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

[beginnerblueglass]

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

[ophelieverse]

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

⊱ •There is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin

Daemon Targaryen x fem!reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

«Daemon.»she called for him breathlessly.

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

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

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

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

«How could I?You're a horrible man.»

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

«Maybe you're horrible too.»

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maybe she was horrible too.

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

Mother,Maiden,Crone.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Stranger.Stranger.Stranger.

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

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

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

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

«I’m sorry.»he says.

«Everything is alright.»she says back.

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

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

«Thank you,my prince.»Y/n whispered.

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

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

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

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

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

«I love you.»he says

«I love you too.»she says back.

[thelordofgifs]

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

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

-

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

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

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

Everyone went very quiet.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maedhros knew the answer to that, actually.

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

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

It had always been Maglor who had offered comfort.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[dark-night-hero]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[ⓒdark-night-hero] 2023°

[fairsexynasty]

—DIFFICULT THINGS

jamie tartt x lasso!reader

ONE. TOWNIE

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

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

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

——————

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

——

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So, how’s your mom?”

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

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

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

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

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

Yeah. This is the least I can do.

——

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

——

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[poindexters-labratory]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[beevean]

Something happened that lead me to think.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[my-rose-tinted-glasses]

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

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

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

Let me talk a little about episode 4.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[elirastudio]

Shadow king au- told you…

-

Sorry guys I’m too tired to draw tonight-

So I will write you a little piece that is the in between part of this comic ,where macaque and wukong make that friendly talk, and the comic where MK will free wukong.

Also I feel very lonely I’m like constantly waiting for someone to write me stuff 😂✨ don’t judge me is just that I love you all

Alright here we go

-

Xiaotian was washing his face on an attempt to forget everything wukong showed him during the training with his dad.

Did liu’er mihou, his dad, the monkey king, really did that and then seal away sun wukong?

He wasn’t sure, what he saw was absurd but he trusted wukong as much as he trusted his dad, they both have always been a key presence in his life; But Xiaotian knew, with a heavy heart, that his dad was actually hiding something and that something was 100% related to Sun Wukong.

Xiaotian sighed in defeat.

“Hey Bud! Why so down? I already apologized for scaring you back the-“ as he saw wukong reflection on the mirror Xiaotian jumped for the scare, finding himself sit on the floor, with his hand on his mouth to prevent any screaming. His father didn’t have to know…

Although He didn’t expect to be interrupted like this during his stream of consciousness.

“Woah! Sorry didn’t mean to scare you again bud.” Said wukong smiling as the boy painfully scratched his back “ I would give you a hand but…you know…” Xiaotian found this last words full of poison for some reason.

“Ow ow ow… don’t worry” the boy said quietly as he stood up again , but only when he looked at wukong again he noticed something about him, during all this years wukong presence was glorious, even when he stayed for short his form was always perfect; this time though…he looked really tired.

This immediately worried Xiaotian. was he hurt ? Is there something affecting his powers? He would have wanted to say something but he was immediately cut of by wukong himself “speaking of which bud… I really need you to remove the golden seal tonight.”

That was unexpected.

Yes wukong asked Xiaotian to remove the seal many times, guiding him, but for a reason or another he always failed; but this time the request seemed to have a different tone…

It sounded more like an order than a request.

“W-woah ! Tonight?! Like tonight tonight? I don’t know I don’t have a plan ready…I don’t-“

“XIAOTIAN!” The boy flinched “ you don’t understand. I REALLY NEED YOU to do it tonight” the boy never saw his old friend angry as he was now, maybe now that he thinks about he never saw the monkey angry at all… even when he failed to remove the seal, wukong never got angry, he would just say “you will get it next time…”

Why was this time different? Was it because…there won’t be a next time?

“Why tonight?” The boy asked making sure to not upset the monkey again, wukong smiled warmly, there it was the sun wukong that Xiaotian knew ; then he spoke “I’m sorry to tell you this like this… your father doesn’t want you anymore… he will send you away and I won’t be able to communicate with you anymore-“

“…what?!” The boy was stunned , then he started laughing nervously “my father will never abandon me. We are a family. He- he loves me!” “ apparently he doesn’t love you enough. But I do. I’m also your family.”

He didn’t want to be abandoned. He was happy, he didn’t want to be left alone

“He won’t leave me! He’s my father! And he won’t leave!” At this point he didn’t care if he was talking at loud, he needed to convince wukong… or maybe himself…

“ you will see….oh and bring my staff ” it was the last thing wukong said before leaving MK alone.

-

When the boy walked back in his room he found his dad sitting on his bed; And seeing Xiaotian, macaque immediately stood up, there was a few bag behind him.

“X-Xiaotian!” He was…nervous “dad?” Macaque approached his son , who took a few steps back before letting his father hug him.

Why did his room felt so empty? Some of his stuff was missing! The bags on the bed, were they-

“Son…” MK thoughts were interrupted once more “I think you will be good staying with pigsy for a while…” MK became pale. Wukong was right. The boy tried to get free from the hug, just causing macaque to hold him tighter “did I do something wrong?” It was a whisper but macaque heard it clearly, this was painful.

He didn’t want his star to feel wrong , macaque remembered that when the boy was younger he questioned himself about being unwanted, he couldn’t let him feel that again. But he had no choice his little star had already been under wukong influence for who knows how long… he can’t let his kid be under his control any longer.

“Nothing “ he looked at Xiaotian for a second, only to rest his head on the one of his kid “ is just that he really really needs you there… and I need to go in a very important place “.

Yes, guanyin needs to be warn

“You leave tonight “ at this words MK felt his legs giving up on his, he was sure that if he father wasn’t holding him, he would have fell on the floor; the kid slowly looked at the mirror that was in his room, Sun Wukong was in the reflection with a kind smile….

“Told you…”

MK nodded as he caress his dad’s six ears, just like when he was little and macaque would let him guess where he was keeping the staff.

“Alright I will do it…”

[hellogoodbye14]

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

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

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

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

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

She shuffled his dark hair.

“In a few days sweetheart.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But why?”

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

Nyx started to shake his head and abandoned his drawing.

“But… but how long? Till tomorrow?”

Rhys moved forward, cupping Nyx’s chin.

“A bit longer than that bud.”

“Three days then?”

This time Rhys winced and moved back.

“No buddy, more like a month.”

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

“Around thirty days, sweetheart.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He kneels down and cups Nyx’s wet cheeks.

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

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

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

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

“You’re my bestfriend too!”

Rhys offers him a little pinch on the side.

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

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

“I’ll miss you.“

Rhys caresses Nyx’s hair and hugs him tighter.

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

Nyx leans back and nods.

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

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

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

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

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

[liauditore]

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

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

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

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

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

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

it's been over a year now

i thought it was the end

but now i don't remember comfort

because what i am is what i'm not

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

find me a way out

if you love me at all

don't let me hear what they say

cuz i can't stand it every day

i'm thinking that i should leave now

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

it's killing my heart.

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

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

- 🔥

angst?? for me??? 🥺🥺👉👈

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[emptygclds]

‘ priscilla quintana, cis woman, she/her, 30/300, high fae ’ ― cauldron save you. it seems NEVA MORA has finally made it to the capital, the EMISSARY from THE NIGHT COURT is said to be PERCEPTIVE and is said to describe themselves with MOONLIGHT SHINING THROUGH HEAVY CLOUDS, FLOWERS GROWING BACK AS THORNS, STRUGGLING TO FIND THE RIGHT WORDS and with all of this in mind their DISTANT nature always seems to get them into trouble. may the mother hold them as they navigate this unthinkable time.

𝑮𝑬𝑵𝑬𝑹𝑨𝑳 full name : neva mora. nicknames : nothing she'd accept. pronouns: she/her. sexuality: bisexual.

𝑪𝑯𝑨𝑹𝑨𝑪𝑻𝑬𝑹 𝑰𝑵𝑺𝑷𝑰𝑹𝑨𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵 jung haein ( queen of tears ), evelyn hugo ( the seven husbands of evelyn hugo ) , shoko ieiri ( jjk ), cecily herondale ( the infernal devices )

𝑭𝑨𝑴𝑰𝑳𝒀 keir mora ( father whereabouts unknown ), esmeralda mora ( mother ), tba mora ( adopted sibling , wanted connection !!! )

𝑯𝑰𝑺𝑻𝑶𝑹𝒀 murder tw

the pristine image of the mora’s had been painted with a cold touch,  haunting the family and its members.  even neva,  still so young and supposed to be naive, grows up with it and it isn’t the cold that would make her shiver but warmth that she’d never get used to. neva spends most of her time alone, surrounded by grand halls and wasteful displays,  yet it seems that all that space barely offers any room for mistakes.  the moras not only expect a lot from their daughter but everything exceeding that.  it doesn’t matter that her mind is too fragile, crushing under expectations she has to prove that she’s worth bearing her name. neva doesn’t believe in miracles despite everything surrounding her . all of it was her own hard work driven by the shameful desire to leave her family, her life behind.  and perhaps that’s why the cold air surrounding her is almost suffocated by her pride. or she’s just another one who’d fallen victim to that damn pride of a mora. another doll painted on that perfect family portrait.  and that perfect facade would be passed to her,  a hint of pride gracing her father’s lip for the first time about his daughter being an emissary for the night court.  miracles still didn’t exist and only she could make them happen. perhaps love had to be earned and she finally managed to get it.  however, soon neva would learn that fate rarely changes and carried whispers could so easily break the illusion of impeccability.  her father vanished; leaving them with bloodied hands and a tarnished name, accused of murdering his best friend but more importantly to others a fae of high rank.  to this day,  she still doesn’t know about his whereabouts and even if she did, she wouldn’t search for him. after all, he has abandoned them and she’d do so, too. 

𝑴𝑰𝑺𝑪

she’s devoted to the night court and takes her responsibilities seriously. she knows that some people might talk behind her back and perhaps even believe that she helped her father, thus she’s even more determined to prove them wrong.   while neva doesn’  care about the gossip surrounding her,  she  tends to be a littl  vain sometimes.  she has quite an exaggerated beauty routine and love  pretty dresses. despite he  abilities, neva isn’t exactly beloved by the people  around her as she isn’t a particularly warm person.  she tends to be blunt and rarely sugarcoats anything. although vehemently denying  it,  neva likes romance.  she often asks her lady-in-waiting abou  any kind o  gossip regarding  romances within the court.

𝑾𝑨𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑫 𝑪𝑶𝑵𝑵𝑬𝑪𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵𝑺 anything angsty with a lot of drama pls <3 but also

the child(ren) of the person her father has murdered people at her court (or have to work with her) who absolutely cannot stand her people who suspect her of being as shady as her father a friend someone she has a soft spot for and is one of the few people she cares about childhood friends

ex betrothal: someone who broke the engagement off because of her father or maybe neva was the one who just ended it suddenly angsty exes, exes with lingering feelings whose relationship might have ended because neva didn't want to deal with her feelings and now they're in this very weird inbetween ?? something based on this post !!! or on this tiktok

anything your heart desires <3

[unknown-lifeform]

Sometimes I get randomly hit by the thought of how Angeal’s character is just straight up heartbreaking. Like the more you think about his whole life the more fucked up it becomes

We all remember how he grew up very poor, but like we never really mention how he was poor to the point of stealing apples to eat. He had almost nothing. A kid with a too big sword his dead father left behind and nothing else. Shinra was one hell of a propaganda machine, but aside from that, Shinra would actually feed their troops three meals a day and what not. Angeal had his own honor and ambitions plus Genesis’s ambitions on the side to push him, but like how much of a push was the idea that the army might have actually been a step up from what he had in Banora?

Now we all like to laugh at good old mother hen Angeal, but again. That’s kinda fucked. Because we’re talking about someone who joined the army in his early teens, and was already a commander by the time he was twenty or so. This is a kid who has had to become obscenely responsible when he was obscenely young, because he was literally responsible of other people’s lives when he was still a teenager. Not just subordinates, but his friends too. Genesis was always a self destructive mess, Angeal had every responsibility in the world and his idiot reckless buddy too. And then Zack! Angeal was raising a teenager when he was just barely not a teenager himself

Also the poor thing and the mother hen thing also tie together. Use brings wear, tear, and rust, that’s funny too, but Angeal had nothing in his childhood. Just the Buster Sword. It’s one of the few memories of his father, and in itself that would be enough to justify him not ever wanting to ruin it. But also there weren’t many guarantees that if he had gotten the sword damaged as a child he would have the money to do any kind of maintenance on it

You can’t tell me this man wasn’t powered by anxiety for most of his life. He disguised it well surely but Angeal’s inner monologue had to be a constant stream of everything that could go wrong and how to remain in control of a situation and how to protect the few things (people) he had and keep your best friend leashed and keep your pupil leashed and be a good commander and a good SOLDIER and-

Of course he ended up suicidal when CC went down! It wasn’t just the DNA thing, although discovering he wasn’t human had to already be a massive blow. Everything was going down fucking hill and he could do nothing to stop it. Genesis went out of control, Angeal himself had no guarantee he wouldn’t also start falling apart soon, and defecting meant abandoning Zack, who was Angeal’s reponsibility, so another source of guilt. Plus the father he probably had some level of idolization for turned out to not be his father after all, and his own mother killed herself when things started going down

It’s just. His whole life did more than fall apart. Trying to make the situation better was the only thing Angeal could have done for most of his life and now he couldn’t. Even admitting that he could accept himself whether human or monster, that’s only one issue. He failed. At least he did in his opinion, and it doesn’t matter if he had been asked far more than anyone his age should have. Dying was easier at that point than fixing everything

This guy was such a weirdo!! Guy who carries around a sword that weighs as much as he does but never uses it and makes dry jokes and has that terrible teenage boy stubble despite being twenty!!! He’s the responsible one because he’s got enough trauma for an entire town and his friend group includes a literature obsessed pyromaniac, a walking ice block with his own trauma pile, and a human golden retriever

This man deserved so much and needed as much therapy as Genesis and Sephiroth but all he could do was being the therapy for everyone else and in the end he just fucking crumbled

[lemonhemlock]

The situation is so strange, but it feels like some in the fandom want to find fault with Helaena once again. As already said before, they say, because of her, Baela and Rhaena did not get their lines or scenes (lol).

But there are those who literally scoff at the fact that no one believes her, calling her "useless", and dragging Daenys the Dreamer into this. People seriously blame her for the fact that no one believes in her cryptic phrases.

"Daenys is the dreamer that Helaena will never be."

Maybe because Daenys' father cared about it? He immediately ordered all their belongings and other shit to be packed up and dumped on Dragonstone. And what did Viserys do, besides how to cry because he is not a dreamer and he does not have dreams? Although he himself constantly spoke of the importance of Aegon the Conqueror's dream. Maybe because he did not pay any attention to younger children? He saw only Rhaenyra and all. And he continued to collect his Lego. And complain about how he will be remembered as a king, while he himself launched a mechanism to destroy his house.

Just someone did not read the myth about Cassandra. She also warned, but no one believed her. And what happened to Troy in the end?

In this case, anon, I assure you I have also received asks complaining about both Aemond's and Aegon's screen time coming at Baela's and Rhaena's expense. 😭

Anonymous asked: Gosh I knew someone would bring Aemond into the screentime/characters development issues of team black kids 😭 WHAT DID HE DO TO YALL! Daemon, Rhaenyra and bloody Viserys had hours of screentime, Viserys literally had many similar scenes that provided NOTHING TO THE PLOT OR TO THE CHARACTERS DEVELOPMENT HE WAS JUST ILL and they were showing his zombie-like body in detail (nobody asked for this) but Aemond with his ten minutes is a problem! Team black hates his guts but now team green has the same discourse lmaoooo not to mention he is a pretty big character but lets talk how Jace and Lucerys actually had more screentime than him because they were always in the shot with Rhaenyra while Aemond only had his short scenes

Anonymous asked: Well instead of showing Aegon masturbating or even the Larys foot fetish thing they could've added some meaningful scenes with Baela and Rhaena, for example. Why not complain about that? Instead we've got Team Black complaining over Helaena getting more characterization or over Aemond, which is understandable from their POV, but in his case some Greens are complaining as well. I guess many have started hating on him because of the Aemondwives & Ewanwives and I really get that but does anyone truly think it would've been better if they had made him a standard, generic villain from the get-go? Or if he suddenly becomes one after Storm's End, like some are already hoping in the name of book canon accuracy, with the writers having Aemond acting completely irrational and lashing out believing his family must hate him until his death and abandoning them, instead of a well thought, but gradual descent into madness or insanity? Anyway I hope the writers will do a good job and they will if they thread his story and characterization carefully. If that happens both his stans who think he's a dutiful Prince Charming woobifying everything about him AND his detractors who act like he's the Westerosi Hitler will be disappointed.

Poor Aegon only wanted to beat one out and you meanies want to take even that away from him?? I think he has even less screen time than Aemond. 😭 They could have added 5 minutes for each of Helaena, Baela and Rhaena without sacrificing trodger due diligence. ☠

[lenawin4]

now on ao3

just wanted to word vomit my feelings here t-7hrs or so before the finale drops...

drive you mad || the one where they had more time in the waiting room before Do-il was arrested (my brain was like I know he probably has an elaborate plan but like... what if he doesn’t and I make it angsty):

Do-il had tried to reach her: an unknown number, a note that never arrived in her hands. He had tried, and he wasn’t trying to fool her, like everyone else always did.

She was exhausted, angry, terrified, but this revelation brought hope and reassurance to her chest, rushing to her head like alcohol. If Choi Do-il was here, then he had a plan, and In-joo could think about everything she could do after all this. First, she wanted a drink, and she wanted it with him.

There were scratches and fading scars on the side of his face, near his cheek and on his neck. In-joo remembered the pink, peeling scabs on her face, the ache in her ribs, and the pounding fear in her chest after the accident. She had wandered around Singapore half-awake and awfully hell-bent on making a half-baked plan that would have been unnecessary if she had just stuck next to him. She had woken up with a sharp headache that felt like she was splitting in half, and he had given her aspirin after she ate the breakfast he had prepared for her.

Did anyone do that for him? She should have been there to make him food, to help him out of the car and wipe the blood off his face. He would have smiled and told her they were going to win this fight, and she would have believed him.

“Are you all right? Were you hurt badly?”

He shook his head. “I should be asking you that.”

“Me?” She looked away from him. If she looked closely at the concern, the undeniable care in his eyes, she would crack into pieces. “Won Sang-ah wasn’t going to harm me. She wanted to go after In-kyung and In-hye and my parents and — ”

“They’re all right. They’re going to be all right.”

“How do you know that?”

“I made sure of it.”

Despite the fear, despite the doubt, she chose to nod and lean into the certainty in his eyes. His father must be watching over them, ready to kill their enemies when necessary. Before Do-il came here, in between his car accident and today’s trial, there must have been details hammered out that she could not be privy to, due to the short amount of time they had to talk and the surveillance cameras in the room. His mother was probably on a deserted island, waiting for them to join her.

He looked exhausted, too, but mustered enough strength to tell her, “You’ve done well, In-joo-ssi. This will all be over soon.”

“But what about you?” she said. “Will you really be sent to prison, too? You’ll be safe, right?” He gave her a thin smile, and although everything else he said had comforted her, this smile felt incriminating and wretched. It drained her, left her feeling cold and miserable and afraid. “Choi Do-il, don’t tell me…”

The door opened. “Time’s up.”

“I’ll be fine,” he promised, and left the room.

Accidents in prison. A suicide, easy to fake. A stabbing, common among inmates. A list of scenarios grew and grew, and in each potential murder, a single blue orchid would be found in Choi Do-il’s cold, rigid hands. In-joo found it increasingly difficult to breathe as she was led out the door.

She did not often consider her siblings a duty, and they were not burdens to her, but all her life, she was Oh In-joo: oldest sister and provider for the family. Oh In-joo, who raised In-kyung and In-hye with barely any help from their mother. She had always wanted someone to tell her that they would take care of her, that she would be provided for, that they would take the responsibilities away and let her live freely. She had looked for that person in Hwa-young. But this man, who had every reason and opportunity to steal from her and abandon her to the wolves he was raised by, told her again and again that he would take care of everything and keep her safe. He kept his promises, and because of them, he was getting arrested, leaving him too vulnerable to Won Sang-ah’s attacks.

Steel handcuffs snapped around his wrists, and they read him his rights. He turned to look at her, an unreadable expression on his face, as if to say detachedly, “I tried my best to come up with a better plan. But I couldn’t, so I just came.”

Do-il turned around. They led him away. She watched until he was out of sight and her own guards brought her back to the prison transport, dread pooling in her stomach all the way back.

Hadn’t he told her money was the most sacred thing in the world? Didn’t he know he was risking his life, not for someone’s money, but for her? And if the reason why he was risking himself was the same reason why In-joo held her breath when he was out of her sight, or why In-joo looked to him for help in every situation, then she needed to know. She needed to tell him.

Choi Do-il. In-joo wanted to laugh. She didn’t expect to fall for another man who needed money and deception to live in this world. But the way he looked when he stormed into the hospital with smoke bombs and an axe, and the way he held her as she thought she was dying and babbled out nonsense — it drove her mad.

She needed to break the tension around them. She needed him safe and alive with the rest of their families, and then they could get that drink together. They could meet at a bar and discuss the details of their next moves, but instead of taking down a powerful organization, they could talk about his time in the United States or what it was like before he was sent abroad or what they could do in Greece that day. They could take care of In-hye and Hyo-rin together and applaud In-kyung’s blooming career. They could visit his parents in a safehouse, or they could visit her parents wherever they had decided to run away to.

There was still hope. Do-il had a plan. He always did, no matter what, and if that plan involved risking their lives, then she would trust that he planned on coming back to her. Then they would tell each other what they both needed to: I trust you, I want you, I want to run away with you. It would be a confession outside the courtroom, and it would be perfect. She fell asleep in her cell, comforted and hopeful, and dreamt of ways to destroy Won Sang-ah and the rest of the Jeongran Society.

[cookiecat07]

My au

So i feel like an explanation is needed just in case.

Basically

My reginald was an orphan and was adopted by I think his name is Reynold. Or 'The brute' and terrance killed him making reginald mad and later on got revenge for his father, reginald killed terrance with RHM (who I'll explain in a sec).

My RHM was born a girl (he's trans) and his uncle was right hand man to reginald's adopted father. RHM hated being a girl so decided he wanted to be a male. He cut his hair wore masculine clothes. Yeah. I think you get it. RHM's uncle died to the government and RHM became Right Hand Man (RHM was terrance right hand man at a young age, but obviously fought against him as reginald was his best friend) RHM voted reginald as leader and so did the others.

Sven svenson was abandoned on the streets and reginald adopted him with RHM (reginald and rhm have a close relationship, it's like dating kinda but it's not official, yet) and sven grew up with reginald and RHM hence why he's a high ranking member. And the next leader after Reginald and RHM.

Burt Curtis was born in the toppat clan.His parent hid burt from the clan so burt didn't really know how to properly show his emotions one day RHM (who absolutely hated the Curtis family due to a reason) killed his parents out of anger, RHM discovered Burt. Burt hated RHM at first but then realised it was good as his parent were actually neglecting him. RHM along with reginald also helped Burt although they didn't adopt him as he had an older sister who did most of the work with burt. She unfortunately died making burt really sad although he was a young adult. (she died of cancer) burt then became a communication 'manager/leader' or whatever he is in the clan and basically he has emotions but only anger and sadness. As he never really learnt any other emotions.

Ellie rose was born into a theif family and she always wanted to become the best theif in the world. She did many great heist with her family and their gang but one day she got separated as her family got caught and the gang ran away to another country. Ellie continued her stealing until she became 'most wanted' one day she got caught and locked up in the wall. Meeting henry stickmin. And yeah I think you know the rest.

Henry stickmin was born into a poor but loving family. He had a happy childhood. He also has a younger brother (Evan). Although once he became 15 everything changed. His mother was killed when coming home form work. The father found out and was very sad. (I know you've probably heard this a million times) but yes his father went to acohol although he wasn't abusive. One day he committed suicide when henry was 19. Due to Henry's (kinda) young age his brother got tooken to another family and henry ran away to another city. He found a scruffy apartment and became fascinated with stealing and diamonds and all that. Then it basically just starts from the Robbing the bank or whatever it's called in thsc

Charles Calvin also had a loving family. Until his little sister was born who was a complete brat and she faked like being hurt and yeah all that. He got sent to the army at a young age. Sir General hubert had a son who died in an accident and Charles reminded him of his son so general adopted him. Charles and Rupert Price were like siblings growing up although Rupert wasn't adopted by general. And he grew up and Charles was fascinated by the helicopters and all that and he basically did a bunch of training and stuff and became a government pilot. Rupert became a soldier. Charles was always giddy and happy and stuff like that. Then obviously one day he met henry. Again. You know what a happens next I'm sure. Also the triple threat are dating. Sorta. It's official but they're all nervous about it. (idk)

If there's anyone else you want to know about in my Au just ask me. And don't be afraid to ask about my gemstone cat hybrid things. Or any other au's I may have about thsc