier. 

“I’ve reconsidered.”

He felt his temper start to fray. “What else is fucking new?” he spat, biting his tongue before more bitter words could leave his mouth. Lizzie’s eyes narrowed to slits.

“There’s gonna be another baby?” Charlie asked, eyes wide with excitement. Tommy could have screamed at her for bringing this up in front of the kids. Even though Ruby was still too young to really be able to understand what was going on. 

Lizzie turned to Charlie, a smile plastering onto her face. “Maybe, Charlie, if your daddy says yes. Wouldn’t it be exciting? To have another little brother or sister to play with?”

Charlie’s face lit up. “Yeah!”

“I’m not hungry.” Lucy suddenly set her spoon down with a slight clink, rising from her seat. “I think I’m just going to go to bed.” 

Tommy shot up after her, hand reaching out. “Love–”

She shook his touch from her arm. “It’s fine.” She didn’t really look at him as she spoke, and he felt his heart twist in his chest as he watched her go to the door. There were tears glazing her eyes. 

“Charlie, why don’t you finish your dinner in the drawing room with Frances?” he beckoned to the housekeeper for help, and she immediately stepped forward to gather up Ruby. “Your step-mother and I need to talk.”

“Okay, Daddy,” Charlie said, not picking up on the sudden tension between him and Lizzie. Or if he did, actively ignoring it. Tommy waited until he’d gathered up his bowl and followed Frances from the room before turning to Lizzie. She straightened her back, chin held high. 

Taking his time deciding on what he wanted to say, Tommy finally raised his lighter to his cigarette. For a moment, he tried to puzzle out a way to approach the situation without causing a massive fight. But then he remembered how Lucy’s shoulders had drawn in on themselves at Lizzie’s words.

Fuck it. It was going to turn into a row no matter what he did, anyway. 

“I can’t tell if you actually meant any of what you just said, or if you were only saying it to hurt her.” He tossed his lighter onto the table with a clatter, puffing on his cigarette. A twinge of regret momentarily filtered onto Lizzie’s face. Just as quickly as it appeared, it vanished, replaced by that stubborn clenching of her jaw once more.

“I can’t help what I want.”

“No,” he acknowledged with a sigh. “But you could be gentler in the way that you say it. That was cruel.” He fixed his eyes on her disdainfully. “Even for you.”

The verbal slap hit its mark, Lizzie flinching and looking away. Turning his back to her, Tommy went to the decanters of whiskey on the shelf against one wall, filling a glass and swallowing it all down in one big gulp. 

“I thought after how hard your pregnancy with Ruby was, you were alright with not having anymore,” he turned to face her again. 

“It was hard because I had to go through it alone. You could be there for it all, this time around.”

“I don’t want any more children, Lizzie.”

“You’re just saying that because you’re afraid of upsetting her.”

“No; I’m not.” It was the truth. Two was enough. Much more than that, and it would be hard for him to be able to spend proper time with them all. 

Lizzie rose from her seat, coming around the table to stand beside him. “Another little you and me, Tommy,” she took hold of his hand. “Imagine it.”

He stared at her blankly, and her expression hardened. 

“You refuse to get rid of her like I asked. The least you could do is give me this.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You think you’re owed this because you changed your mind on what we agreed?” he ripped his hand from her hold. “Did you really think that you could go back on everything, and I’d just roll over and do whatever you say without question?”

The way the muscles in Lizzie’s cheeks shifted was answer enough. Tommy shook his head, a stab of hate and bitterness crackling through him. How much longer could they go on like this? It hadn’t even been a year yet that they’d been married, and his patience with Lizzie’s mood swings–particularly when it came to Lucy–was paper thin. Everyday, they never knew what they were going to get from her. Jealous raging one day, then sweet as honey the next. He didn’t know what to do with her. They’d tried being accommodating, but every time he pushed back on her attempts to trample over the boundaries of their arrangement, she threw a fit. Even walking on eggshells, or just trying to avoid her, wasn’t always enough to avoid a tantrum.

And with every hurtful word hurled her way, he watched the lights in Lucy’s eyes grow a little dimmer. Even when Lizzie always apologized for her behavior after the fact. Lucy had once been so cheerful. So humorous and warm. Now, she was often sullen and quiet whenever they were at home. 

It killed him to see her like this. He tried to place himself between them. To serve as a human shield between Lucy and Lizzie’s venom. But there was only so much he could do when they all lived under the same roof together. 

And without him even really noticing until it was too late, he and his wife had grown to hate each other. 

“You know, most days, I wish that I’d never married you.” 

Lizzie pulled away from him as if he’d slapped her, expression transforming from one of earnestness into pure heartbreak. For a second, Tommy felt bad. Until he remembered Lucy retreating hastily from the room, looking on the verge of tears. Lizzie had done that. And based on the way she’d brought forth this particular conversation, he was positive that she’d done it on purpose. 

He was done giving her the benefit of the doubt. She’d done this one too many times.

“I are done with you treating Lucy this way. Do you hear me? She’s here. She’s with me. Learn to live with that without making her miserable every second of every day, or I will leave you.”

Lizzie’s eyes widened. “You can’t–”

“Yes, I can. It’ll make a fucking mess of everything, but I will do it if I have to. You’re killing her, Lizzie. I don’t think that’s your intention. Not really. But you are. And if it comes down to you or her…you know who I’m going to pick.”

Lizzie stared at him, cheeks steadily turning red. “You can’t even give me this one little thing–”

“A child is not a little thing, Lizzie! And you know that. My time is already stretched thin between Charlie, Ruby, Lucy, and you. I’m not adding another obligation into the mix. It wouldn’t be fair.”

“Oh, now you all of a sudden care about what’s fair?”

“Don’t give me that shit. You don’t care that it would be unfair to throw Lucy out onto the street, alone, just because you changed your mind about an arrangement you repeatedly agreed to. Because things are only considered fair as long as you get what you want, eh, Lizzie?” 

Her face twisted, and he was reminded of that day in his car when he’d tested her loyalty with eight pounds and she’d spat at him when he called her on her bullshit. “You’re a fucking bastard, Thomas Shelby!”

“Yeah,” he agreed, wholeheartedly. “And don’t you forget it, the next time you get it in your head to try to hurt her.” Deciding that was enough conversation for one evening, he turned on his heel and left the room. Before she could start shouting at him some more. 

It would take a day or two, and then she’d calm down. Maybe they’d even apologize to each other. And then there would be some respite. That was, until the next storm hit. 

He went to the drawing room first, to kiss Charlie and Ruby goodnight and to ensure Frances knew to get them in bed on time, then headed for the stairs. Taking them two at a time, he walked with quick steps through the halls towards his and Lucy’s room. 

He found her perched on top of the windowsill, knees drawn up to her chest and smoking while she stared out the window. Shutting the bedroom door quietly behind him, he made his way over to her cautiously. 

“Sweetheart?”

She glanced over at him, her eyes red. Tommy shuffled a little closer, reaching out to smooth a hand up and down her arm. 

“I’m alright,” she looked down at the floor as she said it. Leaning his body against hers, he shook his head in disagreement, putting his arms around her.

“I’m sorry that she blindsided you with that. I didn’t even know that was something she was thinking about.” 

She put her head on his chest. “It’s fine.” It clearly wasn’t.

“I’m not having more children with her.”    

“I would understand if both wanted–”

“I’m not putting you through that again,” he cut her off. “Not if I can help it, at least.”

He felt her sag with relief against him, even though he was pretty sure that she was trying to hide it. But he knew her too well.

“We’re awful, selfish people, Tommy,” she lamented miserably. 

“Maybe,” he agreed. But he would rather be awful and selfish than hurt her more than he already had. “But it wouldn’t be a good idea to have more children. For a lot of reasons. Namely because I don’t want anymore.” He sighed, leaning back ever so slightly to look down at her. “Don’t feel bad about it. I told her I was done having children before we got married. If it was that big of a deal for her, she should have backed out then.”

“Mm,” Lucy nodded, looking down. 

“What?” Tommy asked, stroking her waist, encouraging her to look at him. With a heavy sigh, she angled her head up to gaze into his eyes sadly. 

“Sometimes I just wish that I could have given you at least one.”

He felt a little crack form in his heart. He had thought, sometimes, about how things would have been different if she was the one who had gotten pregnant instead of Lizzie. 

They’d have been a lot happier, that was for bloody sure. 

“C’mere,” he pulled her tighter into him, rubbing her back and kissing her hair. “They’d have been beautiful.” He couldn't quite keep the wistfulness from his voice. He wondered if she was seeing the same visions dance behind her eyelids as he was: a tiny child with dark hair and deep green eyes, freckles dotting their nose, with their father’s sharp cheekbones and their mother’s messy curls. 

A long forgotten dream, never to be fulfilled.  

He’d have loved to have been the father to her babies. 

“It doesn’t change how I feel about you,” Tommy murmured into her hair. She laid a hand on his forearm. 

“I know.” Turning her head, she kissed the base of his throat gratefully. “Thank you.”

He tightened his arms around her, holding her tightly while they both silently ached at losing something they would never have.

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Thank you for reading! Please consider leaving a comment, reblog, or like. I always appreciate feedback and love getting the opportunity to interact with you and hear your thoughts!

[cecystrange]

Just because you're a Harkness doesn't mean you're evil

type:fluff with a bit of sadness

Hello everyone this is my first fanfictions, it will be Stephen × Y/n, I apologize already for my english,because I'm not a native speaker and nothing I hope you like it

---------------------------------

You are a Harkness, to be precise the daughter of Aghata Harkness, and you have been on the blacklist for people since birth.

You are her second child, Y/n Harkness, you are 27 years old, and your relationship with your mother has its ups and downs, it is not stable at all, but lately it has gone even worse, she has started to hate you and you think it is because you were becoming stronger than her, yes you had the same power but you had perfected it more than her.

But during an argument you attacked her out of nervousness and she took most of your power, but as soon as she took it, your purple disappeared but at least you were alive.

You ran away from home, without your power you felt like a fool, your power was everything, you got in your car and that's what you thought was "I have to look for some magical monasteries or shrines"

So you started the machine and began your search.

After a couple of months

nobody wanted you, because you're a Harkness, you're the daughter of Agatha Harkness, you were desperate, your last stop was the Sanctum Santorum.

now you never lost hope but no one ever died trying right? at least...

You go to knock and an Asian man opens the door with a little smile and it's strange to see a person who smiles at you on purpose to tell you that you are the daughter of a monster...wow one step forward, then the man opens his mouth and starts saying "nice to meet you, miss, what do I owe this visit to? My name is Wong but what's yours?"

Damn you should have told him my name....shit if he's been nice now as soon as I tell him my name he wants to kick me out or burn me.

"Nice to meet you Wong I'm here to recover my lost power, my name is Y/n Harkness, and I would appreciate it if-"

he didn't let me talk he told me with disgust

"no sorry we don't help monsters"

he was closing the door but you put your foot in the middle and start begging him to let you in and that you're not like your mother that you can be good,he was adamant.

...

It's been half an hour if not more that you were there in front with Wong, but a second man came that you recognized that it was Doctor Stephen Strange, your mother had told you about him, like all the others like Wanda, Lillia and others that you don't remember. You see that he looks at you and says seriously to Wong "let the girl Wong in" he turns around "but sir she is the daughter of-" Stephen stopped him "I explicitly said let her in" he said more hard and serious and Wong finally let you in.

You look at Stephen with gratitude and see that Wong runs like a dog "to what do I owe your presence, young lady" he says sweetly inviting you to follow him into the main room of the sanctuary,you sit on a sofa you are in front of him sitting "so I'm here because I lost my power, because of my mother" he says seriously and with a hint of melancholy "and I say...I'm not like her selfish,evil...I want to be good..." you sigh "but no one understands me", in all this Stephen looks at himself with understanding "I know, children don't have to be the same as their parents...I imagined that you were an exception, it doesn't mean that you're a Harkness you're evil, for now don't be sad ok Y/n? with me you're safe".

you smiled sweetly at his understanding "thank you Doctor Strange" "oh Y/n don't call me that, just call me Stephen",he smiled, got up from the couch and said "you will live at Sanctum Santorum under my protection, we will start tomorrow morning at 9:00 and I swear you will recover your power, word of a sorcerer" he says jokingly a little and says with great gratitude "thank you Stephen really also for understanding me",he approaches the door that divided the living room from the relics "you're welcome, ask later and then ask Wong about the room and if he gives you any problems tell me" he winks at you "see you later Y/n" he leaves the room, finally someone has understood you and also you think it will be cool to stay here...well finally maybe you will be able to live peacefully.

[thebadgerclan]

Someday

Pairing: Nikolai Lantsov x reader

Requested by Anonymous

Summary: Someday, you will be his...

For as long as you could remember, you and Prince Nikolai had been the closest of friends.  You were the daughter of a nobleman, your position at court placing you close to the younger Prince from birth.  Your connection was innate and instant, your friendship growing fast.  And as you aged into a young lady and he into a young man, your friendship remained intact, the one sure thing in the chaos that was life in Ravka.

Then you’d enlisted, surprising everyone in your family.  Nikolai had pulled some strings to put you in the same unit as him, and for the next five years, you served at his side.  You were there when he took his first bullet, and when your feelings for your dearest friend began twisting into something more.  But he was a Prince, and you were…you.  He would wed for alliance, and you would wed for your family’s strength.  Love didn’t factor into the equation for either of you; it didn’t matter that you had fallen deeply and irrevocably in love with Prince Nikolai Lantsov.

***

Life had been turned on its axis.  The Darkling was in open revolt, the Grisha were fractured, and the Sun Summoner had returned to Ravka.  Prince Nikolai had returned to the Spinning Wheel with Alina Starkov in tow, both of whom were clearly ready for a fight.  You’d only had a few moments to reunite with your closest friend before all residents of the Spinning Wheel were summoned for a dinner, to celebrate the Prince’s return, as Queen Tatiana said.

As Nikolai’s lieutenant, you were seated at the Head Table, Alina to his left, and you to her left.  The meal had barely begun when Vasily made a comment about the Grisha, to which Alina quipped, “We are all Ravkan here.”  Nikolai rolled his eyes.  “It doesn’t need to be us versus them.”  The tension could be sliced with a dull knife, Alina stating that she would lead the Second Army if they needed a leader loyal to the Crown.

“Why should I believe you have any loyalty to my family?” Vasily asked, and Nikolai and Alina shared a heavy look.  Then he stood, raising his glass.  “Today marks the start of a new era of cooperation between Lantsovs and the Grisha,” he announced, and something in your stomach plummeted.  “I’m delighted to announce my engagement to Alina Starkov, the Sun Summoner, and new leader of the Second Army.  Together, we will build a better future for Ravka.”

He called for a toast, but you couldn’t bring yourself to raise your glass, much less force a smile.  The man you loved, unrequitedly, but loved nonetheless, was no longer yours, as if he ever had been.  Nikolai was engaged, he was Alina’s, and she was his.  The cheers of the crowd were suddenly too much to stand, and you stood, fleeing the room as you fought tears.  Vasily had left too, as had Alina’s tracker friend, but Nikolai only saw that you had left.

“Excuse me,” he said, both to his mother and to Alina, before following you.  “Y/N?  Y/N!”  Tears were flowing now, and you kept walking, wiping at your eyes.  “Y/N, stop!”  You didn’t, continuing until you met a dead end, resting your forehead against the stone wall.  Nikolai jogged to your side, laying a hand on your shoulder.  “What’s wrong?”

You sniffled.  “So that’s it?” you said.  “You’re engaged?”  “Y/N, you’ve got to understand, I-”  “You barely know her,” you shot, turning to face him.  “Alina is a good person,” he replied.  “She is kind, she…she will be a good wife.”  You wiped at your eyes again.  “I’m happy for you,” you said, and Nikolai cocked his head.  “Then why are you crying, Y/N?  Talk to me.”

You nearly growled.  “Why am I crying?  Because it hurts, Nikolai!”  Immediately, his eyes were scanning you for some injury, something that was causing pain.  “What?  What hurts?”  You spoke so softly, Nikolai did not hear.  “What was that?”  “Loving someone that doesn’t love you!”  The Prince was stunned by your words and he blinked.  “W-what?”

“I love you!” you cried, desperation filling your voice.  “I’ve loved you for years!  And you never saw me, and that was fine!  I could live with being your friend, even when I knew you’d have to marry someone who wasn’t me and leave me!  But now we’re at war and you’re engaged to the Sun Summoner!  And it hurts, Nikolai, it hurts!  And I…I…”

“Saints, Y/N,” Nikolai whispered, striding forward and pulling you into his arms, kissing you deeply.  You gripped him tightly, never wanting to let go.  He kissed you until your head was swimming, until your lungs were burning, until you were trembling in his arms, until you had to pull away for air.  “Y/N, I love you.”  You blinked at him, your noses bumping together.  “You do?”  “I do.  I’ve been in love with you since we were 14!  Since that boy told you that you should wear your corset tighter and you socked him in the nose.”

You barked out a laugh, unable to resist leaning in for another kiss.  “I’ve loved you since I watched you take a bullet and keep fighting.”  Nikolai smiled, kissing you again, and again, and again.  “But now you’re engaged,” you said.  “Sweet girl, that engagement is for alliances and appearances and we both know it.  I have no doubt that Alina’s in a corridor consoling her tracker right now.  Once we’ve won the war, we can break off the engagement and I’ll be free to court and woo you.  Which I fully plan on doing, by the way.”

You laughed again, pressing your forehead against his.  “I love you, Nikolai Lantsov,” you whispered, cupping his cheek.  “And I will always love you.”  “And I love you, Y/N L/N,” he whispered back, snaking an arm around your waist.  “Mark my words, I will make you my bride.  Someday.”  Someday, you liked that.  It was a promise, and it steadily became your mantra, as the war progressed.  Someday.

[twstfanblog]

LMAO jack is worried about the wrong thing! A period≠heat but ovulation=heat

Also, in theory, couldn't Yuu just ask for maternity pads? After people give birth hospitals usually give them huge pads so that they can heal without worrying about staining their clothes and bed with blood. Although I can see why they don't get those because 1) all boys school kinda makes people forget those exist 2) that would attract attention cause what do you mean a staff member at NRC is buying maternity pads monthly??? 3) Crowley probably doesn't know, and while that's mostly a good thing, it can also mean that they can't bring stuff that could tie to pregnancy on school grounds on a regular basis without some permission

Lowkey, the biology difference Period Drama brings to light can be so annoying to deal with because it always calls into question what else it effects. The reason Twist girls dont get periods is that instead of removing the lining altogether, their internal magic just refreshs it to it's former state. Which more than likely will extend to what happens after birth. And if it didnt, again, Magic. They can just heal things very easily with spells and potions in a hospital setting. So more than likely maternal pads don't exist past an actual sheet they put down for the birth that's then removed after they heal the mother up.

I made this idea for a reason based purely on the idea that periods dont happen in Twist because MAGIC. It's a lot of world building potential for a world that always had magic as an alternative to common problems plus how that would change things as an evolution standpoint.

Im guessing you're coming from the period drama romance series. But yeah they are flying blind a lot and will make their own wrong assumptions on how the period actually works. As much as Jack knows, you get your period because you aren't pregnant -> its probably to make you more likely to have children to avoid this painful process -> this is a really kinda fucked up heat.

Im not stating the things im writing in this series as facts, not until the Ignihyde part where Idia and Yuu really deep dive because Idia needs to properly update her medical file and to do so he needs to actually understand what the fuck is happening and he doesn't trust Yuu's second hand knowledge.

Peace and love. This feels charged the more I read it over, but I really just mean it as a way to explain the way my world building shaped up from this one silly idea.

[bwat5-blog]

The Pitfighter

**Spoilers For All of Arcane**

Two minutes, fifty-nine seconds. That my friends, is how long we spend with Vi during perhaps one of the most significant periods in her character's story. In the beginning of her story, Violet is a character who lives for those she loves. They are her tethers. To protect them and be with them is what drives her on, because as we will come to understand she does not see that she is worthy of that same love and protection. Not in the beginning.

And from the time we meet her after the time jump in season 1 until this point, we are seeing those tethers ripped away from her. The hope she has held onto of finding Powder and making amends, ended with her perched over her little sister as she told Vi she was ready to die, and that she was glad Vi was going to kill her.

Her hope and belief in Caitlyn, who rescued her from that hellish darkness from which she had no chance of escape, for whom she put on the uniform, ended as the only Enforcer to ever show her kindness struck her, and told her she was no different than the woman who killed her mother. Walking away from her as she cried.

Her pride and identity as one of the of the fissure folk, has been tarnished and betrayed by her own hand. She tried to do the right thing, but at the end of the day, she wore the symbol of her people's oppressors, and did violence in the streets of her birth.

There is nuance and depth to all of these situations, but my point in listing them this way is that Vi has had everything holding her together taken away. This period, which there is so little detail about the best I can find for an official length of time is "a few months", is Vi falling through darkness without end.

And as we know, it is from that darkness that she rises stronger and more resolute. She comes to love her sister as the woman she is now, not the ghost Vi was holding onto. She protects Jinx and Isha from Warwick until they get through to Vander allowing their family to know even a brief moment of joy. She is able to trust, and believe in Caitlyn after the time spent seeing the good in her sister. It is not that this period of her life is important because it does not end, but because it does. It is the ending of who Vi was, and the beginning of who she becomes.

"Is there any question of the meaning of what we were shown? It's clear what she is going through and that's enough"

"Some people don't understand the meaning of show, don't tell"

"If you need everything spelled out for you this level of adult media is not for you"

I have seen these points. I have discussed them with some of you, and some of you who have been kind enough to keep up with my writing share some of these beliefs. And that is your right. I don't mean any disrespect to you, or the wonderful and immensely talented people who brought us this story. But, simply and plainly put. I do not, and cannot agree. If all that you require of a story is to understand the plot than I have good news my friends. Hang up your spurs and open Wikipedia. The plot summary should be all that you require.

I understand the value of show don't tell. Truly I do. And its use in this show gives many of our most wonderful moments. The softening of Caitlyn's eyes the moment after she hits Vi... the horror on Violet's face as she sits on top of Jinx preparing to end her life, and sees Powder... There are countless more examples and the creatives behind this have used it to create a powerful story full of meaning that has infinite rewatch value. And I said, it's not that the meaning is not conveyed here.

Her muscle mass is decidedly less as it goes on, showing us she is taking worse and worse care of herself.

There are multiple flashes of Jinx in the crowd, watching her, (in my mind she is watching over her in the best way Jinx can process but I suppose that is up to interpretation)

Vi is ticking away the time on her wall like she is in a prison cell

She stops cleaning off her makeup after a point

None of her hallucinations of Caitlyn are in her strike team phase. They are all of the Caitlyn who was kind and loving to Vi.

There are more details I could list that many others have. Again, and I cannot emphasize this enough, it is NOT that they do not accurately and completely convey the meaning of what is occuring. But that is just not all that matters.

Those of you who keep up with my grouchy unhinged rambling, have seen my use the same phrase repeatedly in one form or another.

"Stand up for the stories that matter"

I believe the story of Arcane matters. Not because of the magic, or the fun creatures, or the cool steampunk technology, but because at it's core, it is quite possibly the most achingly human story I have seen in many years. Each character's story has been crafted with such care, their struggles and hopes and dreams layering together in such a way that they have captured the attention of people all over the world.

I have corresponded with people who have shared truly inspirational changes in their lives, because of the way in which this story connected with them. It matters. And I came here and started discussing this incredible saga with all of you because I have believed that since I was very young, and I always will. So I say this with all of the respect in the world. Feel free to condescend all that you wish, about the need of those who feel as I do to have the story "spoon fed" to us. The desire to fully understand the weight of the heroes' journey, will always be a step to the betterment of humanity.

Let me also say, that I truly have endless respect for those who brought this story to us. I should think it is quite clear from the amount of writing I have done these past several weeks, that I have deep love for what they have done. And I fully and completely admit that in real world application, there are endless complications and restrictions that resulted in the pacing and decisions of season 2, that an average person like myself does not understand. I am not in any way speaking on whatever production decision lead to this being handled in this way. And I can admit that it may be there were such restrictions, that meant it was impossible for this to be handled in any way.

But for the weight of this moment in Violet's story, for its importance in the journey of a character who cannot put herself first to the point it harms her, to sit with her in that moment where all that is left is her pain... two minutes, and fifty-nine seconds.

"There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you" - Maya Angelou, I know why the caged bird sings (1969)

[stickyricewithmangosauce]

idk if i sound pessimistic when i say this but there are also lots of charcters in naruto that have no purpose right 😭 the many female charcters of kishimoto who had a lot of potential but who cares right it's your typical shounen shitshow. i get mad whenever i think of kurenai or anko like yeah we get it kishi you don't want women unless its for fanservice

I don't think it's pessimistic at all, just realistic. I mean, Ibiki? In theory he should have such an important role in Konoha, but he's unimportant after the Chunin exam. Or the entire ninja population in war? Why raise an army and create big scenes with it when Jesus Naruto saves everyone's ass?

And the women in Naruto… If you want to piss me off in less than five words, all you have to do is remind me of the treatment of female characters in Naruto and Shounen in general. I hate the excuse But Shounen is for boys, they don't need female characters! Even if Shounen was only for boys, that doesn't mean you should throw out all female characters except, as you said, for fan service. God forbid, if boys learn early on that women can be just as complex as men. A nightmare!

Kurenai's genjutsu should basically be on par with Itachi's(as was stated before in Naruto OG)! And instead of a cool fight, she gets that one scene with Itachi and then becomes a mother. She's just as much a Jonin as Asuma or Kakashi or Gai and each of them had fantastic moments, but Kurenai. She's the mother of Asuma's child, that's her biggest role. Especially in the middle/end of Shippuden it would have been so cool to see Genjutsu, which comes up right away with the Sharingan. Just to make the Uchiha not completly almitghy, because why even bother if your fate is decided by birth(oh hi neji...)?

Or Anko, who was cast out as Orochimaru's student, but just keeps doing her shit. Who brings grown men to tears as an afternoon hobby. And now imagine an Ino, who specializes in mind technique, is trained by someone as ruthless like Anko.

Or a Hinata who isn't particularly good at fighting, but understands politics and all the more important politicians because of her background. A Hinata who is always underestimated, but perfekt as a diplomat of Konoha and always gets the best deal. Who, together with Neji, overthrows the Hyuuga system before the main branch even notices it.

A Tsunade who is supposed to be just as strong as Jiraiya and Orochimaru, as has been mentioned several times, but crouches on the ground in despair when Pain attacks the village? How about a Tsunade who fought in the second Shinobi war, who turned the entire war against Suna in her favor just through her intellect. Who is seen as having experience in battle and in her decisions as Hokage.

Or Sakura, who is supposed to be the best Konoichi of her year and the second smartest person of the Konoha 12. Right after Shikamaru. No joke, according to canon she is smarter than Sasuke, Neji, Shino, Ino. She is said to have an IQ of 174. So, in our world, she has a higher IQ than Stephen Hawking and is estimated to be on a similar level to Albert Einstein. She could have been an inventor like Tobirama Senju, but instead her entire character is designed to look after the boys and men in the series. Like almost all other female characters in Naruto, Sakura's entire world revolves around the male characters in her life and how she can somehow be like them.

I love Naruto, but as a woman I find it's getting harder and harder to ignore. Naruto in general has the problem of caring too much about Naruto and Sasuke and ignoring everything else, it's just that it's most evident in the female characters.

As much as I like Naruto, as woman it tends to get frustrating to watch when you have all that potential in front of you, but it is just not getting used.

[angel-of-hunky-doryness]

The Conflicts of Disney's Hercules (Part 3): Hades vs Zeus

Brother vs brother- talk about a tale as old as time, huh? From Cain and Abel to Hamlet and Claudius to the more modern examples of Mufasa and Scar to Thor and Loki, what's not to hate about about two brothers at odds with one another? Well technically its more of an angsty, brooding guy who's had it up to here with their perfect golden retriever brother getting the throne, daddy's attention, and/or the girl. While our bootiful no-thoughts head empty golden child becomes intimately aware at the last possible second of their brother's treachery as they're falling into your proverbial wildebeest stampede.

That's right y'all.

May I present to the surprise of no one.

THEM:

Finally we come to the conflict that sent the proverbial Sisyphean boulder into motion that is Disney's Hercules.

Part I: And now a word from our IV pound sponsor:

Before I begin my analysis on the relationship between Disney's Hades and Zeus, I thought I would provide a bit of background to the established canon Disney presents us. Mind you, dear reader, we have the 1997 film and the Hercules animated TV show (1998) to look towards. However, there are minor conflicting information between the two, but as always, the movie is always more canon than what the TV show gave us.

Zeus is older, Hades is younger. Weird I know.

But I'm gonna go out on a limb here and support Disney on this one. Because while in the grand scheme of things Hades is most definitely NOT the youngest child of the siblings in Greek Myth, there is a small technicality that cements Zeus' authority to rule over his older siblings as if Zeus was the firstborn child this whole time.

That technicality being: Kronos

Kronos gets the big bag prophecy/curse from Gaia that one of his children will overthrow him like he did with his dad, so Kronos starts baking his cake and eating it too.

Hades was the first male born (hestia is traditionally firstborn but patriarchy or whatevs) so that also made him the first to be swallowed by Kronos. Thus, when Zeus freed the rest of his siblings, Hades was the last son to be up-chucked since he was ingested first - that made Hades the last "born."

And this "second birth" of Poseidon, Hera, Demeter, Hades, and Hestia is what cements the order of authority in the 6 siblings hierarchy. Therefore, Zeus was made firstborn and had full authority to claim the sky if he so desired.

But Zeus was a chad in those days and still gave his brothers a chance to draw lots and all that b/c even he saw how unfair the Fates had been to his brothers. Yet still, destiny favored Zeus and Mr. High and Mighty got the kingdom with a view.

Which is a perfect segway to the next set of rules I'm working with here:

2. Zeus is a good guy.

Okay, I know it hurts to accept this, buttercups, but we have to muscle through it. The version of Zeus that we got in Disney's Hercules is a sanitized, lovable goofball who loves his son, his wife (is that allowed?), and his brother who's going through a phase.

BTW I would like to draw attention to the fact this is the first time in an adaptation of greek myth where Hera is Hercules' bio mother. This is clearly outlining to the audience- hey! Zeus is faithful?

So Zeusy's worst flaw (infidelity, Don Juan, insatiable sexual appetite- pick your poison) has been erased. That's wild, but we have to accept this to better understand the context of Hades vs Zeus. We have to establish who has morality in this equation. Earlier parts of my Hercules Conflicts series had obvious good guys vs Hades, but for this one I have to build it up because of the history of these mythological figures.

However, before I roll into it, I would like to dig on Mr. Thunder Dunder Head once.

This man violated the Geneva Conventions doing this to Danny DeVito:

Talk about some Zeus ex machina- yeesh.

Part II: And Then Along Came Zeus

With the introduction out of the way, now we can talk about the central conflict that kickstarted this movie into gear.

From the get-go, Hades establishes that he doesn't reciprocate his brother's affection. What should've been a good ol' fashioned family reunion turned into a neon flashing sign that Hades is very uncomfy around his brother. Hell, even when Zeus is trying to be friendly he ends up ordering him around.

And I don't think anyone's mentioned this before, but doesn't it seem like Zeus is just as touchy-feely here as Hades is with those beneath them? It makes me wonder if Hades learned this behavior from Zeus.

Now, we also get the idea that Zeus is clueless. Not just to how Hades is purposefully keeping him at arm's length, but also to how the other party guests, the gods, get very quiet and passive aggressive the second Hades showed up to spoil the party.

And you better believe this three-minute scene is the basis for this entire post. And there is a lot to digest here.

First off, we get Hades' motivation, his goals, and the receipts. You better believe this babe is writing in his little black burn book as soon as he gets back in his chariot.

From Zeus, to Hercules, to the rest of the gods, home boy has a lot to update after popping in after a long time. And I hate to be that guy, but a show of hands on who felt more sympathetic for Hades here?

Like I've mentioned in Disney's Most Sympathetic villain post already, but Hades' villain entrance is not intimidating in the slightest. If anything, it quickly establishes that Hades is kind of a loser in these circles.

To recap, while on Mt Olympus for two minutes Hades is:

Manhandled by his older brother

Manhandled by his nephew (ok i get this one, he nearly hurt a baby, those are spikes after all)

Ignored. Nobody but Zeus makes eye contact/or acknowledges him. More than likely this is b/c they can't stand the guy and out of respect for Zeus they've elected to just ignore him and hope he goes away.

Zeus gaslights him - yes, the guy who gave him the underworld job is telling him to slow down and live a little. That's like your boss gives you a crap load of work and comes by to ask you why he never sees you take time off. I will die on this hill that's positively diabolical.

And lastly, Hades gets laughed off the mountain.

Not once in this entire film did Zeus ever check up on Hades after this. Not to apologize, not to make up for lost time, bring up an opportunity for a party you could come to, or perform a wellness check. That would've been so hilarious seeing Zeus pop into the underworld and the entire scene is just Hades shenanigans of trying to cover up evidence of his plot to murder this guy.

Although to be fair, Myth!Zeus had the same issue!

BUT to Myth!Zeus's credit, he made an attempt to improve his brooding brother's mood. And he did it in the worst way possible by immediately fixing him up with Persephone. So you really can't say that Myth!Zeus isn't trying.

Now since I've bashed Zeus I will give him some credit on his first scene. Hades isn't there to stay and chat, he's on a recon mission. And he evades all his brother's attempts at conversation. He cuts bolt boy off, uses humor as a defense mechanism, and he deflects every time Zeus tries to get cozy. Why?

Homeboy found out a new godling was born.

And the way the movie presents Baby Hercules- from Zeus being awkward and kind of scared to hold him- I get the vibes that the writers are making Zeus out to be a first time dad.

Yeah, apparently we're ignoring Athena, Ares, Apollo, Artemis, Bacchus, Hermes, Hephaestus, etc

Wild I know, but there is a purpose to it.

@persephoneflowerpetals made a very interesting blog post about this particular aspect that deserves a look and got me to thinking.

So not to steal their thunder, but Hades showing up to Hercules' Amphidromia (ancient greek family festival where newborn babies are given their name in front of their family & friends on 5th or 7th day of life) was for him to see who his competition was - whether or not Hercules sided with Zeus or not when Hades' own uprising happens.

And by not siding with Zeus, I'm talking about Hercules having his own type of uprising and usurping his father as all the previous kings had done before him.

Which is really cool! It's taking the Lion King/Hamlet story from a different angle. The nephew is just as much of a threat as his father if not more.

You see age doesn't really factor for Greek gods (Artemis was born minutes before her brother and she helped her mom deliver him & the food of the gods aged baby godlings quickly) so it's a very smart move for Hades to see what he was up against very quickly. Hell at this point in time he had no idea he just needed to wait 18 more years for his uprising.

And that's why Hades was more concerned about the sunspot than his own brother. It could very well be that he wouldn't be fighting Zeus, but Hercules for the ownership of the Olympian throne.

This puts Hercules on equal footing with Zeus in terms of level and power and establishes why Herc is the main protagonist- not Zeus.

Hell, if anything, Hades knows from experience that posterity can easily overtake the previous generation. He did that once despite the odds being stacked against him and his siblings even though Gospel Truth claims Zeus stopped the Titans on his own.

Part III: Olympus is That Way

The Titan Jail break will never not be funny to me. We see 5 giant Titans stomping around in the woods, the seas, the fields, cities, etc in what I am assuming is about sunrise?

You mean to tell me there wasn't a single person- or god, we have to remember there are gods in this universe that didn't want to- I don't know- let Zeus know what was coming? I mean it's not like Poseidon would know they were freed from their underwater prison, or Apollo as he's driving his chariot- it is a bit cloudy after all, or any others to notice their cities with mortals actively praying to them are under a massive attack.

Horses were killed, Poseidon. Your descendants. My sibling the horse girl is very disappointed in you.

Now I know this is touched upon in my series Hercules Conflicts Part II, but it does merit a mention since ultimately it is Zeus' fault / laziness that the Titans were able to show up on their front doorstep without anyone realizing until too late.

And Zeus is absolutely torn apart when he realizes it was his brooding baby brother who gave him the ol' Judas Kiss.

I couldn't find the gif of Zeus' realization face that maybe what his brother was going through was not just a phase. However, just like Mufasa before him, bolt boy realizes too late of his brother's treachery.

And what's the last line, Hades delivers to Zeus:

Oh?!

Is- is Hades bitter about the job Zeus gave him? Of being ordered around while the rest of the pantheon got to play around and have some fun?

Jokes aside, but Hades' whole plot, all his animosity and antagonism towards Zeus came because of the lot he was given by bolt boy over here. And while Hades does call Zeus his greatest rival it's because Zeus put him in that position in the first place.

Zeus created his worst enemy.

It's like one of my profs commented once in my classes back in my uni days. The oil spill that happened in the Gulf of Mexico didn't happen because of one mistake. It happened because of several mistakes, several oversights, several safety overrides for the sake of not losing money were made over a period of years that eventually lead to a disaster that no longer could be ignored.

And that is ultimately what became Zeus' fatal flaw in this movie.

His negligence.

We can blame the other gods for not being as committed as well, but it's like Hopper says in bug's life:

Zeus is at fault for his brother's betrayal, his son being turned mortal, and the mess the Titan's left in their wake.

So at the end of the movie when the Muses deliver another absolute banger, the system doesn't change. Things go back to the way they were just minus the one guy at the bottom most rung of the cosmos' ladder.

If change is to happen it starts at the top.

Not to end this on a downer- although we all know how screwed this world is after the credits roll, but I am happy to report, dear reader, that change does happen.

It's small, but it's still resounding.

Hercules chooses not to join his father. Just as Hades predicted in the opening scene if you go along with my theory from earlier in this post in Part II. And this wasn't even with the assistance of prophecy, it was because Hades knew his brother too well.

Zeus has a very exclusive club atop Olympus and he would never let someone like Meg, despite all that she's sacrificed and redeemed herself for. Because Meg is a representation of Hades here. Something I was very vocal about in Part 1 of my Hercules Conflicts Series.

And before you argue, remember, Zeus is the one who told Hercules that only gods can live on Olympus. Bolt boy knew Hercules was about to ask for a freebie for her, but his stance was made very clear on the matter.

So, Hercules refuses. Hades was proven to be correct.

Now, Hades just didn't know why Hercules would defect. And Hercules goes back to being a mortal because of Hades. Because Hades put Meg in the right place at the right time. Sure, it's because of Meg that Hades loses. But Hades got someone to realize Olympus isn't all its cracked up to be.

Through mortality.

The very aspect Hades himself represents as lord of the dead and god of the underworld.

Maybe Hades did win after all.

If you made it this far, thanks for reading!

Till next time, my dear readers

~Angel

[wolfpawzjakey]

https://www.tumblr.com/wolfpawzjakey/749043622098370560/jercy-mpreg-its-such-a-good-opportunity-for?source=share

One day, Jason feels especially stressed and does not want to disturb Percy, [he had just started a period of toxicosis, he vomited so that he would not eat and the inability to get out of bed did not improve the situation at all].

After saying goodbye to Sally, who arrived on time to visit her son, he leaves to meet with Thalia.

They buy beer and sit on a bench in an almost deserted park, next to his sister, silently understanding and still dearly loved, Jason breaks down.

He cries and wheezes softly that he is afraid of becoming like their father, - suddenly after the birth of the child, something will jam in him and after a few months he will leave Percy alone with the baby and maybe come back in a couple of years to make a second child and leave this time forever.

Thalia kisses him on the forehead and says that all this is impossible even theoretically, Jason, according to her, is too good and perfect.

by the way, your thoughts are great :)) - Anon

Thank you anon thank you

I think Jason’s cycle of self hate needs to be abolished (but god do I love to cause some hurt on these guys, it’s just too interesting and fun). It’s true in all ways that Jason’s nature would never allow him to do such a terrible thing. He knows in the back of his head but his fears of the what ifs’ are just too much for him to believe in himself. No matter how much his sister believes, or Percy, or Percy’s mother who should have the most distrust (just out of nature to protect her son no matter what), he can never fully believe in himself. Not for a long time.

It can split two ways from here me thinks. Jason either gradually believes in himself, bettering himself the longer his child, the beautiful person they have been born to be, is in his life. He learns truly that he can make mistakes and not be terrible like his father was because just as he does, Percy makes mistakes too. And their baby loves them just the same, and that continues as time flies by and as their child grows into their own little person with their own thoughts and opinions. He realizes, he could never, ever be that way. Not with how much love he has.

The second path is the path of failure, Jason is never a bad dad. At least he wouldn’t have ever been one if he’d lived to become one. But he couldn’t be a good one either, never got that chance either. He dies in a puddle of his own blood, tears streaming from his eyes because he’d never get to prove himself wrong. A revelation hits too late because he knows his worries were just that. No one is ever afraid of being terrible because they actually will be. Terrible people do not fear being terrible, they do not fear being the worst. But more often than not, good people do, he knows he would’ve been a good parent. But he’ll never get the chance to prove that to himself.

[the-tragic-heroine]

死鬼祭 | Shiki Matsuri

fandom: tokyo revengers

characters: kurokawa izana, kakucho, haitani ran, haitani rindou, madarame shion, kokonoi hajime

pairings: tenjiku x female reader

cw: blood, violence, major character death, supernatural elements, mass murder, angst with happy ending, kinda, she/her pronouns used for reader

tags: @akemiixx01​

—✧ SUMMARY ✧—

The villagers say that you cursed them all. You believe that they were the ones who cursed you. (Or, in which the circumstances of your unfortunate birth woke a forgotten, slumbering god.)

Very vague depictions of the supernatural here, and a few cameos of specific yokai if you can spot them! Title is based off of a song by KODOKULOVE! More characters may be added as the story progresses.

Read on AO3 Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six

CHAPTER 柒 SEVEN (FINAL)

“Welcome back,” Izana said as you settled back into your own body again. “Are you with me?”

You nodded, staring straight ahead.

“Good. How do you feel?”

“Awful,” you replied bluntly. Then, “Was that really me?”

Izana hummed. “Who knows… but I like to think that it was. Some way or another, you came back—and I believe that somehow, I was given the chance to make things right.” When he looked at you, you were transported centuries back to those same amethyst eyes: divine and ethereal in its majesty, but shedding tears like a heartbroken human man.

“It hurt,” you told him honestly. “It hurt more than the day I was bashed over the head and burned with a torch. I should hate you for making me go through that. Yet…” You trailed off. “Yet, I can’t. I can’t hate you because now, I understand.”

The you who grew up with nothing would have never been able to comprehend the pain of losing absolutely everything.

“The Sano household still stands, even to this day,” you said. “But my family’s old home has long since been built over. They erased both you and us from history and replaced it with the legend of a cunning fox, who tried to disguise itself as a human woman so it could kill the village lord. Not even my mother knew the truth, as it died along with me that night.” You met his piercing gaze. “But you knew, didn’t you? You knew the second you saw me and the blood that came out from between my legs. And the guilt of it followed you forever.”

Izana said nothing.

“I’m sorry,” you said. “I’m sorry for deceiving you. I’m sorry for leaving you all alone.” You smiled at him, eyes dry and free from tears. “But I’m here now, so let me help you.”

This time, when Izana smiled back, you found that he had never looked more lovely.

—✧—

The remaining walk to the village did not take very long, and when you both arrived, you could not even be shocked anymore at the sight that awaited you.

It was as if the entire village, from the rooftops to the streets, had been doused with foul, oozing tar. The malevolent spirits clung onto the sides of buildings, adhered themselves to the weary, zombie-like villagers who appeared to have lost all will to live. None even seemed to notice me as I peered out from behind the trees near the village entrance. Farther into the distance, I recognised the looming presence of the painfully familiar Sano household and its demons, sitting at the very top of the sloping hill.

“How unfair,” you said, “that one man’s sin would be enough to doom an entire civilization.”

“Such is the nature of man,” Izana replied, voice carried by the breeze.

Perhaps the long dream had broken something deep inside of you, because when your gaze came to rest on a crumpled heap along the side of an alley, surrounded by bloodied sticks and stones and with a cloud of both flies and demons hovering overhead, you did not even blink. Probably because the body reminded you a bit of yours, all those centuries ago… and you could no longer find within yourself any remaining ounce of sympathy left for the villagers who had shunned you and your bloodline, tortured you throughout your entire life, for a crime you had never even committed.

You did not feel human when you turned to Izana and said with a smile, “Burn them all.”

—✧—

It was the night of a full moon when you and Izana led an army of a hundred yokai to descend upon the village—but the only person the villagers saw was you. As if in a trance, they watched silently as you walked through the center of all the buildings, eyes set straight ahead, ignoring the chattering monsters that began to crawl close behind. When you reached the foot of the hill leading up to the Sano household, you finally turned around.

Behind you, Izana was already waiting, invisible to the eyes of the mortal men. All he had to do was raise one hand—and then, the massacre began.

Screams blended together with the laughter of Izana’s contracted spirits as one-by-one, the houses burst into flame. Wooden rafters creaked and groaned, snapping and smoldering while people desperately scrambled for safety—only to run headfirst into the jaws of the eagerly awaiting yokai, who devoured their souls and left only empty husks behind. The demonic entities that clung to the village were swept up into the chaos, latching onto and attacking both humans and yokai alike—but they were nothing more than fodder for Izana’s army, who quickly consumed them as well.

You caught glimpses of your shrine’s men in the crowd; Ran and Rindou were all too happy to stomp the demons flat, not caring if any humans were in the way. Shion killed any creature who crossed his path, human or demon, occasionally having to be yanked aside before he could attack an ally by accident. Kokonoi mostly stayed on the sidelines, away from the violence, but did not hesitate to crush any victims who strayed too far from the center of the battle. And you watched as Kakucho, whose eyes once swam with guilt and remorse, guarded the village border—catching whoever made it far enough in their attempt to escape and ripping their hearts from their chests. When he raised his head and briefly caught your gaze, you saw that he wore an expression of nothing but cold dedication to his duty.

As buildings and villagers collapsed and burned alike, you stood at the center of it all. Dying people cried out and begged for their lives like you were a god. How ironic, you thought to yourself as they perished like ants beneath a merciless heel; you had once died here, too, like nothing but a wounded animal, without even the chance to plead to your own beloved god for salvation. You wondered, if you could have chosen how you died, which you would pick: burning together with your people, or bleeding out alone in front of an entire village’s scrutiny.

The sudden touch against the back of your hand dragged you from your thoughts and you found yourself blinking up at Izana, who slipped your hand into his. As he interlaced your fingers together, he leaned in and rested his forehead against yours—mirroring the night of your death. You closed your eyes, letting the sounds of destruction fade into the back of your mind as he spoke.

“This is not the end,” he said, his voice a gentle caress. “This is only the beginning. Let this be the day of our rebirth.”

“Our rebirth,” you echoed, and closed the gap between your lips. In that moment, encircled by death and fire, you had never felt happier.

—✧—

The Sano manor was the only building still standing after the rest of the village was reduced to piles of smoldering ash. You stood before it, matchstick in hand, facing the same doors you had once been thrown out of.

“You tried to erase our bloodline,” you told the house, lifting the match into the air. “How funny that instead, mine will be the only one that remains.”

The match sailed through the air, flame dancing to a familiar melody. When the manor began to burn, instead of the crackling of flames, you heard the humming of your mother while she brushed your hair, woven together with the whimsical laughter of your little brother and sister.

You sat and watched until the house was no more, until all that was left of the fire was the curling of smoke into the air. Until you could no longer hear your family’s song.

“Goodbye,” you said, and cried.

—✧—

“Go sit down,” Rindou snapped at you as you tried to help sweep up some of the debris. “You shouldn’t be here anyway! You should be resting back at home.”

“She’s not a doll, Rin Let her do what she wants,” Ran piped up, standing so that he could stretch from where he had been moving rubble off to the side. “Ugh, some of this stuff is getting into my hair…”

You rolled your eyes at the two of them and huffed. “You guys are absolutely useless at cleaning. Especially Ran. That’s why I’m here, because the mess should have been cleared by now so we can actually start rebuilding everything!”

“Oh, come now,” Kokonoi laughed, sticking out his tongue at your bickering. “Why not pay for some more help? Not that I’m offering to spare some of my own money, though.”

“You’re useless too,” you grumbled right back. “I can’t believe you have the audacity to ask us to pay you to help! Why does Izana still keep you around? Also, where the hell did Shion go?”

As if on cue, a bloodcurdling screech erupted from a rubble pile a short distance away, before Shion popped into view with a disgruntled tanuki dangling by the tail from his clenched fist.

“Ever since we destroyed everything, this place has been crawlin’,” Shion said, eyeing the wriggling creature. “Might as well eat some of ‘em, right?”

You dropped your broom. “Shion! Let it go!”

“It’s lively here, but somehow, it seems that even less work is being done,” came Kakucho’s smooth, deep voice from behind you, right as Shion begrudgingly dropped the poor tanuki. It scampered back into the forest.

You sighed. “It’s like wrangling with children. I don’t know how you and Izana manage it.”

Kakucho laughed, and you were once again struck by the raw beauty of his happy face. “Well, when you’ve been together with these guys for hundreds of years, what’s just a few minutes more in comparison?” He patted your shoulder. “Take a break. I know you’re excited to get things finished, but there’s no real rush. There are no people left aside from you now, after all. And, well, except for…”

A loud yell and crash interrupted him mid-sentence, the two of you looking up just in time to see Izana cheerfully kicking Shion into a mountain of splintered wood. Ran and Rindou guffawed while Kokonoi snickered into one of his fluffy tails. Kakucho rolled his eyes and set off to help Shion up, who was now loudly complaining about splinters, leaving you to watch the scene with a little shake of your head—but unable to wipe the affectionate smile from your face. You were still smiling when Izana made his way over to your side.

“You look happy,” he murmured, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear before wrapping his arms around you with a sigh of contentment.

“That’s because I am,” you replied, laughing softly. “I never thought someone like me could ever be happy in this lifetime… but thanks to all of you, I’ve been proven wrong. Even though it took a lot of pain and heartache to get here.” And human sacrifices, your mind added helpfully, though you chose to ignore it.

Izana rested his chin on your shoulder with a pleased hum. “If anyone deserves happiness, it’s you.”

You closed your eyes and smiled. “If you say so. And what about you? Are you happy?”

You felt the curve of his lips against your neck as he responded without hesitation. “Of course I am. And so are the others. We’ve waited centuries to find our happiness again—and now that we found it, we don’t plan on letting you go.”

“I’m… your happiness?” Your words came out in a shaky whisper.

“…Always have been, from the very start.”

The tears of joy rolling down your cheeks became glistening sparkles underneath the warmth of the noontime sun. “Then, don’t. Don’t let me go. Let me stay by your side for the rest of my life—and for the rest of yours.”

“You’ve gotten better with your words since becoming one with me,” Izana said. “Do you feel any different, now that you’ve joined me in becoming a god?”

“Not really,” you said, after some thought. “I feel exactly the same. Who knows, maybe I was actually god all this time! After all, gods are formed from the power of belief, right?”

Izana hummed. “Indeed. This world works in mysterious ways—but that’s the beauty of it, isn’t it?”

“At the very least, I do feel like I’ve been reborn, like you said.” One of your hands found its way atop of Izana’s, where it rested over the slight swell of your stomach. “So I hope that it’s a sign of this village’s eventual rebirth, as well.”

“I’m sure it is,” he replied, closing his eyes. His long eyelashes brushed against your skin in a fluttering kiss. “We’ll rebuild it together, piece by piece.”

—✧—

a/n: Sorry if the ending was rather abrupt kdasjlsl I ACTUALLY HAVE ANOTHER FIC I PLAN ON DROPPING SOON SO I JUST WANTED TO FINISH THIS UP QUICKLY SO I CAN GET TO IT!! also, what do you guys think of an epilogue?and btw, before anyone asks about the logistics of how they're gonna rebuild an entire village with just y/n and the boyz, there are neighbouring villages and travelers who will eventually move in and settle permanently! as for how repopulating the village with humans as a god is gonna work, idk just go with it LMAO THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR READING THIS WAS A WILD RIDE AND BY FAR THE LONGEST FIC I HAVE EVER WRITTEN I HOPE YOU ENJOYED IT!!! NOW ONTO MY NEXT ONE!!!