#average father and son quality time

[yingxtkm]

I don’t know why but I still have this old shitty photoshop edit I made in my server awhile back in my camera roll. So I’m blessing y���all with it :^)) yw

[kbagraces]

Flip A Switch - Lando Norris

Lando Norris Mafia AU

As much as we try to suppress the stigma, strong women will continue to be perceived as intimidating until you learn to love us.

THIS IS DISCONTINUED PLZ READ NO TIME TO DIE INSTEAD - SAME PLOT BUT BETTER

PART 1 - Unnecessary Violence

Women are small. They should act naive, innocent and weak. That's what you were told. That's what i was still told. Mother said it's the most attractive thing a girl can be. My brother said it's the safest thing a girl can be. Daddy said it is the most stupid thing that i could be. 'Be strong', daddy said and to that i would reply with what my mother and brother had instilled into me. Anger would rise up, "You're a bright girl y/n, but you trust too easily. That'll do you no good if you follow in my footsteps."

I wanted to follow in his footsteps, i really did, but i was stuck in the contrasting beliefs of society and my father's expectations. I wanted to do him proud, he after all risked his life everyday to keep our family safe. But i was just a girl, what could i have done?

Daddy never got a real funeral, that's just the way it was for us kind of people. I think of him everyday, but no one dares to utter his name which leaves my mind to be his only place of rest. After he passed, my mother went awol, i haven't seen her in months. My brother is now mad with power, thinking that he can drag daddy's organisation from the pits it collapsed into. He is wrong. Daddy always said Keegan didn't have the ability to work in such a treacherous environment, but of course he never listened.

"Keegan, daddy wouldn't have wanted this. This is so far from how he'd organise things" I exclaimed, chasing after him down the halls of our family home. It was supposed to be an 'event' of sorts to celebrate my fathers life, too little too late i thought, Keegan never celebrated his life when he was actually alive. I was certain this was an attempt at gloating to his so called peers about his ever so important role, despite it being quite the contrary, he is only making things worse, which is literally impossible, but somehow not for Keegan.

"Just because you were dad's favourite does not mean that you know how to run this company, y/n. You're still a little girl. You know nothing. I learnt it all the day Dad bailed on us. Stop acting like he was a Saint, because, if you actually knew anything about how to run this, you would know he was far from it."

I wanted to fight back, but causing a seen was wrong, unnecessary and exactly what he wanted, and you would see me dead before I followed another mans orders, related or not.

The halls were starting to burst with people. The luxurious fabric of suits and gowns brushing against my bare arms as a turned from my brother and stormed away from his ignorance.

The corners of my mouth slightly turned upwards as i caught glimpses of those that i knew but not enough to allow them to want to stop for a conversation. The amount of people i didn't know however most certainly outweighed those that i did and that was how my brother worked. Quantity, not quality. All ego, no class, clarifying to me that this is in no way what my father would've wanted and is unfortunately all down to my brothers stupidity and selfishness.

The mafia is a dangerous place. Being the daughter of a previously feared leader does underpin you with some stereotypes. I, however, wasn't as conformist as the other girls that i knew. I wouldn't let the sleazy sons of other organisations tempt me into going against my family for a below average shag in the back of a stolen car. I'd like to think i had a little more class. As i looked disgustingly at the girls who were doing just that the mingling started as the sound of erratic jazz music drowned out the painfully boring conversations of controversy. Not even a week earlier most individuals were likely to have been literally at war.

I glanced across the room, my mothers 'friends' dotted around, judgemental scowls plastered across their faces. There we certainly some unusual and dangerous occurrences unfolding in front of me.

The jazz music cut off abruptly as my brother clambered on stage a few feeble looking goons following him in a pathetic attempt in looking intimidating, my hand instantly raising in humiliation.

"Well, that's embarrassing." the presence beside me uttered into my ear. My eyes raising in the attempt to recognise who the husky voice came from. Empty eyes were starring into mine, looking as disappointed as i was at my brothers underwhelming speech that he's spluttering out. I hummed in agreement turning back to the mess unfolding in front of me.

"I'm Lando."

Lando.

I recognised his face, flashes of my fathers profiles flickered through my mind as i tried to put name and face to his crime. He once worked here, but was found to be a rat.

"Norris?" Rat.

His eyebrow raised along with the slight quiver of the corner of his lip. "Impressive, you really are your fathers daughter. Perhaps it should be you that is up there." He nodded towards the stage.

An unsettling feeling rushed through my body, pushing his shoulder i questioned, "what do you think you're doing here? Do you not have an inch of respect?"

"I-"

He was cut off as Keegan pinned me as the next victim of his embarrassing 'speech' if you could even label it that. "And there she is." His eyes dark, filled with hatred. "The attention seeker of the family. The reason that dad died. The reason that i was neglected as a child. My father never appreciated me, i was the one destined for this life. I worked so hard to make him proud but princess y/n/n always stole the limelight. Which is why, you're out sis." He spat.

I felt empty, shocked. Out?

A hand wrapped around my bicep dragging me through the crowds of people. My senses finally kicked in after i was out of the hall.

I shook off the grip, "get off me!" I yelled. One of brothers goons looking into my eyes. "Out." He stated, nodding his head towards the entrance of my home. I tilted my head in shock.

"No. Fuck you. This is my fucking house. Who do you think you are?" My arm swung for his face, knuckles connecting to his cheek with unexpected force, after the shock had escaped him he grabbed my arms, pinning me to the wall my face pressing onto the cool surface. I felt the barrel of a gun press into my skull. Fuck. "You just find it so easy to fuck things up don't you. Keegan didn't say kill you, but i do fancy seeing your brains splattered against this wall."

"Why because you think it'll make Keegan love you a little bit more. Aw so cute-," i heard the gun being cocked and then suddenly all of the pressure he held against me fled my body, bang.

Swinging round, I was expecting pain to hit my body, nothing came. There he was lying on the floor, Lando standing above him, gun in hand starring at the victim on the floor. Silence filled the corridor and the hall that i was just forced out of. "Out. Now." he glared at me, his eyes flickering to the entrance doors behind me.

We began walking towards the doors before the guest in hall, looked out in curiosity to see a dead boy on the floor, blood pouring from his head. "I didn't need your help." I demanded as we excited what was once my home.

A snort left his nose, "you know, some how i don't think that is true and you're welcome by the way." We reached his car, to which he nodded his head to.

"You're joking, right? You really are mad if you think i'm going anywhere with you, whether you saved my life or not, i do not want to be around you.", now it was my turn to laugh.

"So you admit that i saved your life?" I rolled my eyes and began to walk down the road.

"They'll be after you. We can help you." he shouted down the road.

"See you around, Norris." I yelled back. No way in Hell am giving him what he wants, at least not right away.

***

Keegan hadn't tried to find me, but opposing gangs had and although i can certainly fight my own in a 'normal' situation, when fifteen groups of ruthless and revenge hungry men are after you it becomes hard to leave your house.

"You could just give Norris a bell." Mandi suggested. Sitting in her box room which in fact had been my bedroom for the last two weeks. She was my only friend and the only one who knew everything about me. But things such as what she just stated shows how she can still be so out of touch.

"No."

"Y/n. Think about it. Your life is at risk and as much as your dad hated the McLarens*, he would've hated you dying more." She attempted to reason, and she was right,. "And who gives a damn about your brother, do you not want to help McLaren in taking him down? He literally tried to kill you!" she exclaimed.

Rolling my eyes, "well no he didn't, just one of his goons."

"You trust too easily. Please just think about it, gorgeous. You're the strongest person i know but right now, you can not fight this battle alone." She sighed getting up from my bed, "love you, goodnight."

"Night Mands."

I don't need your help, but I think we can come to a mutual deal.

-y/n

Y/n, I knew you'd come round. Are you currently busy?

Yes i'm going to bed. I'll discuss terms tomorrow. Night.

————

Masterlist

A/N

*im using the car names as gang names as I'm just that uncreative!

[crimson-and-clover-1717]

Mother Teach, Ed, and Self-Determination CW: Emotive

I want to explore Ed’s mother in the red silk flashback, and its lasting impact on Ed.

Mother Teach begins with the imperative, ‘Feel it, boy’. There seems to be a certain lesson in showing Ed the thing he cannot have, before explaining the rich folk she works for own many items of this quality; so matter of fact as if it’s nature’s law.

When Ed asks in innocence the question, ‘Why can’t we have things like this?’ Mother Teach comes up against an alternate line of thinking which she seems never to have considered. She blinks in what could be surprise before giving what appears to be an obvious answer: ‘It’s up to God. He decides who gets what’. This establishes the idea that life is ‘not up to us’, but controlled by an external locus: God, providence, fate… ‘He decides’.

Mother Teach is conditioned to believe in determinism, and who can blame her. Her life is decided for her. What hope of agency for a poor, indigenous woman in a world run by a rich, white patriarchy? And it’s easier to attribute the decision to God, His unfathomable will. God is also likely and conveniently a rich, white man, so the issues blur somewhat in who is actually doing ‘the determining’; but frankly, the outcome is the same. It is safe to say God isn’t a poor, brown woman.

Ed carries this belief into his future life, struggling with agency, succumbing easily to manipulation; not having beautiful things despite acquiring riches, and giving up quickly in the face of setbacks. The second part of Mother Teach’s explanation, ‘We’re just not those kind of people’ further reinforces Ed’s class and race inferiority, which again he carries painfully into adulthood. These words are spoken with some emotion. We hear the shake in her voice as she acknowledges certain truths about the limitations of their existence.

The impact of his father on Ed’s psyche is largely plain in the cycles of abuse with older white men, but the transmission of generational trauma via Ed’s mother is also significant.

Mother Teach isn’t trying to be cruel. She clearly loves her son, and the silk is a love-token which she possibly took without permission so her child could have at least one chance to look upon and own a ‘beautiful thing’. But her own trauma means she further damages her son’s self-esteem during this interaction. She doesn’t want Ed to be a dreamer or believer in a better life. Best accept your lot, know your place, then you won’t be disappointed. There is a certain wisdom to it; and had she an average son with a dullish mind, it’s probably sound advice in this particular time and place.

But her son isn’t ordinary. He is a genius, an empath, a creative, as well as prone to overthinking and melancholy. His race foremost, and class also, are against him, and that is outside of his control; but everything else is up for grabs with someone as brilliant as Ed if he can find inner worth. He might always have to live within a subculture to find both success and happiness, but he may have done so sooner with a stronger internal locus of control, and belief in his own worth and agency, had he received a different message in childhood.

As it is, he lives a life in the shadows, emulating and enhancing further the toxic masculinity revered in the dominant culture which is so against his true nature. He uses his genius for strategy and theatre to enrich himself for protection and subsistence only, never going beyond and allowing luxury or beauty; and when finally world-weary and screaming for change, finds himself trapped by the ghosts of his childhood, some of whom are reshaped into new human forms.

One of many things which saddens me regarding Ed’s sacrifice in killing his father as an act of protecting his mother is I don’t feel it changed anything much. It was a micro action against a macro problem. If Ed possibly then ran away, his mother would’ve had to do what she always did: find another male protector, possibly a white man to enable a certain social standing, and she would likely be back within a similarly psychological and physically abusive situation. It isn’t inevitable this would happen to a woman in her situation, but it’s the most likely outcome because her choices are so limited. And that’s hugely tragic for both herself and Ed.

It’s often said for Ed, there’s a psychological affinity between Stede and Mother Teach. The rich, white man who is kind and optimistic is everything Ed’s mother could’ve been with those same sociological advantages. Stede is able to self-determine. He is a repressed gay man in a heteronormative society, but much of the world is built with his empowerment in mind, and he is able to take full advantage of that and change his path. Both Stede and Mother Teach love or loved Ed, and in an unequal world, one of them at least is able to model a different way of living; help push open the psychological door enough to allow Ed himself to begin to change his stars, and self-actualise as the person he truly is.

Writing this made me sob…I’m sorry if it does the same for you reading it

[battleangel]

A History of Violence

I wonder if Kris Jenkins who was recently drafted in the second round by the Bengals, same name & same position as his father who was a Pro Bowler who played 10 seasons for the Panthers, Patriots & Jets, ever bothered to read what his father told the New York Times in 2011 about what it was like playing in the trenches in the NFL?

Kris Jenkins - View of Life in the NFL Trenches

Article Excerpt

"N.F.L. fans, people outside, they have no clue what goes on. This isn’t like playing Madden. This isn’t like being the popular kid in high school. When you do those things in the real world, and it don’t work out, you still have your health. The thing about football is you’re directly playing with your life, the quality of it and the longevity of it. The stakes are up there.

You ever been in a car crash? Done bumper cars? You know when that hit catches you off guard and jolts you, and you’re like, what the hell? Football is like that. But 10 times worse. It’s hell."

Nothing is questioned, nothing is learned.

Cycle and history of violence from father to son continues.

The son will just repeat everything his father went through.

Life in the trenches, on the line.

His fathers New York Times article was only written 13 years ago — did his son even bother to read it?

Article:

"The debate about concussions wasn’t there yet. I’ve had more than 10, including college and the pros. Nobody cared. And that’s the thing. We play football."

Are we as an audience, as fans, as a nation of football loving fanatics so blasé about the same violence that was visited upon the father being visited upon his son?

Does that not even get us to collectively pause before checking pre-season match ups in preparation for Week 1 next month?

America's collective Christmas in September — footballs back!!!!!!!

Do actual thoughts ever creep in amongst the unbridled ebullience, enthusiasm and unchecked joy of, "Football!!!!!!!!!!!!".

Or is the unthinking emotion inherent in football fanaticism across all levels, players and non-players alike, the point?

The pure emotion and the short circuiting of logic.

Its probably not a great idea for me to go bash my head against that dudes head 70 to 80 times a game, every game, every season.

But, its football!!!!!!!!!

So, nothing else matters?

Unlike rules now protecting quarterbacks and other positions from helmet to helmet hits, absolutely nothing has changed for offensive & defensive linemen and running backs — you're still smashing yourself head first into a concrete wall — as a running back, 20 to 30 times a game and as a lineman, 70 to 80 times a game.

No matter how much the NFL lies about this and tries to pretend the issue is concussions, its not — the existential issue threatening the sport of football itself is the repetitive SUBconcussive head impacts involved in every blocking and tackling play in football.

They are absolutely unavoidable and occur literally over a thousand times every single season.

It is these repetitive subconcussive head impacts — average 1500 hits to the head per season in high school, football & the pros — that 10 to 15 years after their playing careers are over, can cause neurological disorders and conditions like CTE, Parkinsons disease, Alzheimers disease, ALS and dementia in former players.

We have seen the movie before.

Im pretty sure Will Smith was in it.

And even that movie was nothing but masterful subterfuge from the NFL as they named it as their eternal smokescreen — Concussion — instead of what actually turned Mike Websters brain into CTE mush — Repetitive Subconcussive Head Impacts.

Doesn't have the same Hollywood ring to it, does it?

But it doesn't make it any less true or the NFL any less deceptive.

The NFL's own disability paperwork for former players says players can be compensated as early as 36 for early-onset dementia.

Is a game really worth someone losing their literal mind at 36?

When do we question the every day violence inherent in every tackling and blocking play in football?

Article:

"I remember one game, at Carolina, my second year. We played Arizona, and the double team weighed 780 pounds combined. They just kept double-teaming me, hoping I would fold and cave in. I didn’t. But that was probably the most painful day I had.

From the double teams, over the years, I wore the left side of my body down. I was past hurt.

I was at the point of numb. Like my body was shutting down nervous systems, so I didn’t have to deal with pain.

The numbness started at the very beginning. I couldn’t feel part of both arms. I couldn’t feel part of both legs. It was worse on the left.

I’m just starting to get feeling back in my left side. Look, football is no joke.

But I’m going to say this much: somebody has to be the grunt. That’s why there’s no better position on the field than interior defensive line. Forget quarterbacks or specialists. They’ve got it easy. If we don’t come to play, nobody else on defense can do their job. We’ve got the toughest job on the field. We don’t care about our facial hair. We play a grimy position.

Piles, oh, my God, they’re brutal. I’ve had my ankles twisted. I’ve been bit. I’ve done stuff. I’ve tried to break guys’ elbows, pinching people, twisting ankles, trying to bend up their arms, pop an elbow out. Why? I had to fight back."

Tackle football is cognitive dissonance & constant dissociation.

The inherent violence of football is never seriously questioned nor is it held up under a critical lens.

The most violent, punishing plays are casually dismissed post-game by players waving their hands and saying, "It was just a football play."

Yeah — thats actually the exact problem.

Ah, pile ups. Just a good old fashioned rugby scrum.

Nothing dehumanizing, nothing to worry about.

As long as its not my dick being grabbed at the bottom of a pile as I dig my way through my second bag of Fritos Scoops, safe and secure on my couch, while those dumb fucks kill themselves for an oblong shaped ball for my entertainment.

Exploitative, much?

The spectacle of the pile up.

The brainwashing so clearly evident when grown adult men who would be ashamed to act this way publicly over anything else suddenly leap in unison into the air like feral animals as Troy Aikman shouts with unfettered glee, "The ball is loose!!!!!!".

So is our collective humanity in watching a several ton mass of flesh undulate, eye gouge, scrotum twist, bite, spit and hurt each other for...what?

Us? Them? Football?

Article:

"Mentally, we’re conditioned to be tough. We’re conditioned to feel no pain. The only injury I ever felt while playing was when one of my knees tore. That’s the only time I felt pain and was like, O.K., that hurt.

But Mondays, you wake up, and it’s hard to get out of bed. It hurts wherever you got hit. I remember one time getting hit by Edgerrin James. He put his head in my chest. I woke up, and I couldn’t even move, because it felt like my chest was going to collapse. It was sore for days. All you want to do is get the blood circulating.

Hot tub. Cold tub. Hot tub. Cold tub."

Hot tub. Cold tub. Hot tub. Cold tub.

That's brainwashing.

A dissociative brainwashing ritual to dissociate the self from the pain & violence of the game.

It's like Junior Seau when he referred to himself in third person when he was mic'd up for NFL Films before every single hit for the duration of an entire game.

Very creepy if you can find it on youtube.

It literally sounded like he was programming himself to hit, then he would hit the hole, collect himself on the ground and do it.

Hard. Goddamned hard.

Again. And again. And again. And again.

If thats not brainwashing, what is?

Article:

"The brain fog? It still hasn’t stopped. It feels like you’re punch-drunk, like someone hit you over the head. It’s like you knock yourself stupid. When you have to concentrate on things, then it becomes an issue. My head gets foggy to the point where I really can’t function."

And yet you put a helmet on your son's head and you sent him out to play the same position.

Like father, like son.

Just like fathers in the military who have sons who "follow in their footsteps".

Often, articles will speak of a newly drafted player's heritage and lineage in the sport and if his father had a storied career, the hyperbole of the newly drafted son "being born to play" is routinely trotted out.

Smacks of eugenicism, genetic determinism, militarism, rigid heirarchies, dynasties.

Capitalist masculine toxicity.

Article:

"We know it’s going to hurt. We know because pain in football is consistent over time. You’re still hurting in the off-season. You’re hurting when the next season starts.

I mean, guys play hurt, but it’s a choice. They do a pretty good job now, with all the scrutiny around concussions.

On the line, it’s still painful. By the end of the year, half an offensive line might be getting shots, draining fluid from their knees. Most stay away from cortisone now, because it’s degenerative.

Everything gets off center. Bulging disk. Herniated disk. For linemen, it starts in the lower back. Throws everything off."

What did Jason Kelce recently say on his podcast with his wife?

His back is so fucked up from playing football that he cant bend down to pick up his 1 year old daughter nor can he hold her while standing.

Kelce also played on the line as the center for the Eagles.

Is it worth it?

Should children be playing this game?

Should anyone in its current incarnation?

Has science shown that the risk of repetitive subconcussive head impacts causing neurological conditions & disorders is too high for any child to assume?

What about teenagers in high school who are legally minors and not adults?

Should they be able to assume risks as teenagers that can mentally incapacitate them later in life as soon as their 30s?

Potential suicide due to CTE in their 20s?

1500 hits per season every season starting in high school.

So, that's 6k hits to the head in four years of high school football.

Another 6k more hits to the head in four years of college football.

12k hits to the head before the pros not counting youth football prior to high school which is ages 5 to 14 aka Pop Warner.

Even 5 year olds endure on average 336 hits to the head every season in Pop Warner.

5 year olds!

Kindergartners!

Ask yourself where else you could hit a 5 year old child 336 times in the head over the course of a few months without being arrested and jailed?

Is it really okay just because it's football?

Does that truly justify that amount of head impacts to a 5 year old child?

Wouldn't we call that abuse if it was happening in the Boy Scouts or any organization other than Pop Warner?

Should it be happening at all?

In service of whom and for what?

Football? Glory? Masculinity? Manhood? America? Pride? Militarism?

All of the above?

Article:

"I can’t blame anybody for my death. I made the choice to play football. I made the choice to walk through the concussions. I could have stopped. I could have said, my head hurts. It was my choice, as a man."

But who told you that playing through permanent brain injuries is what makes you a man?

Can't we blame that person?

Your father and your coaches from youth, high school, college all the way to the pros?

Militaristic views of masculinity kills boys and young men for the game of football.

It's a militaristic war game that simulates combat yet kills people in slow motion for real.

The violence suffered by players in football is as celebrated as militaristic ideals of what soldiers suffer through in war: valor, courage under fire, physical courage, endurance, stoically fighting through unimaginable injuries & pain, the quarterback heroically leading his squad as their captain marching his troops down the field to victory just like any military commander complete with a chevron like system that awards stars for each year or season of service very similar to how stripes function in the military.

This militaristic ideal of masculinity is endlessly promoted, encouraged, rewarded and valorized in football just as it is in the military.

Football is Americas killing fields.

High school players — teenaged boys, not adult men — die every year playing football.

Over a million boys play high school football each year and only a handful die or suffer permanent, disabling and/or catastrophic injury.

Would you be so glib about the numbers though if it was your son or your brother or your boyfriend or your best friend who died playing high school football?

What if they were permanently paralyzed from the neck down playing college football?

It's easy to treat the above numbers as a statistic or rounding error when you can close out of the Facebook support page for the now dead or disabled high school or college player and get ready for Chiefs/Ravens next month.

What if you couldn't just X out of the Facebook page because you had to quit your job to take care of your disabled son for the rest of your life?

Or what if your brother killed himself from having CTE from playing college football?

The reality is, we can drop a "sad crying" emoji on a Facebook status and move on — the families of the young boys and men sacrificed to this sport definitely can't.

Go ask Tyler Sash's mom if she's "moved on".

Hasn't science proven at this point that tackle football just doesnt work the way it is currently played?

Why are we okay risking future Junior Seaus, Mike Websters, Justin Strelczyks, Phillip Adams, Tyler Hillinskis with every boy and young man that straps on the pads and helmet and charges on to the field?

Is it 10% of players that get CTE? Is it 20%?

Is it more? Is it half?

More than half?

The truth is we wont know until a CTE test is developed for living players.

Pop Warners Chief Medical Director is working with the FDA to develop the test as I type this.

Why do you think that is?

The NFL's own study funded through a university admits that NFL players are 19 times more likely than non-NFL players to develop neurological conditions and disorders.

19 times!!!!!

As long as its not your brain getting scrambled right?

And you can just sit there and watch the leagues reigning back to back MVP and reigning Super Bowl Champ slowly deteriorate their minds while accumulating permanent brain damage for your entertainment.

Pass the chips.

Article:

"We consider football a gladiator sport because we understand you’re going to get hurt. You’re putting your life on the line.

You might not die now, like in an old Roman arena, but 5, 10 years down the road, you could. You know that.

I wouldn’t change anything.

During my career, I kept my mouth shut. This now, speaking out, it’s about telling you my life. There’s no agenda, no vendetta. This is what football’s really like.

The first warning is the first meeting you have with an agent, when you realize this is real. My choices count at this point. I’m going to be prostituting myself for the next 18 years of my life.

That’s the first warning.

The next one is that good old combine.

That’s when you realize, when you march in that room half naked, I’m a number now."

No, thats when you realize that the NFL is MODERN DAY SLAVERY.

It's a modern day meat market.

6% of the US population is Black male. 75% of the NFL is Black.

0% of the owners are Black. Only 2 out of 32 coaches are Black.

Almost all of the NFL owners are white with very few exceptions and exactly none of them are Black.

The NFL is a modern day plantation.

Article:

"I loved New York. I loved playing there. I loved the spotlight. I was fine in New York, but I also played for Eric Mangini. We started 8-3, Brett Favre, all of that. Everybody told Mangini, stop with the long practices, you’re killing us. You practice too hard. We’re on turf."

36% of all injuries that occur in the NFL are due to turf & 1/4 of all concussions are a result of players heads slamming against turf.

So...

Why won't the NFL replace turf with grass in their stadiums as the NFLPA has been asking for for years?

Because they're cheap as hell and would rather injure their own investments then pay for grass.

The owners & the league have the same exact disregard and disdain for their own players.

The NFL has agreed to switch out turf for grass for the World Cup because the soccer players refused to do what NFL players are forced to — fuck their bodies up on turf.

It proves the NFL and owners could do it and, in fact, they did do it so they could host the World Cup in their football stadium — unless it's actually for the players in their own league.

In that case, you're shit out of luck.

Should have played soccer.

Article:

"What you hear from guys like Ray Lewis, James Harrison, what they’re saying is we’re well aware what we’re signing up for. The violence, we love it. The madness, we love it. We love measuring ourselves in it.

Those guys express themselves with their pads. You soften the game, you’re taking away their freedom of expression. Nobody wants to see flag football, and now, you might as well give guys flags, tell them to hug afterward, all that."

Did he even read the beginning of his own article???

Constant cognitive dissonance is the distillation & essence of tackle football — by the players, the audience, coaches, trainers, medical personnel, announce team, play by play, color, pre-game & post-game hosts, team & network journalists.

I see no repetitive head impacts causing CTE.

I hear no repetitive head impacts causing CTE.

I speak no repetitive head impacts causing CTE.

Article:

"The violence is what I remember. Like against Buffalo in 2009, when I had the game of my career. Or the time I slapped a lineman out of the way in Houston with one arm. Winning, the physical part, the mayhem, finding the line between insanity and sanity, that’s the exact reason why you play. That’s the reason fans like football in the first place.

A guy like James Harrison, he’s possessed, and that’s the guy you love to play with, love to watch. He doesn’t need to be babied."

Protection from permanent brain damage & trauma, fans bloodlust, coaches unreasonable demands, neurological disorders & conditions, neurological symptoms including suicidality, depression, memory loss, confusion, irritability, volatility, aggression, amnesia, mental incapicitation, deteroriation & decline is being "babied"??????????

Article:

"The N.F.L. is too big to fail. If that happened, it would be a slow death. It’s still the ultimate game. For us, it’s like legal prison rules. You have to protect your manhood, your well-being. You’re going to be challenged. You’re going to be tested."

"You have to protect your manhood."

Protect The Shield.

Brainwashed into the cult of American masculinity.

Just like all the other 2.6 million young boys & adolescents playing youth football.

Another million playing in high school.

100k playing in NCAA college football.

1600 play in the NFL.

All brainwashed into the cult of masculinity.

Millions of young boys and teenagers sacrificed on the altar of tackle football, Americas true religion.

Article:

"There aren’t too many places a 400-pound guy with an attitude can go and beat the crap out of somebody and not get locked up for it. I have a violent streak. I have to fight it out of my system. We signed up for it. All of it. We’re not trying to be sane or rational."

What does an 8 year old playing tackle football for Pop Warner sign up for?

Tradition, rigid authoritarianism, toxic masculinity, ideals of manhood worth sacrificing your body, mind, memories, personality, self and literal life for.

A 13 year old football player committed suicide after an egregious hit and post concussion symptoms that lasted for over a year in 2018.

He played through the hit and practiced in pads the very next day — think that might have made his concussion worse?

Prior to the hit, he was a straight A student, a voracious reader, erudite, sociable & well-liked.

After the hit, he became withdrawn.

He lost vision in one eye. He lost his balance frequently.

He was unable to read for more than a few minutes at a time.

He started tackle football at 9.

He played two ways as a linebacker and running back and was known as a ferocious hitter who never complained of pain.

He attempted suicide, was hospitalized, seemed to be improving, then the second suicide attempt was tragically successful.

Dead at 13 for the sport of football.

When is enough enough?

Football is a game, it's a magical talisman, it's a sport, it's a crucible, it's a maker of men, it's the distillation of manhood and masculinity, it's what being a man is.

It's worth bashing and battering your brains repeatedly.

It's worth your mind.

It's worth not knowing who you are at 50.

It's worth you committing suicide.

Just remember to shoot yourself in the chest so your brain can be donated and studied.

[lovelykhaleesiii]

Hello!! I was wondering if I may ask an aemond x reader request where his kid was getting bullied and then eventually gets hurt. And it can be modern aemond or not. Thank you !! Your writing is incredible !

Dad!Aemond does things to me, he’d be so protective of his bubs. I may have gotten carried away…

But thank you for your kind words anon x Hope you enjoy!

Lead by Example.

PAIRING: Modern!Aemond Targaryen x fem!Reader.

WORDS: 1,250.

WARNINGS: mention of bullying, fluff, swearing.

There was no doubt in your mind that your son was not okay. At the mere age of 7 years, you’d already noticed a palpable shift in his behaviour, from the happy, bright boy that he was to now isolating himself from the rest of the family. He had a tiresome, sad look on his face as the days wept by. You found that he’d stopped engaging with the toys that he so desperately would beg for your husband to buy, losing interest in his hobbies that he shared with Aemond and your eldest.

And you were not alone in observing this. Aemond and yourself, had been made aware of the bullying your youngest son had been enduring at school. The teachers had arranged for you both to come in a few weeks prior to the school, as you discussed the ongoing torment your poor son had been going through, which he rarely made a commotion of. Your son was much like his father in some ways, meek and quiet, he was too to himself, and would push away his emotions to the side as though they were nothing.

To your knowledge, you knew that Aemond also had a troubled childhood. Unable to fit in like most boys, he struggled with himself for a while, and always sought the approval of others, outdoing everyone, even himself at times. He did not take this lightly.

“Who are they?” Aemond snapped, his fists curling tightly as he tried to pace himself.

“They are boys just a year above Luke’s grade. We understand your concern, although you must know we are handling the situation currently. We are getting in touch with the boys’ parents to discuss certain consequences.”

“That’s not enough-” Aemond hissed.

“Let me chat with them,” He urged, you snapped your direction towards him glaring, as your hand reached over gently towards Aemond’s in an attempt to calm him.

He’d managed to catch your attention, as you pulled away from the evidence of your son’s torment. Terrible notes being passed around, degrading Luke and everything about him. Yes, he was smaller than an average boy of his age, and he was much more introverted and kinder than most. But these were qualities you clung to about your son, he was precious to you.

“Aemond please- The school will do what they can for now. Is there any possible way we could keep the boys separate from Luke. Just so he can ease himself back in?” You politely suggested.

“That would be a little too difficult, unfortunately. However, we can definitely urge the teachers on duty to keep an eye on Luke, to prevent anything from escalating or starting. In the meantime, we encourage you both to support him, we have a counsellor in the school if Luke wishes to talk to someone.”

****

“This isn’t good, Y/N… This isn’t enough.” Aemond uttered furiously, on the drive back home. By the stoic look on his face as you’d left the administration office, you knew he was far from satisfied of the school’s response to their son’s situation.

“Aemond, I know sweetheart-” Your hand reaches to caress his hair, as Aemond stiffens his grip on the wheel.

“But they’re on top of it. Once they get in touch with the other parents, repercussions will be laid. We just need to be there for Luke okay?”

He remained silent during the ride home, and you gave Aemond his space. This topic was delicate to him, as he too grew up with constant bullying. He was neve good enough, always pushed aside. No one should ever have to feel the neglect that he’d gone through, so you knew it pained him to know his own son was having a taste of the life he’d tried so desperately to erase.

****

“Aemond, please don’t freak out baby.”

“What? What’s wrong, are you okay? Are the kids okay?”

Despite your helpless warning, the panic set in Aemond’s tone. He’d just returned home from work, and you had the responsibility to tell him of an incident at school regarding Luke.

The phone call you’d received during day, made your heart sank like no other. “It seems Luke was caught up in a violent brawl on the school yard, he’s stable and settled right now in the nurses’ office, although he may have a broken nose. We urgently advise you or your husband to collect Luke, and seek medical attention.”

You hang up the phone without hesitation, and bolted.

As you hastily were directed to where Luke was crouching over the chair, his little, trembling hand gripping his bloodied nose.

“Mum!” He sniffled, his arms instinctively wrapping over you as he embraced you warmly.

“Oh baby, keep the pressure on your nose till the bleeding stops, okay.” You redirected his hand.

“My love, tell me what happened. We’re going to the doctors, you tell me everything.”

“We’ll be on top of this Y/N, rest assured those responsible for your son’s injury will be held greatly responsible and punished as befitting.”

You simply nodded and thanked the principal, before taking Luke’s bag over your shoulder, as your free hand held his shoulder, guiding him to the exit.

****

“Aemond, the doctor said he is fine. Not a broken nose, just some slight trauma that should heal in the next month. But please, don’t freak out okay.”

Aemond stormed past you, into the living room where Luke had been laying on the couch, mindlessly watching his favourite cartoon, where you told him to rest.

“Dad!” He yelled, trying to stand before Aemond stopped him.

“No, no you rest my boy. Who did this to you?” Aemond questioned, as his large hand cupped his son’s face, some bruising beginning to set against the skin of his tender nose. Luke looked up towards you carefully, trying to gather your approval of what to say.

“Aemond, it was the same boys. But please, the school are dealing with this as we speak-”

Aemond sprung back up, before turning towards you, an angry look on his face.

“Don’t give me that bullshit, Y/N. You really believe that?”

“Language, Aemond!” You hiss, turning your gaze from Luke to Aemond before gripping him to guide him into the hallway.

“Y/N, they’ve taken their time, and look what’s come of it. I’m going to speak to the parents myself. I’ll handle it how I see fit.”

“Really, Aemond? You think intimidating them will be the best way to go about this? What about the example you’re setting for our son?”

“That he can and should defend himself by any means, yes.”

You give him a defeated look, rolling your eyes.

“Look, I’ll speak to the principal to arrange an meeting with the other parents and we can express our concerns there. No need to escalate matters or do anything you’ll regret. Please, Aemond.”

Your hands remained gripped to his sides, your eyes widened to plea. You knew Aemond could never deny those doe eyes.

His hesitant “fine” would suffice.

“But I’m teaching him self defence, we’re putting him into a combat sport. No son of mine will ever be tormented like that again.”

You smile weakly, nodding your head in agreement. You knew Aemond’s intentions meant well, and you wanted Luke to gain some confidence. His father was an outstanding example of how well he turned out after what he’d endured and you knew the same was possible for Luke, so long as you remained a family.

[twistedwonderlandshenanigans]

Baby Photos HCs

You might need some context as these include some of my Family HCs if you wanna check them out ;)

Heartslaybul 

Riddle- Riddle is his mothers pride and joy. She has one or two photos from when he was a baby, but she keeps framed pictures of him from any time he received an award or exceeded the average for his age, with proof in his hands in the photo. They're displayed in the living room so guests can see them. 

Trey- I hc Trey with 11 siblings- despite that, his parents, (and his cool aunt) have managed to put together a full photo album of each kid from when they were little to their current age, but as for displaying them in the home? Nah, its just one family picture, and the Clover wedding photo. 

Cater- His mom has pictures of her and his two older sisters, but he doesn’t really have any baby photos. There are a few that his dad took, and that his...younger, older sister took, but they're on phones. Nothing is printed out. His dad did have a digital picture frame at one point though, but his mom kind of loaded it up with just pictures of her so he wouldn’t think about cheating again

Deuce- His mom wasn't able to print a whole lot of pictures, but I think that his mom has a really supportive older sister that's managed to get them a few really cute photos from when he was a kid. When he was maybe eight or nine (before his delinquent stage got bad) he was gifted a second hand polaroid and took some pictures of him and his mom, which his mom has stored somewhere safe.

Ace- most of his baby photos have his mom in them, and his dad doesn’t cope well with that, so they are locked away. Jack (his brother) took pictures of the two of them together whenever he could though, and his dad loves to see them on his phone.

Savanaclaw 

 Leona- he's in the background of a lot of Falena's photos. Falena tried to get him to take a few pictures with him, and a few of them turned out really cute, but only Falena really looks at them.          ****Cheka- he has quite a few professional pictures done, but my MC Vizzie loves babysitting him and thanks to Cater, takes great candid photos of the baby boy.

Ruggie- his grandma keeps her locket with a picture of the two of them when he was young, but its mostly stories she has to share than baby photos. There are a few, but they're kind of low quality. 

Jack- oh my god there's so many. His mom has a bunch in her room on her dresser. She makes makes her own calendars and has little pictures of all her kids on them. There are all sorts of pictures on the mantle. There are baby photos of each kid going up the stairs. Each kid, in their room, has a picture of them when they were like. Four, and with both their parents in it. 

Octavinelle 

Azul- he hates it. But those posed newborn baby photos? They are in plain sight. Luckily none of his older ones are bc his mom knows he doesn't want them up and 2 his Nonna says he looks too fuckin sad 

Tweels- They have all their school photos, but that's about it. Its now that they're older that their dad wants more pictures with his sons.

Scarabia 

 Kalim- He has a few, but most of them he's sitting in his dads lap with a bunch of his "aunties" around them and his mom. As the heir, he did get some photos, and every birthday, professionally done. But family priorities meant he didn’t really have any candid photos. 

Jamil- his parents were too busy attending to the Asim’s, he has one or two, and a few that Kalim may have insisted he get in on, but that's it. His sister has so many more. 

Pomefiore 

Vil - When it comes to personal photos, ones not meant for the media, he only has one. It's of him and his father at his mothers funeral. Nothing younger than that. Nothing older. Everything else is from professional photoshoots and movies. 

Rook - His parents also have a lot of photos, of their first hunt, the biggest fish they've caught, tandem hunts, etc. Has some Weird themed baby photos as well, but they like receiving pictures of their kids latest hunts and whatnot, has them pinned right up with all the taxidermy 

Epel - His grandma has them, but has them locked away as per his request after he came out as trans. She's supportive of him, and he understands she might hang onto those memories better if they're in picture form, but he doesn’t want people from school finding out before he's ready. (Harveston)

Ignihyde

Idia/Ortho- .This ones a little complicated. Long story short, yes, there are loads of pictures. No, nobody chooses to look at them.  Their mom has a couple physical copies of photos she adores, but she only looks at them when she’s struggling mentally. (Side note, totally believe his mom is the reason he’s obsessed with cats, and I think his dad hates cats but his mom and him and Ortho sometimes like to annoy their dad about it)

Diasomnia

Lilia - n/a 

Malleus, Silver, Sebek - Lilia has photos, he has "memory bubbles" to summon small "videos" recounting times when they were kids, but he doesn’t display them anywhere really.

----------- Masterlist

[violet-moonstone]

HTTYD Modern AU Ideas (Small Town + Cryptids)

I'm always a bit perplexed when the interpretation of modern day Hiccup is that he would be wealthy...yes his father is a chieftain, but he's the chieftain of a tiny, rugged island without luxuries, even for the ruling family. The Haddocks dress and live in the same quality of clothes/lodgings as everyone else, and Hiccup isn't treated better than his peers. In fact, I feel like him being Stoick's son only highlighted his inability to fit in during the first movie.

Anyway, there's very little status distinction going on in Berk past Stoick having more decision-making power. And pre-HTTYD 2, we don't see a large population on Berk or a focus on luxury or convenience (we can assume that this is because the period between HTTYD 1 and RTTE take place during and just after a state of constant war against the dragons.)

Keep in mind this is while there are contemporaneous cultures in the franchise (Like The Wingmaidens and the Defenders of the Wing) that make Berk look rustic and provincial in comparison. And for a real-life comparison, you can look at the wealthy kingdoms and empires that were flourishing elsewhere in the world at the same time as Europe's Viking Age/early middle ages.

Modern day Stoick to me is a community leader (frequently re-elected mayor, town manager, sheriff, etc) of a tiny middle-of-nowhere town. With the mayor option, Hiccup would certainly be well-off compared to many of his peers, but much closer to middle or upper-middle class. Apparently a mayor's salary can be dependent on how big the town/city is, so there's a good chance Stoick is making an average salary anyway. Either way, I think he would be so frugal that even if they had money, Hiccup wouldn't grow up knowing about it until his teens.

I'm thinking modern day Berk is either the Midwest (because a lot of people in the midwest have nordic ancestry and that would be a great way to represent the americanized viking vibe we get from the franchise) or the Northeast because those forests are haunted af and definitely where you'd find a downed dragon that is the offspring of lightning and death. Either way I'm putting it in the States, because the dragon riders are very clearly American teens (+1 Canadian) with a vaguely Viking aesthetic. Maybe the mascot of the local high school has something to do with Vikings (A Berserker? maybe Berk and Berserker Island are merged here so we can get the Berk Berserkers), so the town has a bit of a viking fascination.

also i think it would be fun if the dragons in the modern au were cryptids or aliens. Maybe instead of having a feud that lasted for several generations, it was more like a recent series of disturbances, which much of the town initially responds to with skepticism (like making fun of Hiccup for having a cyptid sighting and trying to catch them) and then ramps up to aggression when the cryptids/aliens make themselves unambiguously known. Bonus points if it takes place in the 80s. So not quite a modern AU I guess, but closer than the 800s.

[zwy01]

Noble OCs - Kravei

Making five OCs for every clan!

Adagio Riccardo Kravei: Pureblood. Entered eternal sleep, belonged to Gejutel’s generation.

Adagio was the father and predecessor of Roctis, and the older brother of Kronos Paradiso. He was a great Clan Leader but a terrible father. He was always on top of his duties and answered to his clan members’ needs. If the other Clan Leaders were involved, then he was committed. He was born for that role and his parents had high if not impossible expectations for him. And Adagio delivered flawlessly. He never complained, and viewed their unforgiving training regimen for him as his destiny. It was grueling, but he enjoyed every moment of it. He even reprimanded his parents at times because they didn’t give him enough work or discipline etc. Adagio managed to impress and pressure his predecessor with his extreme competence thus took over their Soul Weapon and title of Clan Leader at the young age of around 400 years old. He was more than ready and his predecessor saw no reason to delay his succession just because. Kravei clan members all agree that Adagio is their most excellent Clan Leader in the last who knows how many generations. He celebrated and smiled with his people for their success and milestones, and cried with them during their struggles. He was the strong, kind, and understanding leader and friend they needed. He could be Adagio the Magnificent or Adagio the down-to-earth fellow babysitter for the day depending on who he was with. The big Kravei family was glad that he wasn’t the Lord or something even if he had the qualities for one, because then he wouldn’t be their beloved Clan Leader. In their eyes, he was perfect. All but one were oblivious to his dark and cold side… his son and successor Roctis. Like how Adagio’s parents set near impossible expectations for him, he subjected Roctis to the same pressure.

Except Roctis was… average. He was diligent and hardworking but despite his honest efforts, he was lackluster in his father’s eyes. Adagio refused to believe that his heir had so-called limits because he himself was brilliant and unfortunately couldn’t relate to struggling. He accused Roctis for being “rebellious” and “lazy” and heavily punished him for it. After all, how could Roctis, the future Clan Leader, serve the Kravei well if he’s a failure? Adagio forced Roctis to kneel on spikes and whipped his hands, legs, and back. He wasn’t trying to be cruel out of malice, though. In fact, he dreaded each time he had to do such things to his son. He truly believed that he was doing the right thing to guide Roctis back “on the right track” and sobbed and wailed as he carried out the punishments. Roctis never showed much emotion as he endured said punishments and always apologized and promised how he’d work harder next time. Adagio himself applied healing potions on his son’s body after each time and again, wept as he did. Roctis comforted himself by convincing himself that this was just his father’s twisted love for him. And it was. Adagio was nice to Roctis in public, though. He only abused him behind closed doors so not even their closest servants had any idea. He didn’t do this because he was afraid of being branded as a cruel father, but because he was ashamed to let anyone know of Roctis’ incompetence. Plus, he believed he gave his son dignity by preventing witnesses. Roctis was determined that when he has children, he’ll never subject them to such torture and he’ll give them all the freedom they want. Well, we know how that goes. Adagio’s hobby was making and collecting fish hooks.

Gello Kravei: Non-pureblood. Alive in the present day, belongs to Gejutel’s generation.

Gello has done great deeds for humanity, especially women and children. She is passionate about it to this day and sees it as her life mission. She appreciates the ways of human life while simultaneously taken aback by the crimes humans commit. Generally, she has a neutral and positive-leaning opinion of them, but she’s aware of the horrors of human nature so she does her best to counter that on her part. Gello and her supernatural piranha friend Roti travel the world to perform safe and painless abortions for women in need. They’ve also built multiple hidden communities in different locations scattered throughout the world to take in women and children who have left their unsafe homes in search for a new place to stay. Gello’s many sisters run these communities and conceal them with their supernatural noble powers so they stay hidden from the rest of the world, especially from those who try to find the “missing persons”. Gello and Roti have helped countless individuals and families escape from abusive circumstances and will continue to do so for a long, long time. They may have even visited a certain snow werewolf matriarch in the mysterious snowy mountains for insight on how to run peaceful, tight-knit communities. One of Gello’s close childhood friends was her Clan Leader Adagio, who shed tears of overwhelming joy upon learning of her intentions to help humans. He offered to fund everything Gello and her sisters needed for running their communities and routinely asked them if they needed more despite always giving them way more than they can spend. Before Adagio entered eternal sleep, he left them a generous sum for their cause, and a public statement to his other clan members that they should all learn from Gello’s example and do good deeds for humanity. Gello’s hobby is shoemaking, if she has the time for that.

Sakina Nereida Kravei: Non-pureblood. Alive in the present day, belongs to Raskreia’s generation.

Sakina is the study buddy and playmate of Ignes. Her parents volunteered her for the position because they saw it as an opportunity for prestige. Sakina had no ambition for said prestige yet obliged to her parents’ wishes because they manipulated her into believing she was indebted to them for bringing her into existence. In reality, they had their daughter to satisfy their own desire to climb the social ladder. They did care for her, but any sort of superficial parental instinct would’ve gone out the window the moment she showed resistance towards their plans for her. Maybe her birth was even timed to match that of Ignes. Sakina’s parents pressured her into delivering a self-recommendation letter to Roctis. It was approved, and the two children were introduced to each other soon after. Sakina was neutral at first but gradually felt more uncanny as she caught glimpses of Ignes’ true nature from her abnormal behavior and remarks. Still, she stuck with Ignes because backing out wasn’t an option. More precisely, she didn’t have a home to return to and her parents probably would’ve strangled her if she called quits. Eventually, Sakina was won over. Perhaps Ignes helped her experience her first sense of purpose. Those rushes of excitement became an addiction and soon she was obsessed with Ignes. Her savior. Ignes could live without Sakina, but Sakina couldn’t live without Ignes.

Curiously, as unhinged as Ignes was, she treated her companion quite well. Sakina was set on repaying that “sincerity” and stepped in and offered herself when Ignes was being difficult. Although she detested pain, she willingly let Ignes experiment on her and was proud to be the Kravei heir’s first science project, in a sense. For a while, she was able to keep Ignes from hurting others by offering herself instead. Roctis’ response to Sakina’s efforts was thanking her, then telling her he looked forward to her future good work. This put immense pressure on her because she wasn’t sure about how long she could keep the ticking time bomb under control either. She did wonder why Roctis never put his foot down with his daughter for once and all but kept her mouth shut as she was in no position to comment on his parenting. As expected, Ignes eventually got bored of having her companion as her only test subject and went after other nobles. Sakina felt terrible witnessing it happen because she had promised Roctis she’d do her best to keep an eye on Ignes and prevent her from stepping out of line, yet it seemed like she could no longer deliver this promise. One day, Ignes asked her companion to join her. Sakina’s inner voice told her to refuse but her loyalty to Ignes was able to outweigh her morals, so she agreed to becoming an accomplice. When Roctis found out, he fired Sakina for “encouraging” Ignes to take the wrong path thus failing as a companion… even though the real guilty one was his own daughter, whom he did not punish. Sakina went into hiding after she was kicked out and a very nice Titus noticed and took in the distraught young woman and offered her a place to stay in his library tower. Titus continued to hide her from her clan’s sight and ignored Ignes when she went around looking to take back what’s hers. Otherwise, Ignes would’ve taken her ex-companion with her when she and Roctis left Lukedonia along with the other traitor nobles. Currently, Sakina is working in rehabilitation for troubled nobles, especially youngsters.

Jayashri Kravei: Pureblood. Alive in the present day, belongs to the Previous Lord’s generation.

Jayashri was born outside of Lukedonia as her parents loved to travel and their noble home was too small for them. Her parents found a deserted island, fell in love with it, and built their new home there… all far, far away from Lukedonia and its seemingly endless problems. The small family of three lived together happily and once Jayashri was a young adult, her parents started to travel again and asked if she’d like to come with them. She felt quite comfortable on their island and had no need to venture outside, so she said safe travels to her parents, hugged them tightly, waved, and went back inside. Jayashri’s time alone was happy and peaceful, and she befriended the local snake population, which was all she needed for company. Despite in a remote location, her deserted island was not completely out of reach from human explorers and whatnots. Every now and then, there’d be a shipwreck and Jayashri would rescue and nurse the humans back to health. She’d load their ships with food and water before they sail off. Interesting, some individuals decided to say goodbye to their exploration party in order to stay on the island with their savior. Perhaps they fell in love with her. Jayashri didn’t particularly care about humans, just that she’d like to not see any die in front of her. But, she was okay with pretending to love them back, for unknown reasons. The human lifespan is short after all. Maybe she thought she could be kind and help them experience a fulfilling life. They’d be dead in a few decades, so it wasn’t like a commitment of any sort to her and only a temporary effort. And so roughly every two or three centuries, Jayashri would act as a loving and caring partner to a human who genuinely loved her. Then, she’d bury them after they die and go back to living in solitude. Rinse and repeat. One day, her parents came back to their island and told her it was time for them to go home to Lukedonia for a while to visit their other family members, and they departed at once. Jayashri’s parents continued to travel after their family business was over while she herself decided to stay in Lukedonia because she liked it there. More importantly, she finds the love of her life. Jayashri is the partner of Eun Ru. Their kids are twins Dasik and Yakgwa Ru, and they are planning for a third. The deserted island is now their vacation home.

Casimir Kravei: Pureblood. Alive in the present day, belongs to the Previous Lord’s generation.

Casimir is quite an unusual fellow. He bears uncanny resemblance to Raizel’s brother, to the point where he actually looks more like him than Raizel who is his actual brother. In a nutshell, they’re kinda twins. He’s also Raizel’s brother’s friend, confidant, informant, and valet… and maybe even more. Who knows. Casimir is rather secretive about his personal life so people have little knowledge of him aside from his physical appearance, which in itself is a mystery. Mere coincidence? Good question. He isn’t remotely related to the noblesse yet they look identical and arguably indistinguishable if it weren’t for their different auras. That’s where it gets interesting. You see, Casimir is Raizel’s brother’s shadow. He follows him everywhere and tends to his needs. He can do paperwork and dirty work depending on what is needed of him. He is the first person Raizel’s brother sends to collect information on someone. Sometimes, he even presents himself as the noblesse and communicates and gives orders on his behalf, all possible thanks to a special noblesse aura imbued jewelry artifact given to him by none other than whom he serves. That’s how much trust the noblesse has in Casimir. The possible motives behind his loyalty are a mystery too. Casimir and Raizel’s brother have a daughter together named Crescentia Kravei who is just as mysterious as her fathers. Casimir’s fate is unclear after the noblesse’s execution, but he is alive and so is their daughter. In hindsight, the identity of the man Edian handed the bloodstone to back then is debatable. But, that can stay a mystery too because i don’t wanna keep writing this anymore

Thank you for reading! That is it! I’m finally done yay.

[fruchtfliege]

🫡🤍🐺

please I am in a Thiam craze and NEED this

...ask from this post...

🫡 - the caretaker

“I'm fine,” Theo groans.

“Do you know the story of the boy who cried wolf? You're like the opposite. You say I'm fine and I immediately start to worry,” Liam says with a bit of sass as he bites his nails and taps his foot on the clinic's floor.

Even Deaton grins at Liam's joke because he has to admit, it's not unjustified.

Theo rolls his eyes. “You got hit by the powder too. Why aren't you getting checked out?” he throws at Liam who's standing way too close to Deaton as he checks Theo's vitals.

At that, the vet stops and turns to frown at the beta.

“Well... I was gonna. I'm just waiting for my turn.” Liam blushes under both Theo's and Deaton's unconvinced looks. “And you hit your head pretty bad, what if you got a concussion or something!”

“I'm an invincible supernatural creature,” Theo reminds them with a groan, growing more grumpy and annoyed every second he stays on the examination table.

Deaton looks into the chimera’s eyes and raising three fingers. “How many fingers am I holding?”

“Six,” Theo answers, bored.

Deaton and Liam share a look.

“I'm joking!” Theo exclaims like that was obvious.

🤍 - first chimera!liam au

“Try and get his scent,” Stiles urges him. “Get anything?”

“Well, it's a mix of honey with a bit of sweat but it's not bad, it's actually-”

Stiles punches Theo's arm a bit harsher than necessary. “Not his actual scent! His emotional state. Chemosignals!”

“Oh,” Theo says, now a bit embarrassed.

Well, Theo hasn't been around Liam all that long but there's always some kind of low rage to his scent. Even when he's happy and smiling. So he disregards that, thinking that it must be more his scent than an actual emotion that he drags everywhere.

“He's sad.”

“Wow, in a cemetery? No way,” Stiles tells him sarcastically, still so impatient. “Don't tell me. It's grief.”

“It's not grief,” Theo tells him, not fazed by Stiles' attitude. “It's uh…” Theo is puzzled for a few seconds. He's not that bad at chemosignals usually. It's one of the only shifter things where he's pretty average. Which is a good thing. “It's resentment.”

Before he can add something else, he smells the rage in Liam's scent suddenly flare up and explode into the air. Theo is shocked by it even at this distance.

Liam starts kicking the dirt furiously in front of the tombstone. Both Stiles and Theo stay silent, speechless. Even from a distance, they can hear Liam sniffing and it's clear that he's crying, passing a sleeve over his face often.

A bit more controlled, Liam takes the flowers that were on the tombstone and puts them on the one next to it, not really caring as long as they're not for this particular person anymore. And then he leaves.

They wait until Liam is fully out of the cemetery before they approach the tombstone.

Raymond Dunbar

Loving son, father, and husband

1974 - 2005

Theo does the math in his mind. He died the year Liam first left town. Where there is bright and luscious grass everywhere else, Liam's father's tombstone is barely more than dirt with pathetic patches of dry grass. Liam must come here often to make sure there's never any green here.

🐺 - stuck as a wolf!theo au

“Alright, just one final thing! No matter what… we can't let Stiles know that we're going out!” Liam says quickly as he takes his backpack, ready to go.  

“Obviously.”

“Obviously,” Liam says again, nodding at Theo with relief. “Great!”

“Are you sure?” Mason stops their “exactlyyy” moment to ask. “Maybe it would be better to come forward and-”

“No!” Both Liam and Theo exclaim at the same time.

Mason isn’t the angry type. At best, he gets annoyed and then, a few minutes later, he somehow forgets about it. Liam has always been envious of that quality. That being said, it also means that, when Mason looks at him with that peeved look, Liam knows something is definitely bugging him. That light squinting is probably the equivalent of Liam getting his claws out and growling. So he thinks about it for a few seconds. 

“Maybe after the pack meeting,” Liam suggests, trying to find a compromise.

“Yeah, like in ten years,” Theo adds with a snort. 

Liam slaps his arm but, based on Theo’s puzzled “what?”, it seems the chimera didn’t spot Mason putting his foot down. 

Mason’s intense look lands on Theo and Liam knows he’s about to get it. 

“Didn’t take you for a romantic, Raeken, but ten years? Wow, you must love Liam a whole lot to picture yourself still with him in a decade.” 

Theo doesn’t move but his face gains just enough blush for Mason to be satisfied as he turns on his heels and heads for the door.

[evilfloralfoolery]

And here is Indigo's character profile! Again, under the cut because I fucking RAMBLE . . .

Name: Indigo Stargazer Solaris

Age: It's complicated

Star Sign: Virgo

Birthday: September 1

Partner: Grimm Amadis

Family: Astralis Solaris (father) and Aurora Stargazer (mother)

Appearance: 6' 1" (185-ish cm), slender but athletic build, pale skin, blue eyes, delicate, almost elven features. Long, wavy silver hair that reaches about mid-back. Sometimes wears glasses due to an old injury. Usually impeccably dressed, even when at leisure.

Weapon of choice: Daggers, an icy demeanor, traditional bow, and the occasional whip (you heard me lol).

Other Weapons: Able to summon "cold fire" at will. His fire is blue because it's actually freezing. Also skilled in hand-to-hand combat and various forms of martial arts.

Likes: Classical musical (especially Beethoven), the color blue, tea (especially green tea), solitude, playing the piano, the ocean, astronomy, cold weather, Thai food (especially if it's SUPER hot), blueberry scones, city life, well-written literature, proper etiquette, dressing well, diplomacy, Grimm's ass.

Dislikes: Uneducated opinions, improper grammar, crowds, bad manners, extreme extroversion, disorganization, dishonorable intentions, processed food, music that has no actual structure, sneakers or sandals.

Allergic to: Oleander, tree pollen (especially oak and pine), ragweed, fresh cut grass.

Sensitive to: Strong manmade scents, incense, cooking with too much spice, ginger.

Other Snzfucker Info: Indigo has extremely bad allergies at certain times of the year. It can vary from day to day with him. He's rarely ill, but when he is? He's down for the count for days. He usually runs himself into the ground until his body just says "Okay, fuck you, then." And it's too late. Indigo has a violent, sharp, throat-scraping sneeze sound. He has very little to no buildup and can be startling, if you're not prepared. He is a multiple sneezer with no set number or pattern. It can range from 3 to 7 on average. I wouldn't call him "rapid fire," but he does tend to do "back-to-back"' sneezes in a fittish quality. He couldn't stifle if his life depended on it.

History: Indigo grew up as the only child to High Fire Master Astralis Solaris and High Ice Master and healer Aurora Stargazer. Astralis was extremely strict with his son, emphasizing discipline, control, and emotional regulation above all else. Typically, the son inherits the abilities of the father, but Indigo has both his father's fire wielding ability and his mother's ice wielding one. The result is a type of "cold fire" that is basically unheard of. Indigo's fire burns, but it's a freezing burn, a bit like liquid nitrogen. Because of this, Indigo's abilities were "unstable" to a degree. Strong emotions could cause him to lose control and his father did his best to make sure that Indigo was in control at all times. Luckily, Indigo also inherited his mother's healing ability to some degree, so this has assisted him in keeping himself level. His mother would have preferred her son to be a sensitive healer rather than the demon hunter that he became, but Indigo needed an outlet for his abilities or it could have caused great distress for him in the future.

Indigo's people are not entirely human. They came from somewhere else, possibly another dimension or world. They age much, much slower than humans do, so Indigo will appear as he is now for several centuries. His people came to this world to rid it of demonic forces that have been infiltrating other worlds for centuries.

Indigo has a "human job" as a book editor as a sort of "cover" for himself. Because of his extreme abilities and his high level of efficiency for destroying demonic forces, he's quite the target.

Fun Facts: Indigo's name comes from his high level of intuitive ability that he inherited from his mother. It's the color of the "third eye." She "saw" who he was going to be before he was born.

-Indigo almost lost his vision during a fight with a powerful demonic force. His mother was able to heal him, but now and then, his vision blurs and he has special glasses to correct it. There is no reason for this. It just randomly happens.

-Indigo's family (and all of his people) are actually considered "royalty" and are quite well off.

-Indigo's abilities are so extreme, he needs a counterbalance to keep him stable. Typically, his people would choose this person, but after several failed attempts to have him bond with someone, they sort of gave up. Grimm, an actual human, was never part of the plan, but HERE WE ARE.

[krabkrab-wontshutup]

A Dove among Ravens

Aka I redesigned Dove Grayson, my old Magnus Chase oc!! His name is now Nastasiya, and he is still the son of Aphrodite, but is no longer the grandchild of loki. Also, ive never posted about him before, so heres a long ass list of all my notes about him!! Content warning for a very weird death, this is the riordanverse we’re talking about.

Full Name: Nastasiya Grayson

Gender: FtM

Family: [Mother] Aphrodite | [Father] George Grayson

Age: 16

Species: Demigod of Aphrodite

Affiliation: Valhalla

Residence: Floor 19

Weapons: Chain sword - A sword that, when you hit a button on the hilt, turns into a chain-bladed whip. Becomes a rose gold chain necklace when glamored. Designed by a hephaestus kid.

Status: Einherjar

----------

History: Nastasiya is the demigod son of the goddess Aphrodite and George Grayson, a passionate historian whose adventures took him across the globe. After being sent to camp half-blood two years prior, Nastasiya was killed at sixteen trying to defend a group of schoolchildren from a nemean lion, which had been mistakenly placed in a zoo.

Fatal Flaw: Pride

Physical Appearance: Nastasiya has fiery red hair, which cascades around his neck in soft ringlet curls. His eyes seem to shift in color with an almost magical quality, adding an air of mystery to his gaze and always matching his outfit. His soft skin is slightly tanned, and he’s absolutely covered in freckles. He wears a lot of light colors- whites, pinks, and beiges mostly. A rose gold chain, which becomes his sword when needed, is a consistent accessory, as rose gold is the only metal he incorporates into his style. He takes pride in his large hooked nose and is often seen sporting round rose gold glasses.

Personality: He possesses a flair for the dramatic, embodying the very essence of his mother’s aesthetic- Roses, Flowing silk, pearls, and perfection. His taste for the finer things in life is evident in everything he does. Like his father, Nastasiya is a romantic at heart; he often finds himself lost in poetic thoughts, expressing himself with an extensive vocabulary that captivates those around him.

----------

General Abilities: Poetry, Strange knack for identifying perfumes and colognes, Able to lie very well and can tell when other people are lying, never messes up nail polish when applying it, The god of vibe reading, Master of comebacks and witty remarks, Able to speak fluent french, Always gives the best advice he can (When he’s not hissing and telling people to kill their abusers)

Demigod Powers: Charmspeak, Emotion reading, Amokinesis, Communication with Aphrodite’s sacred animals (Doves, Sparrows, Swans, Dolphins), (After death) Blessing of Aphrodite (Never has to worry about his looks ever because favoritism), [He’s supposed to be more powerful than your average aphrodite kid because he’s kind of the favorite]

----------

CONCEPT: The first Greek demigod to enter Valhalla (That we know of). Idk i figured greek demigods die in battle all the time, why not consider if one of them was found by a valkyrie? Besides, it's not like demigods of aphrodite and demigods of freyja are all that different. My idea is that the runes misidentify his vibes as freyja vibes but he’s all like “Uh, that doesn’t sound right; I know my mom is Aphrodite.” Cue cup dropping because Greek demigods in valhalla?? Unheard of before now!

SUITE: The room has a table in the center and a circular bed in one corner, with a lace and pearl canopy curtain hanging around it and gorgeous plush blankets. There’s a tv stand on the side of the room opposite the bed, and a wall of books near the bed. One large, circular window sits at the back wall. It has two latches at the center, and curtains in the same style as the canopy bed. A picture frame sat on the window sill. The picture is of Nastasiya, Aphrodite, and George at seaworld for Nastasiya’s twelfth birthday - the only time Aphrodite ever visited. Next to the picture frame is a bag of pearlescent pink runes. The room is lit by candlelight, and the wall directly behind the bed has all the posters from his bunk at camp half blood, as well as a “Cabin 10” poster.

[goodqueenaly]

Hi! Do you think the average noblewoman gets any education concerning the actual governance of lands? Margaery, Catelyn and Rohanne Webber seemed well informed, but Cat and Rohanne were both considered heirs by their fathers. But, even if girls don’t inherit in their own right, they always stand the chance of being widowed and having to manage things for their kids. I feel like Sansa and Arya might too young for us to know what their full education would have been like at home. (TBC)

(Continuation) Cersei did not seem to think much of her education. Do you think it depends on the family?

As we see (albeit to a limited and mostly post facto extent) with Sansa and Arya, it’s not that aristocratic daughters are given no practical (for a feudal aristocrat, anyway) education whatsoever. Indeed, the expectation of such girls eventually overseeing the running of (marital) establishments is often there from the start; in her very first chapter in the series, for instance, Arya considers that she would be better at Sansa at “manag[ing] a household”, because “Sansa had never had much of a head for figures” (even wryly thinking that if Sansa “did marry Prince Joff, Arya hoped for his sake that he had a good steward”). Westerosi aristocratic daughters appear to be given much (though importantly, not all or the same - more on that in a second) of the education afforded to their brothers or other male relations: reading, writing, High Valyrian, history, heraldry, and arithmetic, to name the basic subjects. 

Where Westerosi aristocratic sons critically differ in their typical education, however, is in their access to training in both military skills and the daily business of governance. Because Westeros is both a military aristocracy and (directly relatedly, of course) a patriarchal and ableist society, the general expectation is that the ruling class will be comprised of able-bodied men who can lead armies in war and other martial ventures. While it’s not completely without precedent that a Westerosi noblewoman would lead her own troops or fight in battle, Westerosi aristocratic daughters are not generally going to be afforded this sort of training in the same way that their brothers or male relations would have it as part of the expected educational program. Consequently, Westerosi aristocratic women are not typically going to raised to be the wartime leaders that other Westerosi aristocrats usually expect from their ruling class.

Likewise, Westerosi aristocratic daughters may not typically be afforded the opportunity to have right-hand experience with their (typically male) ruling predecessors. Think of, say, Jon’s recognition that “Lord Eddard had often made Robb part of his councils back at Winterfell”, or Randyll Tarly’s desire to bring young Dickon when he, Randyll, went to pay homage to Lord Tyrell, or even Ned’s inclusion of Bran in the party that accompanied him to execute Gared (and, pointedly, Ned’s exclusion of Bran’s older sisters at the same event). Again, this is not to say it would be impossible for a lord (or lady) to include a daughter in these sort of events, but that sort of direct grooming for future wielding of power seems to be the exception rather than the rule with aristocratic ladies.  

And of course, education of any sort or level only goes so far in a patriarchal world. As Rohanne Webber sadly relates, the mere fact of a woman in charge of an aristocratic holding can encourage male rivals to undermine or pick away at her authority, in the belief that a woman would be too weak to assert herself. This doesn’t mean Westerosi aristocratic women are completely incapable of ruling in their own right, of course, but it does mean that women in Westeros have that much more difficult of a time asserting themselves in a world where - thanks to patriarchal expectations - they do not possessed the qualities assumed necessary for leadership. Even among fathers who recognize daughters as their heirs, there can be a sense in which they expect or want a male figure to rule with or through her: Selwyn Tarth tried three times to marry Brienne to aristocratic partners, after all, while Wyman Webber explicitly made Rohanne’s inheritance of Coldmoat conditional on her marrying within two years of his death. In a world where (outside Dorne) the expectation among the aristocratic classes is that power will flow from males, through males, to males, daughters are often raised to be not so much heirs in their own right but more as managers of male households and mothers of future male heirs (which was certainly true of Tywin's view of Cersei as well).

[kbagraces]

No Time to Die LN4

Lando Norris Mafia/Gang AU

As much as we try to suppress the stigma, strong women will continue to be perceived as intimidating until you learn to love them.

(This is a reinvented version of Flip a Switch, i just wanted to start it again, same plot new motivation!)

PART 1 Money Power Glory

Women are small. They should act naive, innocent and weak. That's what you were told. That's what i was still told. Mother said it's the most attractive thing a girl can be. My brother said it's the safest thing a girl can be. Daddy said it is the most stupid thing that i could be. 'Be strong', daddy said and to that i would reply with what my mother and brother had instilled into me. Anger would rise up, "You're a bright girl y/n, but you trust too easily. That'll do you no good if you follow in my footsteps."

I wanted to follow in his footsteps, i really did, but i was stuck in the contrasting beliefs of society and my father's expectations. I wanted to do him proud, he after all risked his life everyday to keep our family safe. But everyone else tells me i'm just a girl what can i do?

Daddy never got a real funeral, that's just the way it was for us kind of people. I think of him everyday, but no one dares to utter his name which leaves my mind to be his only place of rest. After he passed, my mother went AWOL, i haven't seen her in months. My brother is now mad with power, thinking that he can drag daddy's organisation from the pits it collapsed into. He is wrong. Daddy always said Keegan didn't have the ability to work in such a treacherous environment, but of course he never listened.

"Keegan, daddy wouldn't have wanted this. This is so far from how he'd organise things" I exclaimed, chasing after him down the halls of our family home. It was supposed to be an 'event' of sorts to celebrate my fathers life, too little too late i thought, Keegan never celebrated his life when he was actually alive. I was certain this was an attempt at gloating to his so called peers about his ever so important role, despite it being quite the contrary, he is only making things worse, which is literally impossible, but somehow not for Keegan.

"Just because you were dad's favourite does not mean that you know how to run this company, y/n. You're still a little girl. You know nothing. I learnt it all the day Dad bailed on us. Stop acting like he was a Saint, because, if you actually knew anything about how to run this, you would know he was far from it."

I wanted to fight back, but causing a scene was wrong, unnecessary and exactly what he wanted, and you would see me dead before I followed another man's orders, related or not.

The halls were starting to burst with people. The luxurious fabric of suits and gowns brushing against my bare arms as a turned from my brother and stormed away from his ignorance.

The corners of my mouth slightly turned upwards as i caught glimpses of those that i knew but not enough to allow them to want to stop for a conversation. The amount of people i didn't know however most certainly outweighed those that i did and that was how my brother worked. Quantity, not quality. All ego, no class, clarifying to me that this is in no way what my father would've wanted and is unfortunately all down to my brothers stupidity and selfishness.

The mafia is a dangerous place. Being the daughter of a previously feared leader does underpin you with some stereotypes. I, however, wasn't as conformist as the other girls that i knew. I wouldn't let the sleazy sons of other organisations tempt me into going against my family for a below average shag in the back of a stolen car. I'd like to think i had a little more class. As i looked disgustingly at the girls who were doing just that the mingling started as the sound of erratic jazz music drowned out the painfully boring conversations of controversy. Not even a week earlier most individuals were likely to have been literally at war.

I glanced across the room, my mothers 'friends' dotted around, judgemental scowls plastered across their faces. There we certainly some unusual and dangerous occurrences unfolding in front of me.

The jazz music cut off abruptly as my brother clambered on stage a few feeble looking goons following him in a pathetic attempt in looking intimidating, my hand instantly raising to my face in humiliation.

"Well, that's embarrassing." the presence beside me uttered into my ear. My eyes raising in the attempt to recognise who the husky voice came from. Empty eyes were starring into mine, looking as disappointed as i was at my brothers underwhelming speech that he's spluttering out. I hummed in agreement turning back to the mess unfolding in front of me.

"I'm Lando."

Lando.

I recognised his face, flashes of my fathers profiles flickered through my mind as i tried to put name and face to his crime. He once worked here, but was found to be a rat.

"I know." Rat.

His eyebrow raised along with the slight quiver of the corner of his lip. "Impressive, you really are your fathers daughter. Perhaps it should be you that is up there." He nodded towards the stage.

An unsettling feeling rushed through my body, pushing his shoulder i questioned, "what do you think you're doing here? Do you not have an inch of respect?"

"I-"

He was cut off as Keegan pinned me as the next victim of his embarrassing 'speech' if you could even label it that. "And there she is." His eyes dark, filled with hatred and a slur in his speech, he'd never have the balls to do this sober. "The attention seeker of the family. The reason that dad died. The reason that i was neglected as a child. My father never appreciated me, i was the one destined for this life. I worked so hard to make him proud but princess y/n/n always stole the limelight. Which is why, you're out sis." He spat.

I felt empty, shocked. Out?

A hand wrapped around my bicep dragging me through the crowds of people. My senses finally kicked in once i was out of the hall.

I shook off the grip, "get off me!" I yelled. One of brothers goons looking into my eyes. "Out." He stated, nodding his head towards the entrance of my home. I tilted my head in shock.

"No. Fuck you. This is my fucking house. Who do you think you are?" My arm swung for his face, knuckles connecting to his cheek with unexpected force, after the shock had escaped him he grabbed my arms, pinning me to the wall my face pressing onto the cool surface. I felt the barrel of a gun press into my skull. Fuck. "You just find it so easy to fuck things up don't you. Keegan didn't say kill you, but i do fancy seeing your brains splattered against this wall."

"Why because you think it'll make Keegan love you a little bit more. Aw so cute-," i heard the gun being cocked and then suddenly all of the pressure he held against me fled my body, bang.

Swinging round, I was expecting pain to hit my body, nothing came. There he was lying on the floor, Lando standing above him, gun in hand starring at the victim on the floor. Silence filled the corridor and the hall that i was just forced out of. "Out. Now." he glared at me, his eyes flickering to the entrance doors behind me.

We began walking towards the doors before the guest in hall, looked out in curiosity to see a dead boy on the floor, blood pouring from his head. "I didn't need your help." I demanded as we excited what was once my home.

A snort left his nose, "you know, some how i don't think that is true and you're welcome by the way." We reached his car, to which he nodded his head to.

"You're joking, right? You really are mad if you think i'm going anywhere with you, whether you saved my life or not, i do not want to be around you.", now it was my turn to laugh.

"So you admit that i saved your life?" I rolled my eyes and began to walk down the road.

"They'll be after you. We can help you." he shouted down the road.

"See you around, Norris." I yelled back. No way in Hell am giving him what he wants, at least not right away.

***

Keegan hadn't tried to find me, but opposing gangs had and although i can certainly fight my own in a 'normal' situation, when 8 groups of ruthless and revenge hungry men are after you it becomes hard to leave your house.

"You could just give Norris a bell." Mandi suggested. Sitting in her box room which in fact had been my bedroom for the last two weeks. She was my only friend and the only one who knew everything about me. But things such as what she just stated shows how she can still be so out of touch. She's not completely dumb, she now owns my fathers underground boxing ring, where we met when we were 17. My father took a liking to her, almost like a second daughter. Her and her family were estranged and my dad took her under his wing due to my rare adoring fondness of her.

"No."

"Y/n. Think about it. Your life is at risk and as much as your dad hated the McLarens*, he would've hated you dying more." She attempted to reason, and she was right,. "And who gives a damn about your brother, do you not want to help McLaren in taking him down? He literally tried to kill you!" she exclaimed.

Rolling my eyes, "well no he didn't, just one of his moronic boyfriends."

"You trust too easily. Please just think about it, gorgeous. You're the strongest person i know but right now, you can not fight this battle alone." She sighed getting up from my bed, "love you, goodnight."

"Night Mands."

I don't need your help, but I think we can come to a mutual deal - y/n

Y/n, I knew you'd come round. Are you busy?

Yes i'm going to bed. I'll discuss terms tomorrow. Night.

————

Masterlist

A/N

*im using the car names as gang names as I'm just that uncreative!

[wjehfshs]

Hello гайхалтай хүн! Wow! Never actually thought you would do my request but im very happy about it!! Could i ask for another request

So basically reader is ghosts son and reader is in middle school. Ghost is off on a mission and reader is at home when a zombie apocalypes happens and when ghost finally arrives at his house he finds the house in horrible condition, reader is no where to be found and ghost thinks that reader is dead. Fast forward to about 2 to 4 years and tf141 is searching for a place to stay and then price mentions a military base that was in a wooded area far from any town or city with high strong walls, so they were going there when a pack of wolves and dogs stop them and circle around them and they know that cant win this one bc for every one person theres 5 wolves but then a masked figure with a gun walks towards them and he is about to kill them when ghost says something and reader instantly recognizes ghosts voice, orders the wolves and dogs to stand down and goes "dad?" While taking off his mask, then the two share a hug and reader takes them to the base which was turned into a survival base and theres about 11 teens there that reader rescued and the base has a few animals such as cows, chickens, cats and ofcourse the dogs with clean running water and all of the teens have a job such as taking care of the animal, making defense weapons for when zombies come and farmers. Reader also became super cold and stoic and took in the role of leader, ordering the people around to make sure they all survive. And then a tornado was forming so reader goes into leader mode and immidiatly starts to tell the teens what to do and after the tornado passes (safely) reader and tf141 share some quality time together and reader bonds with his dad again?🥰

Again, thank you so much for doing my request!

I am very gratefull!!♡

Teen reader with dad Ghost during the zombie apocalypse

The zombie apocalypse, reader is traumatised, Ghost thinks reader is dead for a couple years, tornado, reader has a barn, gore mentions, blood mentions.

You where 13 at the time it all happened

Ghost, or as you called him “dad” was your father, he was a single father after your mother left for some other guy

You where happy with your dad, your averaged sized home and overall your life

Since Ghost was in the military he went on mission often, he cut down since you where born but he still went out on missions, I mean he had to make money somehow

You had some friends of you dad who would check up on you everyday and make sure you where safe and sound

One day, the day Simon was supposed to get back, you where walking home from school

It was dark outside since you stayed back in the library to finish an assignment

As soon as you unlocked the door you heard growling

You turned around and saw something that would haunt you forever

A grotesque looking man, looked like he was decaying, literally, with blood and bits of flesh dangling from his mouth as he stumbled/ran towards you

You dropped your bag in fear of the man

You immediately ran inside and locked the door

From your dads perspective he was in the car with the 141 when he saw it

The town around them was in chaos

Some buildings were aflame, some broken into, and some bordered up

But what stuck out the most was the disgusting, erratic people devouring others around them

His mind immediately switched to you, where you safe? Were where you? What if you got hurt?

“Turn this fuckin car around John we’re going to my place I need to see if [names] ok” Ghost said sternly

Price wasted no time turning the car around and speeding to your place

When they got there he was mortified to find a young looking person, most of their body torn to shreds except for their legs and arms, face not even there anymore

But what stood out to them was the bloody backpack… it was yours

He didn’t even have any time to grieve before Price yanked him back into the car and sped off back to the closest military base

3 years later, Ghost, Soap, Gaz and Price where all walking together in the forest in hopes of finding food

It had been 3 years since the zombie outbreak and 3 years since you had died

Simon became visibly colder, not caring about himself when fighting, feeding himself last, drinking last. It was like he didn’t care if he lived or died

That’s when they came across an abandoned military base in the woods

They had no fucking clue why it was there but decided to snoop anyways

As soon as they opened the door to the main area they heard a gun click

“Don’t fucking move. Drop all your gear” they heard a youngish voice say

They turned to see a teenager, looked to be around 16-18 but hard to tell since they had a mask on their face, holding a hunting rifle up at them

They did as they where told

Simon spoke up

“We’re not here for trouble we where just here to see if this place had any supplies, we’ll be outta your hair now.” He had his hands raised

That’s when the figure faltered. Pausing for a moment before lowering the gun

“…dad?” They heard them ask

The figure dropped their gun and pulled off their mask

Simon felt his heart jump

It was you, his beautiful child

You ran up to him and suffocated him with a hug

He pulled off his mask and hugged you tightly back

“Oh my god [name] I thought you where dead?!” He sobbed

Your reunion was short lived as another member of your team ran up to you

“We have a tornado forming on the east! We need to lock all the windows and doors now!” They basically yelled

You all sprung into action and after everything was set up and done you all formed back into a group

There where 11 other teenagers, ranging from what looked to be 14-19

You where at the front of the group

“Ok we can’t panic in a moment like this, don’t open any doors leading outside until we are completely sure it’s safe. If there’s someone outside who needs our help. Do not help them…” your voice was stern and loud, commanding even

You walked off and met up with your dad again

Before he could talk with you he looked over and saw a pack of 5 wolves all sitting together

“Bloody fuckin hell!” He stumbled back

“Oh don’t worry, they’re tame, they help us hunt.” You started to list of each of their names

“We also have some other animals in the other room, we made it into a makeshift barn!” You seemed almost excited, completely opposite of your demeanour 2 seconds ago

You lead the 141 to the other room, there was animals like cows, sheep, dogs, cats, chickens, a whole ass farm

“We also have running clean water!” You seemed so proud of yourself as you closed the barn door

Simon felt himself tear up “my strong child, I missed you so much I’m so happy to see you alive.” You where shocked for a moment before hugging him back tightly

“I missed you too dad” you smiled as you both cried together

Eventually the tornado passed and nothing was damaged

But the entire time you where catching up on the recent year, introducing each other to your team mates and you even showed him your modded military weapons you had

He was unbelievably proud of you and so so proud to be your father

[mothiir]

Honestly this Lion romance scenario would also be really strange to the Dark Angels.

Like imagine your father gets a personal serf, and yeah sure he’s busy so you don’t see why he shouldn’t, but for some reason he chooses to grab some scribe or diplomat and turn them into a serf instead. And while you don’t see why he couldn’t just promote a serf who works here already, you trust your dad’s judgement, maybe this person had some really serflike qualities or something.

But then it turns out that no, in fact this person makes for an absolutely terrible serf. At least from what you’ve seen, because your primarch keeps scolding them time and time again for not doing something right. And you maybe bring it up to him like “hey dad if this serf isn’t doing its job right then maybe we should replace it?” But he gets very angry and defensive about it so you never ask him that again.

But then one day you see him absolutely decimating a monster of some kind, all the while yelling at his serf to look closely at what he’s doing. And later you find out that this isn’t the first time he’s done that either, his room is now littered with trophies of beasts that he’s slain. Which confuses the fuck out of you, he’s doing all of this… for them?? And remember in this scenario you’re a space marine so romance is not your first thought, it’s probably not even in your top 10 thoughts about what’s going on. So in the end you come to the conclusion that your father: Lion El’Jonson, primarch of the dark angels, expert at strategy and martial prowess. Is beefing with an average baseline human.

And like a year later your primarch introduces that same serf to you and your brothers, and tells you that she’s your mom now. wtffff

It would be SO weird especially in the 30th millennium when the lion was at best a distant father and at worst rivaled the emperor for sheer levels of dickery. I don’t see the lion as the sort to make his lady an official legion mother - I think he’s more the sort to see his legion as belonging to him and him alone, and only he is fit to rule them. She is his companion, his attendant, and maybe - if he pulls his thumb out - his wife, but never his equal. That’s not a slight on her - no one is his equal.

The 41st millennium version would probably be a little less arrogant but also a little more protective- he’s leaving her with the watchers every time he goes off somewhere dangerous because he’s damned if he loses her like he loses caliban. His sons probably don’t see her all that often.

[animehouse-moe]

Kagura Bachi Chapter 1: Mission

At this point, I'm sure everybody's seen all the memes and jokes about Kagura Bachi. #1 New-Gen Shonen manga that's better than God himself, or whatever. A funny joke at times, but a little overdone.

Kagura Bachi would never live up to that hype, but it's also not a series that's going down the gutter right this second. It struggles, as a first time mangaka will, but at the very least has the potential to turn things around. So, let's take a look at this first chapter then and see what it can do.

The art. All the teaser images you've seen around make it look surprisingly good, and in some places it is. But the default? It's not really that good. It's not awful, but it's far from something you'll routinely comment on.

Simple designs, simple faces, and not a lot that changes about them. Honestly, I'd put it on the same level as the Fantasy Bishoujo manga that I talked about earlier, but even then I think the average quality of the art in Kagura Bachi can struggle to keep pace. Anyways, it certainly doesn't hold a candle to other recent SJ additions. Not awful to be at the bottom of the pack, but the art itself certainly isn't an immediate selling point for readers.

Diving further into the art and style, same-face is a real struggle with the shape and designs of characters. Eyebrows and pupil/iris shapes are some of the main ways the mangaka forces distinction between their characters. Truthfully, it's not something that's a deal breaker by any means, but just points to the struggles of an early on artist (though it's not like I can really say anything when I can't draw to save my life).

A more important issue however is the action. It's got solid layouts and ideas, but the choreography can feel.. plain. Not a bad thing, but you need art that can fill those gaps, that can provide pace and movement within. Kagura Bachi does not have the benefit of art that can help with that. And so, because of that, the action ends up stuff, and even lackluster.

Well, I suppose that's enough about the art, let's talk story.

... it's essentially on the same page as the art. Some good, some bad, lotta mediocre. Bog standard revenge plot meets unique but highly underutilized power system.

Chihiro is the son of a famous blacksmith, at some point his father dies and Chihiro is out for revenge against an organization of sorcerers that, we as readers assume, are the ones that killed his father. But Chihiro's just a boy, how could he go up against sorcerers? Well, he's got some special katanas from his departed father.

Very typical, no? Which I think is a shame, because the chapter deeply limits itself. It starts with the story stating that "only" Chihiro has magically imbued Katanas, but anyone with half a brain knows that as the series goes on, villains will wield similar katanas as well. To clarify, we know that Chihiro's father has made more than just the katanas that Chihiro has. The core of the gripe is that only Chihiro's father was able to create them, and that there's no information about how many there are or who might wield them (spoiler, it's gonna be all the bad guys).

The second, and more problematic issue is how the power system is approached. It separates sorcery from the katanas themselves, which is a painful mistake. The magic should be tied to the swords, it would make for a way better power system to explore. Swords vs magic has been done a thousand times over, so I'm just not thrilled to see its opportunity squandered.

That's not where it ends though. Despite being a magic sword, and despite readers knowing, thanks to earlier exposition, that it has the ability to "ward off evil", the manifestation of that ability is... to turn the sword black and slash people really hard.

I really can't get more disappointed than this. You lead with this super cool visual of the goldfish that the katana is imbued with, and you follow with a single slash. Not even a fancy one. Just a big, fat, shonen manga slash.

So, at the end of it all. There'll be an audience for this type of story, there always is. Violent revenge plot centered around black haired swordsman fighting non-sword wielding enemies. About as generic as you could make it, really. I just hope that the mangaka sees the potential that they wield and changes it up. Different schools centered around various imbued properties. Allowing Chihiro the use of sorcery to attempt to create his own blades. Distancing itself from the revenge plot. The art will undoubtedly grow and improve if the series is allowed to live, but in these early chapters.... well it's now or never for shifting the focus of the story. It has the ability to go the distance, but by the hand of the mangaka, the story is going down a path that will destroy its potential.