#in a better world. he taught me to shave and how to drive

[fairyofsilence]

0. NAMJOON'S PROLOGUE | OBSESSION SERIES |

Pairings: Yandere!Namjoon x Reader, Yandere!Jungkook x Reader

Word count: 3.3 k

This is part of the obsession series, you can find my main masterlist here.

Warnings (for this chapter): Obssesive beheaviour, toxic relationships, abuse of power over a romantic partner, cursing, slut shaming, mentions of past sex work, mysoginy, manipulation, possessiveness, mentions of death, Namjoon has questionable thoughs, he also has somewhat of a savior complex (yikes).

I don't agree nor condone any of the actions made by any of the characters throughout the story, I also do not belive that any of the members of BTS would act this way or have this type of behaviour, this story it's fiction and it's written with the sole purpose of entertainment, please proceed with caution.

Summary: Your husband adores you and he would do anything for you, but little do you know, so will the man who's watching you from the shadows.

A/N: Hello dear reader, there's a few things that I would like to make clear before you start reading: This prologue it's more of an introduction of the relatonship Namjoon and the reader have before the story begins (since the story focuses more on their 'strong' marrige) and to understand Namjoon's character a little bit more, the way he sees things and how he acts, I didn't want this story to begin with anyone thinking he's a good guy (He's really good at hiding his yandere tendencies from the mc, please beware, this man is clearly delusional). Pretty sure there's some spelling errors on this, but I wanted to post this before finishing the semester (the way I should be studying for my chemistry exam instead of writting), I'll try to edit this before the weekend, this is my first time publishing my work here on tumblr, so any feedback would be appriciated by me, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy this story. [EDITED ON 23/05/2022]

Even before he was born, Kim Namjoon was expected to be perfect.

The perfect son, the perfect student, and the perfect leader.

He has always been a calm and collected person, even as a baby, he would never cry unless he was hungry. As a child he would stand out from other students with how smart he already was at such an early age, he was independent and quickly learned how to do things himself, always kept himself in check and tried his hardest to never disappoint his father, not like his brother had anyway.

His unstable older brother who, in his father's words, "was a terrible lost cause". Because in the end, that is what his children were for, keeping a legacy, his pawns to make his empire grow further.

Unlike his father, Namjoon respects and admires his brother a lot, he always thought he was brave, rebelling against their father on how he "wouldn't run his shitty company for all the money in the world", he knows better than disrespect their father, but he can't lie and say he doesn't care about him, after all, he was the only person who was there for everything.

He was the one to drive him to his first day of school, he taught him how to tie his shoes, how to shave, how to drive, how to be a man.

Namjoon knew he could expect everything from his parents except their love and support, his mother was never gentle or caring for either of them, she only tolerates them at the very best, no one was shocked about this, his mother was by his father's side to look flawless and provide children, anything else was just a bonus, and his father was just there, always in the picture but never present, but Jin was always present.

The only memory he holds dearly relating to his family is when he graduated middle school. Although he graduated first of his class, Namjoon wasn't expecting anyone to come to his graduation, but after he received his diploma, he looked up to the crowd and there he was, Kim Seokjin holding a bouquet of flowers and right by his side was a smiling Yeri, their housekeeper and practically their mother, that was perhaps the first time in his life that Namjoon felt true happiness. After the ceremony, both Jin and Yeri alongside Hanseo, who was their driver at the time, took him back home where they decorated the dining room and Yeri made the best dinner he’s ever had, it was probably happiness what made the food taste so good, he wasn't sure, either way, Namjoon would never forget about the way he felt that day.

He became addicted, trying all kinds of stuff to feel something similar or even better, and it wasn’t long until he found something to fulfill his addiction.

Or well, someone.

You both met in High School.

Namjoon had a small circle of friends since middle school, but Hoseok was the one who stayed by his side ever since they met when they were kids, even if he's a little wild and unpredictable (just like his brother), Namjoon knows he can trust Hoseok with his life.

"The new girl is looking at you" Hoseok said with a teasing tone, Namjoon slowly turned around to look for you in your usual spot, but you quickly looked down at your feet before he could catch you staring at him, so adorable, he thought.

The first time he saw you, Namjoon swears he heard an angel sing.

He froze, time just seemed to stop, he was mesmerized by you, the tone of your voice, your cute facial expression, how shy you were, everything about you seemed perfect to him.

"Hello everyone, my name is Y/N, it's a pleasure to meet you" A smile adorned your face as you introduced yourself in front of the class, too many pairs of curious eyes watching you had you gripping the edge of your school skirt and he just thought you were adorable, it was that moment where his infatuation had begun.

Since Namjoon is part of wealthy family, it was expected that he attended the most prestigious schools in the country, where everyone (even if they don't speak to one another) knew each other, their background, their families companies, where they lived, so when a new face comes, you cannot expect a bunch of teenagers not to be curious about it.

News spread fast in this school, so it wasn’t unexpected that in the span of a single day, everything there was to be known about you, was now common information for the entire school.

Y/N Y/L/N, an only child from a single mother, never knew who her father was until her mother finally made him recognize her as a legitimate child, none other than Lee Jungwoo, one of his father’s most valuable associates and one of his closest friends. Even though you have your father's last name at your disposal now, you refused to use it, preferring to keep your mother's last name instead. The most scandalous thing out of this was not only the fact that you were a product of an infidelity, but the fact that your mother used to be a prostitute as well.

At the unexpected background and considering that Lee's two other sons were attending the same school, gossip spread around like never before, people avoided you like a plague, you, the cutest thing Namjoon has ever seen, he has never felt angrier in his life, later followed by a sense of tranquility, because if no one saw your potential, that means he can have you all by himself. But there was one big problem, he is way too shy to approach you. It’s not like you’re going to turn him down (he knows you look at him as much as he looks at you, as if he wouldn’t notice), he just doesn’t know how to speak to you directly without stuttering and sweating so damn much, even though he’s been practicing in front of the mirror for days on how he’s going to talk to you. He would prefer a painful death before you think that he is not worth talking to, it had to be the perfect interaction, where you should realize that you needed him as much as he needed you.

Much to his delight, you are the one to approach him first.

“Hi” You were so afraid to talk to him he felt horrible, he’ll make sure to give hell to everyone who has given you the side eye ever since everyone found out about your upbringing, which was pretty much everyone at school “I’m really sorry about this, and it’s okay if you don’t want to, but the teacher said that you are the one who has all the notes since the beginning of the semester and since I’m kind of far behind I would really appreciate if you could-” Namjoon didn’t even think about anything first before handing her his notebook with complete heart eyes, she let a tiny gasp before giggling and he felt his heart beat a little faster for being the reason of her laugh.

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t…” Shut up, you’re embarrassing yourself right now, get it together “Of course you can, and if you have some questions I can explain everything to you”He smiled at you and almost instantly your face was burning from how flustered you got over a single smile, stop being pathetic, you told yourself while trying to stay calm, he’s only being nice, don’t screw things up, you returned the smile and while holding his notebook and answered “I would appreciate that a lot”.

After setting up a  “study” date at the library, Namjoon couldn't believe how easy it actually was to make you feel comfortable with him, both of you spent the entire afternoon just getting to know each other, barely getting any work done, the staff even had to throw you out of the library, so wrapped up in your conversation you hadn’t realized everyone had left already, he noticed how your mood dropped after exiting the library, and decided that now was the perfect chance to ask you out. He invited you to have dinner with him and you accepted before he could even finish his invitation, making both of you laugh and nervously stare at each other, those pure, innocent eyes starting at him like he was God himself, Namjoon didn’t have a single doubt at that point, you were made for him, and you were going to be his, forever.

After your first date, Namjoon had set himself a new life goal: keeping you by his side until your last breath, a goal that seemed to be difficult after getting a glimpse of your personality.

Namjoon is a smart man, he knew that no matter how much he needed and wanted to keep her locked in a cage, he knew Y/N was not the type of person that you own, such a stubborn girl you are, he had to be careful in the way he slowly but surely started to take control over you. It was a long and thought-out process, he had planned every step and action he made towards you, everything is easy when you just plant the seed, because all you need to do is water it afterwards, the more he got to know about you, the easier it became to know what sensitive spots he could take advantage on.

It started in a very subtle way, back when you first started dating in high school.

If there’s something thing that needs to be known about Namjoon is that he always seems to know what to say and how to say it, so it wasn’t shocking to him how easy you started to fall for his backhanded comments.

"This hairstyle suits you so well my love, I can't believe you look even more beautiful that you do every day" It only took a few comments like this for you subconsciously started to change the way you did your hair, desperately seeking for his approval, and he made sure to only compliment you when you styled it the way he wanted, a youthful yet not childish style, perfectly fitting for your age back then, he isn’t trying to change who you are, God no, he loved you just the way you are, he’s just adding upgrades to your already perfect self,  you needed to be guided into the right direction and who's  better than him to do that? Nobody knows you like he does anyway, not even yourself.

“Your makeup looks beautiful tonight darling” He forced a perfect smile while inspecting at your face, that’s way too much makeup for a girl your age, this was not appropriate at all, of course, it was only a high school party you both were attending, but you were going to be his wife in a couple of years, you had an image to maintain now, you were supposed to be a classy woman, and that kind of woman doesn’t go around wearing that lipstick shade and such dark eye makeup, but he knew it wasn’t your fault, it was her fault, Da-Som, god he hated her, she wasn’t a good influence on you but he couldn’t separate the two of you even if he tried, she was the only friend you had at school and you seemed to appreciate her friendship a lot, which he finds utterly ridiculous, you shouldn’t need anyone else than him, but your friendship means nothing to him if she keeps encouraging you to act so rebellious, he couldn’t tolerate that kind of behavior from you, but he was weaker back then, couldn’t help to indulge you at times, you looked so happy in that dress, which was completely inappropriate but he couldn’t lie and say he hated it on you, Namjoon might be smart but he was only a teenager then, seeing you in that dress gave him the boner of his life, so while he was absolutely going to change this kind of behavior and not letting you step out of line again, he let you enjoy the night, don’t misunderstand though, after tonight, he’s definitely going to take over your wardrobe from now on.

With his quiet yet very effective manipulation tactics is how he got you to become the perfect woman in his eyes, subtly making you change the actions he disliked, and it worked in his favor for quite some time until you hit him with something unexpected.

“I’m going to study psychology Joonie, I want to be a therapist so I can help people, what do you think?”  Fuck, this isn’t supposed to happen, his future wife shouldn’t want a career or want to work, isn’t that what his father told him? Why the fuck would she want to work? in that moment, he could only respond with “I think is great darling” It is not great, not for him and not for his father, he was already against their relationship, claiming his darling isn’t worthy of him.

“Give me a rest Namjoon, that’s the child of a fucking prostitute, just because Lee gave her his name doesn’t change what she is, I won’t be putting up with your little obsession anymore, you need to get over that girl” as if he would, but his father wasn’t wrong, your reputation wasn’t good, but it wasn’t your fault, it was your mother who was to blame for it, but that’s what he’s there for, to elevate your status, to make you (in his father’s eyes) worthy of being a Kim.

He wasn’t thrilled with your decision of going to college, but he had to see the good things that might come with it, if you have a career you’ll become more respected in your social circle, it wasn’t a masculine career in his opinion so he’ll not be worried about too many man being around you, and most important, it would make you happy, so he’ll allow it, only for the sake of your reputation, it really doesn’t matter to him, but his father won’t allow him to marry you unless he proves him how worthy you are, but he’s not worried, you were such a good girl, who wouldn’t be glad to have you as their daughter in law? Only a fool like his father, Namjoon would never let him break you guys apart, he has worked hard to be the heir of the company, and giving that his brother was not an option, he had to agree for you to be his wife, whether he like it or not. Namjoon giving up on you was never an option to begin with, he’ll make him understand in a good way, and if he chooses not to, there was always the option on making him understand in a very bad way, his father should know by now that his son wasn’t afraid to get his hands dirty to get what he wants, and Namjoon only wants you.

You both set up a plan, you agreed that after finishing your education, you will get married as soon as possible, he spend many sleepless nights planning the perfect wedding while you focused on your studies, he just needed to make sure it was going to be the perfect day for the two of you, he's worked so hard over the years for this day to come and he was not going to accept anything but perfection, but you are a very practical person (sometimes he wishes you just let him spoil you), no matter how much he wanted to show the entire world that you were his wife now, you insisted that the wedding should be a small, private moment.

“The only thing that matters it’s that we’re finally husband and wife, isn’t it my love?” You knew exactly how to get him, giving him those perfect puppy eyes with an adorable pout, he’s gotten better at not saying yes immediately to any of your request but he couldn’t help but to agree with you on that, you did had a point on making it a private event, it's supposed to be a happy and joyful day, not something that could be taint by hateful gossiping, it was a day for the history books in his opinion, the day he finally got his legal claim over you, a contract that sealed what was clear from the beginning, you belong to him and no one else.

The married life only proved to be anything but what Namjoon has heard from other men his entire life, instead of detesting the idea of going home to his wife and spend time with her, he yearned for it, counting every second that was left for him to go home and have his darling in his arms, his only consolation is that you were safe at work, spending your time doing what you love which is helping other people, all while still being dedicated to your duties back at home, proving him how lucky he was to have such a dedicated wife, he wanted to laugh at his father’s face, such a fool for not trusting Namjoon with his decision, Namjoon never made mistakes, he should’ve known better than to doubt his darling, she was the perfect fit for him, he shaped her to become the perfect wife and he had done an excellent job at it, his father needed to learn his place now that Namjoon has been named CEO, he doesn’t make the rules anymore, Namjoon does.

Thankfully for him, there was no need to get his hands dirty to get rid of his father, even if he didn’t respect him as much as he used to, he’ll never would’ve guessed that a man like his father would die of something so minimal as a heart attack, maybe that’s his punishment for being rude to his darling, he crudely thought, his father always thought he was above everyone, and now, Namjoon feels at peace knowing that his father is now where he belongs, in the depths of hell.

Contrary to what people might think, for the very first time, Namjoon could say he was happy with his life, he has a beautiful, kindhearted, smart woman by his side, he's the leader of one of the most influential companies in the country and he finally feels free to do anything he wants, Namjoon could swear this is nirvana, he's work so hard to achieve all of this and he’s so wrapped up in his little paradise that he doesn't think that anything can ruin this.

But for once, Namjoon was wrong, something can ruin all the effort he has made over the past few years, most specifically, someone.

This new patient of yours, practically a kid in your eyes, he can't even know his name because of something you said about "patient confidentiality" or some shit like that, you’re beginning to grow a soft spot for this kid and Namjoon couldn't accept that, not in a million years, he doesn't care if he has the saddest life story in the whole world, you were his, and now you think you can just invest so much time and effort in another man that wasn't him? Your own husband? Absolutely not, you can't do this to him, not after he allowed you to have a career and a job just for the sake of making you happy, he thought you've learned by now that no other man should occupy your thoughts, but apparently you haven't, that's find, he doesn't mind start taming you all over again, in fact, he thinks he's going to have a lot more fun this time around than he did back then.

He'll make it clear for you this time, you are his, you belong to him, and he was kind enough to give you the chance of choosing him the first time, but now he'll be the one to choose for you, and you best believe he’ll make the right choice. 

No one knows you better than him after all, not even yourself.

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#yandere #bts series #namjoon x reader #jungkook x reader #bts fanfction #yandere bts #yandere kpop #yandere namjoon #yandere jungkook #rm x reader #yandere bts x reader #obsession series #jungkook au #namjoon au #bts au #yandere!jungkook #yandere!namjoon

[colossal-fallout]

[ Classified ]

The full report - Eren Yeager

The following report details all information on Eren Yeager. Contains NSFW content and reader must be over the age of 18 to view this document.

For your eyes only.

Name: Eren Yeager

Birthplace: Shiganshina

Height: 180cm / 5ft 9"

General

[ A1 ]

Appearance & Hygiene practices:

Eren's chestnut brown hair is always clean and fresh. Whenever he pays you a late night visit, he'll have most probably just gotten out of the shower. Coconut scented shampoo of sorts? Whatever it is, it smells so good.

Prefers showers over a bathe. He says it's to save time, but he spends a good 40 - 60 minutes in there, easily.

Once he's dry, likes to throw on jogger bottoms and a hoodie over his bare skin. His bare skin that is now so soft and scented as his favourite shower gel which is either tea-tree oil or Coconut.

If he wants to remain clean shaven, Eren must shave every 2-3 days. Sometimes he likes to grow it out but nothing ever past a long stubble.

Minimal body hair.

Trims the hairs on his pubic bone/lower stomach. Has pleasuring you in mind as he does so. Will take into consideration the friction against you.

Totally clean shaven testicles.

Eren's nails are short but that's because he bites them. [ see section A3 ]

Beautiful set of teeth. Brushes twice daily in a modern AU.

Eren adores it when you brush his hair for him. He finds it extremely relaxing as you massage his scalp. His eyes will close and a small, barely audible hum will emit from time to time.

Eren's skin care routine is pretty basic. All of the steam from sitting in his hot, frequent showers for so long seems to do him wonders - his skin is flawless and worthy of envy.

Due to the healing power of being a Titan shifter, Eren has no scars.

Eren has quite large hands with long fingers. He doesn't wear rings or jewellery as it reminds him of the burden of when he had to keep that damn key on him at all times. Will however, put up with a wedding ring.

[A2]

Body & Love language:

Eren is a pretty introverted person. His hands are usually tucked away inside of his pockets - be it either trousers or hoody/jacket.

He hunches a little too. Likes to feel hidden. He's had enough attention over the years and wants nothing more than to just shrink away in a crowded room. Or maybe, it's the weight of the world on his shoulders.

Brooding, moody exterior. Extreme "resting bitch face"

Shrugs a lot. At first glance, you'd think he was a moody teenager trapped in a grown man's body.

Likes to sit with his feet flat up on the chair with his knees splayed - you'll usually find him like this with an arm resting over a knee while the other is at a 90 degree angle pointing away from his hip.

Fumbles his hands together in formal occasions when he can't sit so casually or tuck them away.

Likes to drape his arm over you without touching you. His arm will rest above you on the top of the chair. A clear indication of "They're mine" and "I will keep you safe"

His hips will usually be swivelled in your direction, regardless of where you are in the room. A subconscious body language of sexual yearning.

Eren likes to hold hands with you when you're walking. He's not huge on PDA but likes the strong yet subtle showings that you're together.

Tends to rub his thumb over the back of your hand absent-mindedly when you do so.

His love languages include physical touch. Can get very needy and touch starved pretty easily. Not in a overbearing way, but even just a run of his slender fingers through your hair is enough to keep him going until the two of you are in a more private setting.

[A3]

Bad Habits & Tendencies:

As mentioned above, Eren bites his finger nails. His toe nails too. It's pretty gross to be honest.

He never does it in public, but he has been known to do it in front of you when he feels comfortable enough to do so.

Get's very fidgety when irritated or annoyed, which is pretty often. Especially if Jean is around.

Short temper. He's learned to tame it more over the years where he doesn't show it so easily. But everyone has their limit and when his is reached, his yell is booming and pretty intimidating.

During an argument with you he has been known to raise his voice, but it's not the frightening roar you've heard him unleash on others before.

Always apologises to you after he's calmed down. Even though it wasn't that bad.

If you two ever have a bad falling out, will lock himself away for days. He'll be pissed at himself for letting it get so bad and depressed that you two are having such problems. But he'll do anything he can to fix it.

[ A4 ]

Common misconceptions:

Obviously everyone has their own cannons and opinions. But I don't personally see Eren as being an abusive partner. Yeah, he has his problems and treats his friends like shit but there's a reason for that we'll probably see in the last chapter. If you're worthy enough to pierce that cold and distant shell, you're a very special person and he'll treat you as such.

Eren actually has a large heart hidden under that huge chip on his shoulder. He cares and loves the people around him unconditionally. Even to the point of carrying out mass genocide to protect them.

Still... He does have a dark side to be weary of at times.

Even though he's gross while in Liberio, usually Eren is actually pretty clean.

[ A5 ]

Food & Drink:

In a Modern AU Eren loves fancy coffees with the weird names. The longer to pronounce, the better. He just likes the fact they give him energy and the fancier ones taste good.

Due to not having meat for so long, a good ol' fashioned beef/lamb stew is his favourite.

Doesn't drink in canon.

Modern AU, his alcoholic beverage of choice is bottles of beer and craft ales. Sometimes is a sucker for red wine.

[ A6 ]

Modern Au:

Eren wears loose clothing. Hoodies, loose jeans, those baggy cardigans too.

His texting style is spam over one long message. Especially if he's pissed off. He's too impatient to sit and type in paragraphs.

Drives a black car. Don't ask me what type, I don't know cars. But it's black, 'kay?

It also has "black ice" air freshener inside.

Likes to ride quads and mopeds along fields. He's a thrill seeker. Rollercoasters, bungee jumping... you name it he's game.

Eren plays the guitar. He took lessons for it but after about a year he just went his own way and self-taught.

If he sees a guitar at a party, he will pick it up and play it. He won't sing though.

He actually hates singing. He finds it embarrassing.

Always has in his air pods/earphones.

Likes any sort of music that is catchy.

Probably streams on Twitch. He won't talk much though.

Could have a wide range of jobs. Coffee shop, could be in college, might be a ride attendant... who knows? It's anyone's guess what Eren is doing. He doesn't talk about himself that much.

Romance & NSFW

[ B1 ]

Crush:

Eren would definitely be in denial he has a crush on you at first.

• “Does y/n seem different to you?”

Armin; “No…? In what way?”

“I dunno… Just, different.”

• His poor stubborn brain would be ticking for weeks as to why he suddenly wants to be near you a lot more often and has urges to touch you, even if it’s just a slight brush against your arm.

• Will find any excuse to do extra training with you

• Once he FINALLY clicks on as to why he’s had these feelings, he’ll be pretty knocked off his feet and a little annoyed at himself.

I’m here to kill the enemy...

• Still though… Can’t seem to keep himself away.

[ B2 ]

First kiss & general kisses:

After the initial denial and keeping himself away, he'll just decide one day he's had enough of feeling this way and decides to to something about it.

He won't shove himself onto you. He'll do some sly probing to see if there is any indication of reciprocation.

Knowing Eren, he'll indirectly piss you off or insult you. He didn't mean to. He's just lacking social skills. Man aint smooth.

You'll slap him, probably, where he'll keep his head away from you for a few seconds, realising he's pushed you too far. Whichever side you palmed him away, he'll stay.

He'll slowly return his gaze to yours before gently holding your arms, apologising and planting his lips onto yours.

His general kisses are quite firm and forceful. Not in an aggressive way, but a "god I want you so bad" way.

Always either slides his arms around your waist or cups your face/head.

He tastes like sweetened tea <3 / Coffee in a Modern AU

Loves coming from behind and snaking his arms around you, nuzzling into your neck when you're doing something. Doesn't like it when your attention is away from him for too long.

When he's feeling soft and tender, will dance his nose with yours and catching your mouth in a caress.

When he's super turned on, he'll suck your tongue, bite your bottom lip and kiss anywhere he can.

[ B3 ]

Sex:

Ha ~~!

Eren is up there with the best when it comes to sex. He knows what he's doing and he does it well.

Extremely skilled with his fingers and tongue. He'll have you crawling the walls with hysteria as he likes to tease you throughout the day. He more than makes up for it, though.

Gropes, nips, kisses, licks, bites, flicks... anywhere and everywhere he can.

Is the most vocal when you perform oral sex on him. Will groan so deeply, his entire body will vibrate.

Dirty talk is this man's second language.

"Look how desperate you are for me." / "Look how desperate for you you've gotten me..."

"Do I feel good like this?"

"Am I making you feel good baby?"

"You're so good at that. Fuck, such a good girl/boy"

"S'so fuckin' tight."

"You're my little fuck thing, aren't you?"

"You're perfect."

"I love you..."

Are some of the many things you'll hear while he's fucking you.

He doesn't really have a favourite position. He'll gladly take you anyway he can. If he's in a rough mood, he'll bend you over the sofa, take you up against the wall... But if he's feeling more soft he'll make slow, passionate love to you for hours.

He does have a strong soft side at times.

Dominic Dominant. He loves seeing you totally at his mercy, the power over you the most arousing thing in the world to him.

Big daddy dilf vibes. He knows what he’s doing and he’s fucking good at it too.

The only time he’ll sub is if he wants to be lazy - letting you ride him and use him to your heart’s content.

Dirty talk. It can get pretty degrading at times. If you’re not into that, he respects that boundary.

Will absolutely ruin you.

Low-key loves it when you claw his back in hysteria. He thrives knowing he can send you absolutely insane, and he can just heal the claw marks in a matter of seconds. Sometimes even during sex (which is the hottest thing ever)

In an AU modern, he would love to fuck you near a large mirror or record you both getting at it to watch at a later date.

A lot of hissing, humming and low groaning, especially when he’s close to unloading.

Likes to watch you masturbate, putting his head close and observing intently. Loses his shit if you moan his name while doing so.

Hair pulling is his overload language. Will tug fistfuls when he gets too turned on.

[ B4 ]

Kinks:

The risk of getting caught. He likes having risky sex in semi public locations. Makes a game of how loud he can get you to moan, knowing someone would probably hear you.

Light Degradation. When he’s in a rough mood, he doesn’t mind calling you a few names. Nothing too extreme. And if it’s not your thing, he’ll respect that boundary.

Loves a good ol’ 69. Having you on his face with your ass in view is just… *Chef’s kiss*

Speaking of ass, he loves to bend you over too, allowing himself in nice and deep with a great view and something Juicy to grab.

[ B5 ]

Aftercare:

Aftercare with Eren isn’t anything special unfortunately. He’s another who gets sleepy after sex.

Won’t ignore you though. Often lazy pillow talk is on the cards and telling you how much you mean to him and how beautiful you are.

Will run his fingers across your scalp to soothe you.

Also will kiss any bite marks or finger bruises he’s left behind and ask if you’re okay.

Relationship with loved ones & becoming serious

[ C1 ]

Friends & Family:

When Eren meet's your friends family he will be polite yet quiet. He wants them to like him but he won't pine for their approval. If they like him, awesome. If they don't...? No big deal.

Same goes with your friends. He'll stay quiet until spoken to at first, but once he's been eased into conversation, he'll flow with it a lot easier.

Again, he'll be polite but don't expect him to kiss ass, because he certainly wont.

[ C2 ]

Marriage:

You couldn’t actually believe Eren had proposed. Although he was down on one knee in front of your very eyes, your mind just wasn’t accepting it. Folks and onlookers watched with bated breath, awaiting your answer. He sure kept this surprise hidden well…

Of course, you said yes and he picked you up by your waist in a spin, colliding his lips to yours.

And now here he was, watching you walk down the aisle, a lump in his throat and his heart racing.

You looked gorgeous, like something from a fairy tale.

And of course, he looked as handsome as ever. His suit was smart and his hair was up in its usual bun.

Armin is his best man, of course; who is standing and beaming with pride.

Eren holds back his chokes and tears as he reads his vows;

“Y/N… From the first time I ever laid eyes on you, all those years ago, I knew you would be in my life forever. Back then, I didn’t think it would be as my wife, but God I am so glad it is. I’m sorry for my stubbornness and irrational behaviour when we were young. But despite that you still loved, and stood by me and for that I’ll be eternally grateful. I vow to always stand beside you, whatever the world throws at us. I vow to hold you when you need support. I vow to remember how you always had my back no matter what. And I vow to always love you, with my heart and soul, until the day I die and after.”

The room erupts in cheers and tears when you seal your kiss.

The reception is wild.

Everyone is drunk (except Levi) and dancing. Reiner and Connie are dancing like weirdos, Reiner's blazer removed and at one point Connie is on his shoulders.

Sasha has too much to drink and is spewing in the bathroom.

Mikasa can’t stop crying with happiness and pride.

He carries you to your room afterwards where you spend all night sealing a special bond that will never be broken.

[ C3 ]

Children:

Eren has a soft spot for children, believe it or not. As seen before the expedition to the forest of giant trees. He sees his old self behind the innocent glint of unaltered admiration within a child's eyes.

He's not super into child play though. He wont pull weird voices or funny faces. He'll sit at their level and speak to them like they were anyone else. Obviously, watching what he says around them.

If they're unchecked and acting themselves, he'll become quickly annoyed as they wreck havoc around him and will have to leave the room or he'll get too agitated.

If his s/o discovers they're pregnant he'll seem to take it well. But inside he's falling apart and freaking out. He won't ever show it to them, but he doesn't know how he could be a father. Would he be like his own? Would he be able to be a good figure to look up to? What if he fails? Is it selfish to bring a child into this cruel world?

He'll be shocked but understandably so. After after a couple of weeks of self-reflection and brooding, he'll start to feel better about the whole thing.

More protective over his s/o than usual. Will make sure they're eating, drinking, resting and god help you if he finds you doing something you shouldn't such as trying to lift something heavy.

Will hold your hair and rub you back, as well as bring you water while you're having your morning sickness.

"Babe? It's four in the afternoon. How come you're still sick?"

"Eren, it's called morning sickness but it can happen any time."

He'll click his tongue. "....That's a dumb name, then."

The first time he feels the baby kick within you, his heart absolutely melts. His eyes enlarge and you could swear you saw them soften with that spark behind his emerald greens he had when you were younger.

His large palm is warm against your stomach as he feels around, the little flutter of your child hitting against his skin making him flinch in surprise at first.

"Woah..." He'll gasp in amazement. "They're already so strong. Hey, y/n? Doesn't that hurt?"

"Sometimes." You'll laugh softly.

He'll gingerly place his face to your skin, a little embarrassed he's doing this; but he feels the need. "...Don't hurt your mom, okay?"

As your pregnancy progresses and you get larger, he will not leave your side. If he has to, he'll be worrying and you'll be occupying his mind. In a modern au, he'll constantly call and text and will get Mikasa or Armin to check in on you often.

Will be so gentle during love making. He's terrified he'll hurt the baby.

One of the only times you've seen Eren panic in his adult life is when your waters break.

You'd gotten up in the middle of the night to pee. Climbed back into bed and felt a strange pressure, followed by a pop. Then a warm gushing sensation. You wait a few seconds to settle your own panic before you nudge Eren awake.

"Eren..."

He'll bolt up, confused. "What? Are you okay? Is the baby okay?"

"Eren, my waters have broken."

"Shit. Okay. Shit. What do we do? Shit." He'll leap out of bed and throw the lights on. You get to your feet where more water will start to drop onto the floor. "Shit, shit. I'll get the bag. Do you need help getting dressed? Okay, where's my jacket? WHERE'S MY JACKET?!"

"Eren, honey I need to you calm down."

"Okay, sorry. I'm calm. Shit. Shit..."

Will hold your hand with a worried look the entire time you're in labour. Has water and snacks on hand.

Will watch in amazement as your child is pushed into the world. This magical moment changes something in him, but right now he's not sure what that is.

They will bond immediately. As soon as he holds your son/daughter he can't take his wide gaze off them.

They're inseparable.

Any doubts of being a bad father is washed away as he takes them under his wing and teaches them about the world.

#eren jeager x reader #eren jäger #eren smut #eren headcanons #eren yaeger x y/n #eren yaeger x you #eren jaeger #eren yeager #eren snk #eren s4 #eren season 4 #eren shingeki no kyojin #eren au #attack on titan eren #snk eren #snk fanfiction #snk headcanons #snk fandom #attack on titan #attack on titan x you

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

there's no better place.

CHE ‘TAZA’ ROMERO.

MAYANS MC ┃ USEFUL LINKS

❝ words: about 1.2k.

❝ a / n: as always, don't forget to comment and reblog if you liked it!

© gif: mine.

You don't start to clean the club until the last member has left, picking up empty beers, ashtrays, shot glasses and any kind of trash, before putting the chairs over the tables to sweep and mop the floor. It doesn't take you more than ten minutes, being something strange since normally you spend more than an hour cleaning everything around you. But the crew is not in the mood to celebrate anything, only to stay together to weather the storm. You have heard them talk, even if you have tried to not stick your nose in their business. You care about them though, they're your family at the end of the day.

Taking one last look to make sure everything is on point, you grab your leather jacket to wear it while turning off the lights of the club. With your hand on the knob and facing the darkness inside, you close the door and lock it up. You turn around with the clear intention to head your car until someone calls your attention. You thought all the crew was gone, but you were wrong. Taza is sitting on the stairs, head bowed down, playing with something between his ringed fingers. You can see above his left shoulder what it is. His gun.

He hasn't been the same since Riz left and his brothers are so concerned about their loss that they haven't noticed his world is falling apart since that day. Anyone, but you. Taza has always been a ray of sunshine. Laughing, telling jokes, cheering everybody up. Now he is just darkness, serious gestures, monosyllables as responses. And you have never felt more worried for anybody than you feel for him. Biting briefly your bottom lip as you keep the keys inside a pocket, you guide your steps slowly towards him. One of your hands lands on his shoulder whilst sitting down, before wrapping your arms around his left arm. Leaning to his side, you press your lips on his cheek, watching him close his eyes for an instant as Taza proffers a quiet sigh.

“You've talked to me one hundred times about that hammock you've on your porch to see the stars, but you haven't shown it to me yet”. You whisper resting your chin on his shoulder, curving your lips with a sweet smile when Che tilts his head to face you.

You squeeze fondly his arm under your grip when he comes closer to kiss your forehead, caressing with the tip of his nose where his lips have been a second before. Not saying a word, he stands up keeping his gun to safety to offer you his hand and help you to get up. But he doesn't let it go until the two of you approximate his yellow and flawless bike. Putting on the helmets, you wait for him to sit first and turn on the engine to have your place behind him. You feel his abdomen tense up when your arms surround it, until you rest your chin again on his shoulder, looking at you through the rearview mirror to make sure you're well before starting to drive.

Taza doesn't have any rush on the way to the ranch, enjoying the road for the first time in a few months. But as soon as you glance at the place on the horizon, his body gets tense again. You have indeed noticed that lately, he has been staying in the club, instead of going home, and you're starting to believe that it has something to do with Riz and the memories he built there together. And now, you're regretting your petition.

Once the bike is parked and you can jump off from it, you stand closer until Taza does the same taking your helmet next to his to leave both hangings on the handlebar. You follow him to the inside, being surprised for the fact that it's the first time you put a foot in after knowing him for more than three years and having some kind of special connection since then. Imitating him, you take off your jacket to place it on a chair before walking behind him to the back porch —with an amazing view of the desert and the dark sky full of shiny stars.

Taza gently holds your hand, claiming your attention in holy silence, pulling you closer to lie on the hammock. As he places an arm behind your neck and the other over your abdomen, you lace your fingers with his. And neither could wish to be in a better place. He has always found comfort and support in you, hearing him talk during hours about everything and nothing. He has taught you a lot of things too, as his wisdom is incalculable. But sometimes he prefers to stay in silence, just appreciating how good is your company, your closeness, your touch.

Che is watching you sideways looking fascinated at the sky as if it was something new for you. He obtains peace in your innocent smile, calm in your breathing, and for a moment he wants with all his might to ask you to stay, to be eternal with him. The world is a better place with you by his side. But he can't. Taza can't say a single word until you speak first.

“What?” You whisper giggling, turning your head at him.

“Nothing”. He replies with the same low tone, showing you a fleeting sweet smirk.

“Nothing?” You repeat with feigned incredulity, raising both eyebrows as you lie on your side without loosening the tangling of your fingers. “You know I'm here, right?”

“Yeah, I ain't that old to not see you”.

“Pendejo”. You scoff funnily palming his chest, earning a short laugh from him. “You know what I mean, Che”.

As you pout at him, the smile on his lips appears again. Shyly, in a melting gesture that races your heart and makes it jump within your chest.

“I like how you say my name”. He mumbles before you can ask what again, lying on his side too and holding you closer.

Your noses are almost touching the other, you can practically breathe the air from his lung, and you are already lost on his eyes —as a lot of times before, but never having him looking at you likewise. There you find the encouragement to take a step forward and place your lips on his. None of you moves an inch from your bodies, more than closing your eyes, and assimilating what you just have done. But it feels like Taza has been waiting an eternity to kiss you when he finally tastes you by fitting his lips with yours. Gentle and careful gestures that turn into tender smooches, while your right hand travels his chest up through his shoulder, then his neck, till reaching his shaved jawline.

“I don't feel like myself anymore”. Che confesses, still being too close to your lips almost touching them, and not able to open his eyes. “But when I'm with you, everything is different. I feel alive again”.

“Then I'm gonna stay here forever”. You murmur, placing your arms around his neck to get rid of any kind of distance between the two of you.

You feel the relief taking over his anatomy after pronouncing that promise, knowing it's exactly what he wanted and what he needed, but he didn't dare to ask you for. Tossing a leg over his, Taza sinks his face into your chest, accommodating himself under your loving embrace to focus all his senses on your heartbeat as his demons begin to fade away.

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#mayans mc x reader #mayans mc imagine #mayans x reader #che taza romero x reader #che taza romero #taza romero x reader #taza romero #taza romero imagine

[jiejie-eonni-onee-sama]

I’d put a crown at your feet... (Part I)

For the dearest @marilynmonroefanfics​ 💝👄

Hope you’ll like the story.

TW: mentions of smut

June 1972. Castle of Balmoral.

Walking through the Scottish lands, Philip Mountbatten, Duke of Edinburgh, was in a foul mood. 

He felt like his life was falling apart for two years. Or maybe for more years? 

He did not remember when it went sour, but for sure, he knew that his life was a complete mess.

First of all, his marriage was falling apart: he and Elizabeth grew distant from each other. Farewell, the sweet romance of the beginning! Even the birth of Edward, their last child, did not manage to patch things up between them.

Secondly, his “dear” wife did not show any maternal love for their children. She cast Charles, Anne, Andrew, and Edward away, often scolding them for their mistakes and barely complimenting their efforts or successes. 

Philip had to admit that he was not really present for his children, but he was not at ease with them. Moreover, Elizabeth took perverse pleasure remembering his royal duties.

But the final straw was when he discovered that his spouse enjoyed the company of other men, to say the least.

Amazing! And he was the one the press accused of being a cheating husband! It is a topsy-turvy world!

As he was brooding over the disaster of his personal life, he did not hear the sound of a four-wheel-drive coming near to him until a familiar voice called him:

"Hello there, dear brother-in-law!"

He turned around and saw Margaret at the wheel of her vehicle, a slight smile on her face.

"What are you doing here?"

"Invading Scotland! Seriously, I'm escaping from my sister's boring sycophants! They were wasting my day!"

Philip smirked: his sister-in-law was the best person to understand how he felt in this oppressive world. Even if they did not have the same character, Philip and Margaret managed to get along. Especially since they had to tolerate Elizabeth's obnoxious behavior for some years.

"If you talk about the Daniels and the Furlingtons, you took the best decision! I would do the same!"

"Is it not what you're currently doing? Escaping from my dear sister at long strides?"

The prince shrugged.

"Maybe..."

"I see... Fancy a ride?"

"Is it risky?" joked Philip.

"Oh, don't be such a coward! Get in the car!"

"How could I refuse such a lovely request?" said her brother-in-law with irony as he climbed in the car!

Soon after, they were driving into the Scottish countryside, enjoying the view at every turn. Philip admitted that his legs needed some rest after his long walk.

After half an hour of driving, Margaret stopped the car, and they appreciated the point of view.

"Well, I have to tell: you are an excellent driver!"

"Oh, I had a good teacher! Dad and I used to drive there when I was younger!"

She sadly smiled.

"I remember his laugh... He told me how bold I was!"

"I wish I could have those kinds of memories with my own father!" answered Philip.

"Sure, you were not lucky!"

Both stayed silent, watching the calm landscape until Margaret spoke again.

"If Dad were among us, he would never let Elizabeth behaving that way with you or the children!"

"You're probably right. Unfortunately, I don't know what your mother thinks about it!"

"Don't worry about that! She often criticizes Lizzie for her lack of maternal love! She said that the monarch of Great Britain should never forget both their royal obligations and their parental duties!"

"Regrettably, your sister does not really care about it!"

Margaret scoffed.

"You bet she did not listen! My dear sister repeats that her children are more a burden than a blessing!"

She turned towards Philip.

"Speaking of that, make some effort, damn it! It looks like you're trying to avoid them at any cost! Don't you love your children?"

This question hit Philip like a punch!

"What are you talking about? Of course, I love my children!"

"Then, act like it! They are craving affection, and they cannot count on their mother for that! They need their father, and if you don't do anything to rectify the situation, you will regret it!"

The Duke of Edinburgh sighed.

"I know that it's not an excuse, but nobody taught me how to be a father. I tried my best, but I only witness the disaster I've created!"

"Don't be so pessimistic, or you're going to make me depressed! Sincerely, between you and my sister, you are the better parent! You just have to improve it, and it's not too late!"

She frowned.

"But I can't even believe Lizzie dared cheat on you with this jackass!"

"You know the name of her lover?"

"The most recent one? Of course, I know his name... and you know him too!"

"Who is it?"

"You won't like it... But it's Roger Acherville, one of your squires!"

Enraged, Philip struck the dashboard.

"DAMN IT! THIS RASCAL BOWED AND SCRAPED IN FRONT OF ME, BUT SHARED MY WIFE'S BED!"

Margaret bit her lip: she wished she never had to tell that news to her brother-in-law, but she must tell him the truth, even if it hurts like hell!

"I'm sorry, Philip. I'd prefer never tell you this..."

He interrupted her.

"No, you were right. You did well to tell me who my wife is cheating on me with right now!"

Philip was upset. How could Elizabeth do such a thing to him, after all they have been through together?

"But now I don't know what to do ..."

He turned to Margaret and saw that she was wearing a big, mischievous smile.

The kind of smile that announced that she had an idea behind her head and that didn't promise well.

"What are you going to tell me again as a twisted idea?"

"You know the law of retaliation: an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth..."

"I know this motto, indeed. And then?"

"Well, what I mean is... I allow you to get your own back on my sister!"

Philip opened his eyes wide: he thought he hallucinated? Did Margaret just authorize him to cheat on Elizabeth? 

Years ago, she would have torn his eyes out if he ever imagines that possibility!

But now, the circumstances were different, and she was his best ally in Buckingham Palace.

Moreover, the idea of finding solace in someone else's arms was not unpleasant... 

He nodded.

"Alright! You convinced me!"

"Really?"

"Yes! After all, why my dear wife should be the one having fun?"

"That's the spirit, dear in-law! Before you start finding a lover, do you know what would make me happy?"

"What?"

"Shave that goddamn beard! You look like a caveman!"

The prince consort laughed: he almost forgot his bushy beard!

"What is the problem with that? It looks nice to me! People would think that I am an explorer! Or a Viking: after all, I am a Danish prince! Or maybe Socrates, as I am a Greek Prince too!"

"Of course, and I look like the lost twin of Marilyn Monroe!" she taunted the Duke while playfully punching him on the shoulder.

The two royals laughed and spoke for a long time, far from their daily issues. After all, this day was the beginning of a new journey for Philip Mountbatten...

Two months later. August 1972

Philip adjusted his bow tie: he hoped he wasn't doing anything stupid by accepting Margaret's invitation to one of her parties. She had promised him that he would not be bored and that he might find the perfect person.

He sighed: he knew he was running a risk looking for a mistress. 

If ever the press caught him in the arms of a woman, his reputation was gone! And his wife would not hesitate to put him down!

Straightening his chest, he gave a satisfied smile and got ready to join his sister-in-law when his son Andrew entered the room:

"Good evening, father ... Oh, you are very elegant!"

"Thanks, Andrew."

"Are you going out tonight?"

"Indeed, yes. I'm accompanying your Aunt Margaret to one of her parties. According to her, I am the guest of honor."

The 12-year-old boy nodded.

"Does ... Mother approve of this?"

"I have to. At least, your father will stop my sister from doing something stupid!" answered a familiar voice.

With these words, Queen Elizabeth entered the room. Dressed in a pearl gray satin dress, she had put on her most exquisite jewelry. She looked stern, almost disdainful. 

"Good evening, mother. You are beautiful tonight!"

The queen ignored the compliment and turned to her husband.

"Can I count on you so that Margaret doesn't end up dead drunk in another man's bed?"

"I'll do my best ... And you, what have you planned tonight?"

"I'm attending a reception at the Indian Embassy. As for Mother, she spends the evening with her lady-in-waiting, and Edward stays with them."

"And what about Charles and Anne?"

"I have no idea, and I don't want to know!"

Philip raised his eyebrows.

"I thought every parent should be worried about their children's nighttime activities!"

She replied in an annoyed tone.

"Oh, don't say such nonsense! They are old enough to fend for themselves! Besides, I have other priorities!"

She glanced at the clock that sat quietly in the back of the room.

"If you have nothing else to tell me, I'll leave you! I have to go to the embassy! Have a good evening!"

She turned on her heels and took off at a brisk pace, leaving her husband and son alone.

The Duke saw the sad look on Andrew's face and felt pain for him: how many times has he witnessed his wife ignore their children's words?

He tried to cheer his son up:

"Come on, it's nothing. I'm sure your compliment made your mother happy!"

Andrew replied:

"Don't bother too much about it, father. She does not care what I tell her. And she does the same to Charles, Anne, and even Edward!"

The young boy turned his gaze to his father:

"Even you, she snubs you all the time!"

"Well ... let's say that between adults, things can get more complicated!"

"Well, that doesn't make you want to be an adult!"

Philip laughed at the clear opinion of his third child.

"Don't worry, it won't be like this all the time! I'm sure you'll find someone you get along with!"

"I hope so too..."

Changing the subject, Philip asked:

"So what about you? What are you doing tonight?"

"I'm staying with Grandma and Edward. At least, I am sure to have a good evening!"

"I think so too. Well, I have to leave you: if I arrive late, your aunt might strangle me!"

"What are you waiting for? Go ahead!"

"I'm going! See you tomorrow!"

"See you tomorrow, father!"

Philip kissed his son on the forehead before heading outside the palace, where a limousine awaited him.

He got into the back of the vehicle and ordered his driver:

"We can go, Henry! Let's go to Princess Margaret's residence!"

"Right away, Your Highness!"

And the vehicle set off, taking the prince to the place of the party.

A few minutes later, he arrived outside Kensington Palace, where several luxury cars were already parked in the driveway.

With a steady step, he entered the house where a butler greeted him with deference:

"Welcome to Kensington Palace, Your Royal Highness."

"Thank you. Could you tell the Princess that I have arrived?"

"She's in the main living room, Your Highness. If you please follow me, sir ..."

The Duke of Edinburgh followed the servant into a large room with dancing music and laughter.

Philip spotted Margaret, in her best dress, chatting happily with her guests.

The butler walked up to his employer and announced:

"Lady Snowden, His Royal Highness Duke Philip of Edinburgh has arrived."

"Perfect! He's coming at the right time! Thanks, Howard!" Margaret exclaimed before going to greet her brother-in-law.

"Good evening, Philip. I see you dressed up… But you still haven't shaved your goddamn beard! What did I tell you?"

“This must be my rebellious side…” smirked Philip.

This remark amused the princess, who grinned.

"You got the point!"

She took his wrist.

"Come on! I have some lovely people to introduce you to!"

And so Philip became acquainted with singers, actors, dancers, musicians, artists, and other socialites of good English society.

Suddenly, he noticed the presence of a young man who was talking to some artists.

Although he tried to stay focused on the conversation, he found it difficult to take his eyes off this mysterious young man.

The latter had dark skin, raven hair, and intense ebony eyes. Dressed in an elegant black suit, he was rather slender and had elegant hands.

Philip saw that he was wearing light makeup that showed off his face. 

Margaret saw that her brother-in-law seemed hypnotized by the young man. She smiled:

"Tell me, Philip, would you like me to do the introductions with that handsome brunette over there?"

"What? Come on, Margaret, you don't have to ..."

"No way! Follow me!"

Letting out a long sigh, the Duke followed the Princess, who addressed her guests:

"So, are you having fun?"

"Absolutely, Maggie! This night is awesome!"

"I am delighted about it!"

She turned to the man who accompanied the mysterious young man.

"Jonathan, you nasty little secretive! You did not present me this delicious young person who accompanies you!"

"Where are my good manners? Margaret, Prince Philip, let me introduce you to Piero De Angelis! He is a model of your husband Anthony!"

"I should have guessed! Anthony has always had an eye for beauty!"

The British princess turned to the man named Piero.

"And you, my dear, how do you like this evening? Are you having fun, I hope?"

"Oh yes, Your Highness. I'm having a great evening!"

The prince noticed that he had a voice that was soft enough for a man.

"I am delighted about it!" smiled Margaret, who nudged Philip lightly.

The latter, having understood the message, cleared his throat before asking:

"Like that, your name is Piero? Like the character from commedia dell'arte?"

"Not quite, but I admit it sounds like it! My name is spelled P-I-E-R-O, while the character is spelled P-I-E-R-R-O-T. That is all the difference!"

"I see ... When you take a closer look, you look a bit like him!"

"Oh, really? Do I look melancholic?"

"No, but your makeup is as subtle as his!"

His sister-in-law slapped her forehead: she feared Philip might bring out one of his sharp sense of humor. His jokes tend to upset those involved. 

However, she did not expect Piero to respond maliciously:

"Beware, Your Highness: appearances are often deceptive. For example, when I look at you, I can say that it must be several centuries since you last saw a shaving foam!"

This gibe amused Margaret, who gave a fit of laughter, while the other guests gasped in horror: how dared this young commoner speaking to the prince consort with such poor manners?

As for Philip, he was taken aback: no one ever ventured to respond to one of his jokes. But he had to say: Piero had some spirit, and he liked that!

He laughed:

"Well played! I appreciate people with some character!"

Philip offered his hand to the young man:

"I know when I lost the game."

Smiling, the young Mister De Angelis shook hands with the prince:

"It was an honor verbally sparring with a member of the Royal family!"

At the second their hands touched, Philip felt like electricity went all over his body. He thought it has been years since he underwent such emotion... 

As for Piero, he was mesmerized: he always found Prince Philip attractive when he saw him on official pictures, but now, the young man could affirm that the prince consort was handsome, to say the least. 

The young man also observed that Philip's piercing eyes hid something else, but he could not tell what: sadness? Or melancholy? Hope? 

Yet, he was sure that the Duke of Edinburgh was not as happy as he seemed.

When they stopped shaking hands, Piero bowed respectfully before Philip:

"It was a pleasure speaking with you, sir."

"The pleasure was mine, Signore De Angelis."

Amused, the young man slightly bowed his head before he turned his heels and walked away.

Philip smirked: this young Piero was the most interesting man he ever met so far.

He glanced at Margaret, who smirked slightly. Looks like she had something in her mind...

"What?"

"Nothing... I just confirm that you find your match!" she muttered as she sipped her glass of Martini.

Rolling his eyes, Philip answered:

"Please, do not make overly ambitious plans!"

"What? Do not give me that stern look!"

Shaking his head in disbelief, Philip glanced at the young man with a sly smile on his face: he had the feeling that Piero would have an intriguing role in the future...

Two weeks later, at Kensington Palace.

In the main living room of the palace, Philip and Margaret talked about many gossips and their respective marriages.

"I'm glad to hear that you and Anthony are on better terms!"

"Yes. I would not lie, it was struggling. But, in the end, it is worth fighting for!"

The prince nodded before sighing:

"I really hoped that things would get better between Elizabeth and me. Unfortunately, I have to certify that it only worsens! She avoids me most of the time, and I am sure she pretends to have different appointments to be with this Acherville!"

His sister-in-law puts a sympathetic hand on his arm.

"I am sincerely sorry for this, Philip."

"Thank you, Margaret. But, my hardship only strengthens my desire to see someone else... Someone who can love me for who I am!"

An impish smile came across Margaret's face.

"A little bird tells me that you have a specific young man in your mind, am I right?"

The Duke of Edinburgh raised his hands in defeat.

"There's no fooling you!"

The princess squealed in delight.

"I knew it! I saw this little sparkle in your eyes that says a lot about your feelings!"

"Wait a minute... Are not you upset by the fact that I may be romantically involved with a man?" 

She shrugged.

"As if I care! Choose whoever you want to sleep with, as long as it gets on Lizzie's nerves!"

"I recognize your open-minded character!" chuckled Philip.

"Indeed."

"Speaking of him, what can you tell me about this Piero De Angelis?"

"Are you reading on my mind? I was about to tell you what I know so far!"

"Go ahead!"

She cleared her throat and answered:

"Well, I asked my best friend, Lady Anne Tennant, to give me some pieces of information about him. According to her, he was born in a middle-class family who fled Italy during World War Two. Loving parents, close relationships with his siblings. A nice life, to sum up. 

He is six years older than Charles. She also told me that he graduated from Oxford, but he prefers modeling. He sometimes worked as a tutor for children of noble families. I approve of his model career: he has such good looks! It would be a shame not to take advantage of it!"

"Sure... What about his temperament? His hobbies?"

"As far as I know, he is an artist: he loves drawing, sculpting, dancing, taking artistic pictures, painting, acting, and singing! A perfect artist, I tell you. Those who know him say that he is patient, charming, cultivated, smart, polite, and humble... He has some humor, but you have already noticed it. Ah, I almost forgot! He has some... unusual tastes!"

Philip raised an eyebrow, puzzled.

"What do you mean?"

"Don't imagine something scandalous! It's just that he loves good fashion, jewels, and perfumes."

"He has a fondness for feminine things..."

"Exactly. Is it not a problem?"

"Oh, I would handle... At least, I'll have someone to give those kinds of presents!"

"That's the Philip I know! I might add that he currently lives in the area of Westbourne, in the neighborhood of Notting Hill... which is not far from here!"

"You planned everything, did not you?"

"I learn to anticipate, dear in-law! He lives in a small house, so you won't be disturbed by potential housemates."

Philip smiled before saying:

"Alright. So, am I supposed to go there, and ask him out?"

Her grin confused the prince consort.

"Oh, dear... That won't be necessary!"

As Philip was about to ask what she meant, a butler appeared:

"Your Highness, Mister De Angelis is here. Shall I let him in?"

"Perfect, just in time! Let him in, Howard!"

The prince could not believe his ears:

"You invite him?"

"Of course, dear in-law! Like this, you would get to know each other better!"

At the same time, Piero entered the room, escorted by the butler. Margaret gave her warmest smile towards the young man:

"Piero, caro mio! What a pleasure to see you! How are you since the last time?"

"I am fine, thank you. I did not expect an invitation from you..."

He noticed the presence of Philip and bowed:

"Your Highness..."

"Mister De Angelis..."

Suddenly, Margaret stood up from her place and said:

"Well, you know what? I'll pop over Lady Anne and picking some pastries, while you two have a nice little conversation. I would not be too long..."

"What? But..." started Philip.

"No protest in my house! Alright, see you later!"

She turned her heels and walked out of the palace, followed by her butler.

The two men stood silent, looking at each other. Piero broke the silence as he tried a joke:

"I see that you finally shaved your beard..."

The prince chuckled:

"Yes, indeed. As you can see, my interview with the shaving foam went well."

"I hope my joke didn't offend you."

"Absolutely not. I'm fond of that kind of blunt humor, and I was pretty happy to find someone to share it with!"

"You see me honored, Your Highness."

Philip shook his head negatively.

"No formalities with me: we are not at Buckingham Palace! You can call me Philip!"

Piero was surprised by this inquiry but didn't really pay attention:

"However you like, Philip. In that case, you can call me Piero. Or Peter, if you prefer."

"Understood, Piero."

The young man asked:

"Did your wife ask you to shave?"

Piero regretted asking that question because he saw a glimmer of sadness in the Duke's eyes.

The latter sighed:

"No, I was the one who took that initiative. And to be honest, my wife doesn't really care about my hair choices. In fact, she doesn't really care about me at all!"

This revelation surprised Piero: he did not expect Prince Philip to make such a confession to him about his married life!

"You ... are you arguing?"

"If only that was all that! But unfortunately, there is also indifference, contempt, and estrangement!"

"I am sincerely sorry for you, Your Highness. But you know, all may not be lost: things will surely work out ..."

Philip laughed bitterly:

"How I would like to be as optimistic as you! But when the person you love goes to seek passion elsewhere, you no longer have any illusions!"

"Indeed, seen from that angle, it is a bad start to save a marriage ... But why are you telling me all this? You do not have to tell me these things."

With these words, the prince approached the young artist and replied:

“That's right, I'm not supposed to tell anyone about it. But I've been looking for someone for so long who could listen to me and understand me. I'm tired of feeling isolated… Nonetheless, ever since I met you, Piero, it's like the light has returned to my life. Yes, I know we barely got to know each other, but I've always trusted my instincts when it comes to people I meet, and I've been right every time. "

Piero began to understand where the duke was going and panicked:

"Huh? Oh no! No, no, no, and three times no!"

"What do you mean?" Philip asked, confused.

"I can see exactly what you want to ask, and I refuse! I don't want to be a simple consolation prize! I saw what it was like to be the lover of a king or a prince, and it doesn't make you want to be one! "

He continued in a calm tone:

"I have no doubt that you are a handsome man with many qualities, but I cannot accept being just a passing lover until the day you reconcile with the queen. I do not like the idea of being a simple shoulder to cry on that you give up as soon as everything is better. "

Philip was speechless: he expected everything but that! However, he should have waited a bit before declaring his love. But the tension in his relationship was so unbearable that he despaired finding someone he could love unconditionally.

And this young Piero was the person he needed ... he still had to accept!

Philip dropped to his knees in front of the young man, and took his hands between his while looking at him with pleading eyes:

"I swear Piero: if you were to become my lover, it's because I feel like no love exists anymore between Elizabeth and me. I suffered from abandonment when I was just a child, and I know only too well the harm it does. I would never do this to a person who is dear to me..."

"But get up, damn it! If we were seen like that ..." Piero stammered, panicked.

"I don't care! I know you are suspicious of beautiful promises, but I swear to you that I will never disappoint you. You will always be showered with gifts ..."

"Hang on! I'm not a materialist!"

"I know, I know ... I will make sure to spend time with you, I will call you regularly ... I will be the most devoted lover that can exist!"

The young man laughs lightly:

"Please, it feels like a Barbara Cartland novel!"

"Thank you for this unflattering comparison!" grumbled the prince, who smiled.

Philip stood up and asked:

"What are you going to decide?"

Piero bit his lip: to tell the truth, he was torn between two feelings. On the one hand, he was scared to become the lover of the Duke of Edinburgh. He did not want to betray the Queen and being the next prey of the press!

But on the other side, he had to admit that he was always fascinated by Prince Philip and his magnetic charm. And then there was this vulnerability in this man that the young man found irresistible.

After a few minutes of thought, he replied:

"I admit that this somewhat surprising declaration of love took me by surprise. And even if I do not want to be an accomplice in adultery, I want to give you a chance!"

Reassured, Philip dared to kiss the young man's tanned forehead and replied:

"I promise you won't regret it! How much time do I have ahead of me?"

"Two months. I think that will give me time to see if I can give it a go or not."

"And that will be more than enough to convince you!" Philip laughed.

10 months later. May 1973

The spring sun sneaked through the curtains, caressing Piero's sleepy face.

The latter woke up slowly and opened his eyes, a smile on his face.

He turned and fondly looked at his sleeping lover. 

The young man smiled when he saw Philip so appeased: he was happy to have accepted the prince consort's proposal.

At the same time, the latter succeeded in his probationary period: he was a considerate, loving, affectionate, and caring boyfriend. 

Piero had never had so many presents in his life: the number of beautiful clothes that filled his wardrobe was impressive. And what about the magnificent jewelry that Philip brought back from his official trips?

All this had convinced the young man to become Prince Philip's lover, but also his confidant: it was to him that the Duke of Edinburgh told of his marital misfortunes and his doubts about his ability to be a good father for their children. And Piero felt privileged to be one of the few to know Philip's emotional wounds.

But what made their relationship so intense was when they had sex. Although the prince was a middle-aged man, he was an experienced and vigorous lover. The first time they had sex, they took their time to get to know each other's bodies better and to have fun.

The other times, the antics were more intense, even passionate ... as was the case last night, when they "celebrated" Philip's return from an official trip to America.

He remembered the feel of Philip's rough yet gentle hands on his body, their bodies moving against each other, their cries of pleasure filling the air... It was a pleasant experience, even if it was the umpteenth time they made love.

Of course, the two lovers would like to see each other more often, but they had to be discreet so as not to attract the attention of the media, let alone that of the Queen.

But hey, that didn't bother Piero who was delighted not to become the new darling of London.

Suddenly he felt Philip stretch and wake up. The prince turned to his lover and smiled at him:

"Hello, mein Liebe. You are very early."

"To believe that I took your bad habit!" the young man smiled.

"But it's not a bad habit to be early in the morning. On the contrary, it gives me more time to enjoy your presence ..." the duke replied before kissing his lover.

"Speaking of having time to spare, wasn't it today that you promised Charles to have lunch with him?"

"Damn, I almost forgot!" Philip exclaimed, hopping out of bed before rushing into the bathroom.

"What a scatterbrain!" Piero laughed while getting dressed.

"I heard you!"

"That was the goal, amore!" replied the young man, teasingly.

5 minutes later, the Duke comes out of the bathroom, ready to return to his obligations.

"Am I presentable?"

"Honestly, you are still handsome!"

Smiling, Philip kissed his lover's cheek:

"I'll call you tonight, I promise."

"I will wait impatiently for your call ... Come on, go join your son!"

"I'm going right now. See you tonight!"

"See you tonight!"

As the Duke left the house, Peter lay still on his bed, a thoughtful smile on his lips.

He was glad that the relationship between Philip and his children had improved, especially thanks to his advice.

Piero had relied on his life with his parents and siblings to empower his lover to be a more present father to his children.

Speaking of which, Piero would love to meet his lover's offspring: seeing how Philip talks about it, they must be very nice young people.

He would love to talk about the arts with Charles, who seemed to be very passionate about it. 

He would also appreciate being able to walk with Anne and talk about lots of things or reassure her about her future as a young bride. 

He would love to give fashion advice to Andrew who was already paying attention to his appearance when he was only 13 years old.

 And he would be happy to spend time with Edward, the youngest of the siblings. 

This boy worried his father a lot because he was silent and always seemed sad...

Suddenly the phone rang, interrupting Piero's thoughts. 

He picked up the phone:

"Hello?"

"**Dear Piero, how are you?**"

"Oh, hello, Margaret. I'm fine, thank you. How about you?"

"**Oh, it's okay. As much as I wish I hadn't had tea with Sally Frodenborough! This woman is so boring, I thought I was going to fall asleep!**"

The young man laughed.

"Now do you understand why I politely decline her invitations for tea?"

"**You'll tell me so much ... But let's forget about it! Tell me instead about your relationship with my esteemed brother-in-law! How is it going?**"

"It's a fairy tale, I can't say better!"

Piero knew he owed it all to Margaret: she was the one who introduced them at that party at Kensington Palace. Since then, she had become an ally and a friend of the couple and did not hesitate to invite them to her home so that they could meet again.

All this with the benevolent complicity of her husband, Anthony.

Over time, the princess and the young artist became good friends, and she often invited Piero to have tea at her place.

"**Glad to hear that, darling. Besides, I have to say that your relationship is very positive for Philip. He is happier, more serene, and closer to his children. You did a great job!**"

"I only encouraged him, he did the rest!"

"**Don't be so modest! However, I think my sister is suspecting something!**"

Hearing this, Piero felt a chill run through his spine: if the queen ever learned that her husband was cheating on her with a simple artist, he feared the worst!

"When you say she suspects something, do you mean she suspects Philip of adultery?"

"**No, I wouldn't go that far. But she can see the change in Philip's mood and she knows it's not her responsibility. She's not really trying to find out, but let's be careful!**"

"You're right ... But, I admit that there are times I wish I could spend more time with Philip. I understand he's doing his best without raising suspicion, but ..."

"**I see what you mean, and I understand you ... Oh wait: I just got an idea!**"

"Again? But it never stops"

"**My dad always said I was the most imaginative of the family. Okay, here's what we could do...**"

A week later, at Buckingham Palace.

In one of the palace rooms, Queen Elizabeth was having tea with her mother, Queen Mum.

"But what is Margaret doing? She should have been here since 10 minutes ago!" the sovereign said impatiently.

"Don't be so harsh on your sister, Lilibeth. I've heard that traffic in London is a bit chaotic right now. If so, she got stuck in a traffic jam."

"Maybe ..." Elizabeth replied.

Suddenly a servant entered the room and announced:

"Her Royal Highness, Princess Margaret, your Majesty!"

"Finally, here she is! Let her in, thank you!"

The servant shifted and let Margaret in, accompanied by a dark, smartly dressed young man.

"Hello, my dear sister! Hello, mom! Sorry for the inconvenience, but there was an accident near Piccadilly Circus which disrupted all traffic. I thought we would never get there!"

"You see, Elizabeth: I was right ..."

"Indeed, mum. But tell me, Margaret, who is this man with you?"

"I was just going to explain it to you: you see, I thought back to your history of tutoring for Andrew and Edward. And it turns out that this young man, Piero De Angelis, worked as a tutor in very good families. Here, I have some letters of recommendation from them. " she said, handing out a few missives.

Elizabeth took the letters and read them in silence. After reading it, she said:

"My word, your former employers are heap praise on you, Mr. De Angelis. They compliment your pedagogy, your intellect, as well as your patience with children."

She gave a slight smile.

"Since my sister seems to find you suitable for her nephews, I think we can take you on for a trial period."

Piero respectfully bowed while giving the monarch a hand kiss.

"It would be a great honor for me to serve you, Your Majesty!"

"This young man looks very pleasant to me. In my opinion, your sons will be in good hands!" said the Queen Mother, amused.

"Thank you for placing your trust in me, Your Excellency!" Piero replied, giving a slight bow.

At the same time, the door opened and Philip entered the room.

"Ah, Philip: at the right time! I present to you Andrew and Edward's new tutor."

Seeing who it was, Philip thought he was having a heart attack: but what was Piero doing here? It was too risky!

When he saw Margaret by his side, it didn't take long for him to realize that she had yet come up with a completely crazy idea.

Straightening up slightly, he cleared his throat and politely said:

"Welcome, sir ..."

"My name is Piero De Angelis, Your Highness. It is a huge honor to meet you in person!"

The duke refrained from smiling: he had forgotten that his lover was an excellent actor. And he had just proven his talent in front of everyone!

"And how did he convince you to hire him?"

"He was warmly recommended to me by several high society families. All were satisfied with the work of Mr. De Angelis. It seemed logical to me to have a competent person to supervise the education of your youngest sons."

"Sounds perfectly fine to me!" replied the prince consort.

Satisfied with her husband's response, the Queen said:

"Perfect. Then maybe you could introduce Mister De Angelis to his future students?"

"But of course. If you will follow me, sir ..."

And as they were about to leave, Margaret followed on their heels:

"I'm going with them, just to make sure Philip would not terrorize the poor schoolmaster!"

"Hey, I am not a monster!" scoffed Philip.

The three left the room. The duke waited to be far from his wife to scolding his lover and his sister-in-law.

"What's got into you? Did you ever think about the risk of being caught?"

"Oh, don't be such a coward! I thought you would be pleased to have your lovebird here!" whispered Margaret.

"And I thought it would be easier for you if I work here. You won't have to find excuses to see me... Besides, I wanted to meet your children."

The prince consort raised an eyebrow.

"I beg your pardon?"

"You heard me: I wanted to meet your children. You talked about them since we started dating, that I aspired to know them better."

Philip pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed: it would be a miracle if Margaret and Piero did not drive him crazy. But, at least, he would manage to spend quality time with his sweetheart. So, why not take the risk?

"Fine, you convinced me. But, we have to intensify our discretion. Otherwise, we will be doomed!"

"I'll be careful, don't worry!" promised Piero as he gently held his lover's hand.

"Aw, you are so cute!" mockingly cooed Margaret.

"Please, Maggie: stop killing the mood!" grumbled the prince consort, rolling his eyes.

4 months later. August 1973.

"How do you find my drawing, Piero?"

"Let me look at it... Oh, it's beautiful! You have some talent, Edward!"

The young boy happily giggled: he really appreciated his new tutor. Unlike his predecessor, Piero was kind, patient, funny, and really interesting. Thanks to him, the little prince quickly understood his lesson by heart, and his grades improved. The same evolution can be noticed for Andrew: the teenager preferred learning with Piero to listening to his teachers at school.

"You think I am talented?"

"Absolutely! And for who you draw this?"

"For Anne! It would be her present for her wedding!"

"That's absolutely sweet, Edward. I am sure that she would love it!"

Speaking of the princess, she entered the room.

"Good afternoon, Mister De Angelis! Hello, Eddie!"

"Hi, Annie!"

"Good afternoon, Your Highness. How are you today?"

"Fine, thanks. I just come back from a horse-riding session with Mark!"

"Oh, lovely. How it went?"

"It went nice until it started raining. But we finished fast, so I would not soil the clean wooden floors of Buckingham Palace!" snickered Anne.

"Annie! Look what I've drawn for you!" cheerfully exclaimed Edward as he handed his drawing to his sister.

"Oh, thank you: I love it! I will show it to Mark: he would be impressed!"

"Can I draw something for him?"

"Why don't you ask him when he will come back?"

"Alright, I will wait!"

At the same time, Andrew entered the room, dressed in a nice suit.

"Good grief! I thought Mr. Brownsfield would never let us go!"

"Watch your language, young man! If your mother hears you, you will end up being lectured for hours!" gently advised Piero.

"I know, I know... But I am so relieved to be here!"

"I have noticed!"

Anne lightly cleared her throat.

"Piero, can we talk... in private with Andrew and you?"

"Of course! Edward, could you go with your grandmother? I have to discuss some important topics with your siblings."

"Are we finishing the lesson?"

"Yes, indeed. You can go!"

"Alright!" nodded the young boy as he exited the salon.

Soon as Edward left, the young man asked:

"What do you want to talk about, Anne?"

The princess sighed before answering:

"Well, it's about Charles... He is not well."

"Do you mean he is ill?"

"Depressed would be more accurate!"

"Oh, dear! And what depress him?"

Andrew explained:

"Well, his ex-girlfriend got married in July! And he did not really cope with their separation, months ago!"

Piero nodded: he knew that Charles was heart-broken since Camilla Shand, his former sweetheart, ended their love story last year. But he did not expect to be downcast to this point.

"And do you want me... to have a conversation with him?"

"Anne and I thought it would be helpful. After all, you are close to his age!"

"Mark tried to cheer his mood, but it did not work well!"

"Mh, I see... Fine, I will see what I can do!"

The two princes seemed relieved.

"Thank you for your help, Piero."

"That's what I am supposed to do. Where is he?"

"In the gardens. He needed some air..."

Thanking Anne and Andrew, Piero walked downstairs to the gardens where he found Charles, wandering like a lost soul.

"Charles?"

The Crown Prince looked at the schoolmaster and the latter saw deep grief in his eyes.

Slightly sighing, Piero kindly asked:

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"I... I don't know."

"As you want. Perhaps it would take a weight off your mind..."

The prince breathed before asking:

"Could you walk with me... please?"

"Sure, of course."

The young man joined Charles, and they started walking through the gardens.

"I don't know how it happened... I should have known that she favored that Parker-Bowles over me! But I still clung to the last straw of hope until I heard of their engagement!"

"I'm sorry for your heartbreak, Charles. But that was another life lesson, even though it hurts..."

The Prince of Wales sadly sighed.

"And as if it was not painful enough, Mother still pressures me to find a suitable bride... Even Father worried about it!"

"You are only 25 years old: you will find her, I feel it!"

"If only my dear parents were as optimistic as you, Piero. But no, they repeated all day long that Father married Mother when he was my age, and I'm exhausted hearing it all the time!"

"What does your grandmother think about it?"

"She says that I should not hurry to find my future wife, because a hasty marriage would inevitably end in a disaster!"

Piero nodded.

"Your grandmother is right, Charles: if you only follow what your duties command, you will bitterly regret your decision for the rest of your life. Of course, you have to find your future Queen, but you must love her as much as she loves you!"

He saw tears forming in Charles's eyes.

"I know but... I feel like everything I do is not enough for my parents. Am I just a good for nothing?"

Instinctively, the young artist knew that he would break the etiquette... but who cares? So, he did hug Charles in a comforting embrace, gently stroking his back.

"It's okay, Charles. I am here."

The prince did not cry, but he felt relieved that someone finally comforted him, so he hugged back Piero.

"I know this is not very formal, but I thought it would help you!"

"To hell with formality! I needed someone listening to me..."

They stopped the hug and Charles stated:

"I understand why Andrew and Edward appreciated you, Mister De Angelis: your patience and your kindness are helpful for the four of us!"

Piero shrugged.

"I just... do what I think is the best for everyone!"

"And I am glad that someone like you ensures our well-being..."

The young man smiled.

"You have no idea how much I am honored to have your trust, Charles. Listen: I will talk with your parents about it, and we will sort it out!"

"Thank you, Piero."

Unbeknownst to the two men, Philip was looking at them from the window of his office. The Duke of Edinburgh smiled while seeing his lover bonding with his son: indeed, he was happy that his four children appreciated Piero. Even though neither of them is ready to tell the princes the truth about their relationship: they have to wait...

In the evening...

"Do you want your son going bonkers? Stop pressuring him about his love life!"

"But he is still unmarried! At his age..."

"Yes, yes, I know the story: at his age, you were already married to Elizabeth!"

Philip pinched the bridge of his nose: Piero and he argued about Charles's single status. His beloved artist thought that his eldest son would go down into depression because of the familial pressure.

"Piero, I understand your concern about Charles, but he knows his duties..."

"Oh, please: don't start lecturing me about duties! If you were that meticulous about duties, you would never choose to cheat on your wife!"

"Don't muddle up things, would you? She started the war!"

"Don't change the subject, would you? We are talking about your son, in case you forget it!"

Piero sighed.

"Charles believed that he felt like a failure towards you. And he can't count on his mother to dismiss his fears! For God's sake, be more supportive of your son!"

"But..."

"No buts! You have to admit that your eldest son is not your carbon copy!"

"I admitted it! But people start talking: he is unmarried, had no official girlfriends, and he prefers attending parties! Rumors are spreading all around the kingdom."

His lover gave him a dark look and said with a cold tone:

"Let me ask you this simple question, Philip of Edinburgh: what matters the most for you? The public image or the well-being of your son?"

Philip stayed silent, much to Piero's displeasure:

"Fine, I see... You know what? You have all night to think about it."

He turned his heels and walked away.

"Wait, where are you going?"

"Did you really think I will spend the rest of the night with someone who does not listen to my advice? I really want to help you, Philip, and especially because I love you. But if you don't pull your weight, there is nothing more I can do. Good night!"

As he watched his lover walking away from him, the prince stood, desperate and worried. He messed up everything with his children, and now he messed up his love affair!

Philip sighed: why everything was so complicated? But, he had to acknowledge that Piero was right: he went back to his wrong habits, once again. 

And if he wanted to save what mattered the most to him, Philip had no other choice: he had to repair his faults...

14th November 1973.

The Westminster Abbey bells happily rang in the air. Indeed, the United Kingdom celebrated the wedding of Princess Anne and Captain Mark Phillips. A joyous day for the kingdom, and also for the royal family... Well, almost for Philip. Of course, he was so proud to walk his daughter down the aisle: what kind of father would not be happy for his child on this special day?

But what saddened the prince consort was that Piero barely talked to him since their argument about Charles. He could not blame him: the young man cared more about Charles, Anne, Andrew, and Edward than their own mother. 

As he watched his lovely Anne and Mark exchanging their vows, the prince spotted Piero, sitting near the Duchess of Gloucester. 

He knew that his wife allowed the presence of the young man at the ceremony to look after Edward, who was the page boy of his sister.

Piero was dashing in his pearl-grey suit, his white gloves, and his perfectly combed dark hair. Philip never ceased to be amazed by the angelic beauty of his lover. If only they did not argue 4 months ago, the prince would have already told the young artist how amazing he was.

But the young man was not inclined to speak with him yet, and this situation saddened Philip. 

Meanwhile, Margaret saw the two lovers with a sad smile: she hoped that this argument between Piero and Philip would not last long, as she feared it would break her brother-in-law's heart. She knew that the young Mister De Angelis was the only one for Philip, and she could not let this match made in heaven falling apart. 

Margaret smiled as she got another idea: the wedding reception will be the perfect occasion for a reconciliation...

Soon as they reached Buckingham Palace for the wedding lunch, Margaret whispered to Philip:

"Please, I know that you suffer, but talk to him!"

"I want to, but every time I look in his eyes... I only see anger and sadness. And I am the one who upset him!"

She gently patted his shoulder.

"You know what? Weddings are the best occasion to prove our love... or heal a relationship."

She winked before walking away, congratulating the newlyweds. As he thought about Maggie's musings, Philip smirked: after all, he learned to never give up what he held dear. And he would never give up on Piero... 

Later that day, as the guests were too busy dancing, gossiping, or enjoying food, the prince slipped away from the crowd and wandered in the corridors when he spotted Piero in a room, retouching his make-up. 

Smiling, Philip entered and said:

"Oh, dear: you do not need to change anything. You are already beautiful!"

Startled, the young artist stammered:

"What are you doing here?"

"We need to talk, I think.

Piero raised an eyebrow: 

"Really? About what?"

Philip closed the door behind him before answering:

"We need to talk about us. It feels like years since I hold you in my arms..."

"And why you do not hold me in your arms, precisely?"

The prince sighed.

"Because of my stubbornness, we are apart. And I regret it every second since that night. You were right from the beginning, Piero: what is the purpose of your help if I did not listen to your advice? I should have known that you're the right person since you only wanted the best for me. My words might sound hollow, but I will be grateful to you for being here when I felt alone!"

The young man sighed before looking at his royal lover with a sheepish smile:

"I had to confess: at first, I did not speak to you because I wanted to be sure you learned your lesson. But then... I took pleasure letting you stew for a moment."

Philip was shocked.

"Are you bloody kidding me?"

"Not at all. Besides... I already forgive you, my stubborn Viking!"

The prince smirked:

"And they said Arlequin is the trickster in chief... Looks like they underestimated Pierrot!"

"And you love it!"

"Oh yes!"

Piero laughed wholeheartedly. Then, he stated:

"So, you said that you missed the sensation of holding me..."

He opened his arms:

"Why don't we make up for lost time?"

Philip did not need to be asked twice and rushed into his arms, kissing him feverishly. Their hands rediscovered their bodies, every touch drawing breathed moans of pleasure from the two lovers.

"I love you, Piero."

"Ti amo, Philip."

And while the kingdom celebrated the wedding, the prince and the artist rejoiced in their reunion. 

June 1975. Balmoral Castle.

The summer went well for the royal family, and everyone appreciated the peacefulness of the Scottish countryside. For Piero, it was like discovering another place. He was amazed by the soft colors of the countryside and the calm surroundings, far from the lively Londonian life. 

To be honest, he did not expect the Queen to invite him to spend some days at Balmoral, but apparently, Edward insisted, and she accepted. How could he refuse the opportunity to be closer to his dear Philip? 

However, they both tried to be careful as he did not want to be caught by Elizabeth or the Queen Mother. 

But everything changed one day, as Elizabeth left with some of her friends for a horse-riding stroll with some of her friends, and her dear Mister Acherville.

It did not bother Philip, as he took advantage of her absence to spend some time with his dear artist. Once his wife went away, he looked for Piero until he found him in the gallery room, looking at the different pictures hanging on the walls.

Coming near to him, the prince gently held the young man from behind and said:

"Are you judging the quality of the paintings?"

"Well, I have to be honest that the painters were talented. Your wife should add your own paintings!"

"Seriously? She said it would look out of place... Besides, you are far more talented than me!"

Piero chuckled:

"You flatterer!"

"It is the truth! You're my perfect little Da Vinci!"

The young man turned around and put his arms around Philip's neck:

"And you're my handsome Saint John the Baptist with a mischievous smile!"

"You like my mischievous part of me!"

"No, I don't like it... I adore it!" chuckled Piero before kissing his lover.

Amused, the prince answered the kiss with the same passion... until they heard a collective gasp of shock!

They turned around and saw Charles, Anne, Mark, Andrew, and Edward who stood near the door, astounded and silent.

Horrified, Philip stammered:

"I... I can explain everything..."

"You better explain, yes!" said Anne with a cold tone.

Mark closed the door behind them, preventing any gossiping from the staff.

"Now that we are alone, can you explain what happens?"

"This scene does not really need an explanation..." smirked Charles.

Ashamed, the prince started to explain:

"I guess that we do not have the choice. As you have noticed, your mother and I do not have a good relationship for some years. I thought that it would improve, but she decided to spend some time with another man. I was so desperate, and I neglected you - and I am sorry for that. And then, your aunt Margaret introduced me to Piero..."

"Auntie Maggie and her plans!" snickered Andrew.

"You got the point, Andrew. And so, at the very moment I knew Piero, I felt like something changed... To be honest, I felt that I fell in love again. I would be forever grateful to Piero for everything he did for me."

"Was it your idea to hire him as Andrew and Edward's tutor?" asked Charles.

"No, it was again Margaret's idea. And I saw how you felt better since he spends time with all of you!"

"Do you plan to tell us the truth one day?" asked Andrew.

"We aspired to, but I do not want you to see me as an intruder in your family. But I can assure you that I deeply love your father as he loves me!" explained Piero.

The five young people looked at each other before Edward answered:

"You know, Mister Piero, I don't mind if you are in love with Papa. Besides, you love all of us more than Mum does. So, I am happy to have you here with us!"

"He is right: at least, you listen to us and you try to encourage us, unlike Mother!" added Andrew.

"I do not really care about my parents' affairs, as we all know that their marriage is doomed. But now, let's be honest, Piero: you made him happy, and it matters the most for us!" stated Charles with a genuine smile.

"I have to confess that this is quite unusual... But, my dear Anne has a high opinion of you, Mister De Angelis, and so am I. Don't worry, we won't tell anyone about your affair!" smiled Mark.

"You see, Father, we all support you, and we are happy to have Piero with us at Buckingham Palace. So, there is no need to worry." grinned Anne.

The two lovers sighed with relief: at least, they accepted their relationship. 

"Thank you very much!" breathed Philip with a slight smile.

"You're welcome, Father. But, the next time you want to show Piero your affection... Try being discreet!" laughed Andrew.

"He takes that from you, dear!" chuckled Piero.

"I guess so..." sighed Philip, even if he could not help smiling.

It looked like, after all, that they gained new allies... 

27 August 1979.

In his house, Piero was dozing on his couch, reading a collection of poetry works by Oscar Wilde while he listened to some trendy music on the radio.

Suddenly, he heard the voice of a journalist interrupting the music:

"Ladies and gentleman, we interrupt our program as dreadful news has just been released by Buckingham Palace: today, Lord Louis Mountbatten, Admiral of the Fleet and former Viceroy of India, has been killed by a bomb planted aboard his fishing boat while he was spending his holiday with his family in his summer home in Mullaghmore, in the north-west of Ireland. 

We deplored also the tragic loss of his grandson Nicholas Knatchbull and Paul Maxwell, a young local crew member. The remaining people present on the boat when the attack happened, suffered from serious injuries and were transported to the closest hospital..."

Piero dropped his book, troubled: it could not be! He rushed to his phone and dialed Philip's number. After a few seconds, he heard his lover's voice:

"**Hello?**"

"Philip, it's me! I have just heard about your uncle! Is that true?"

The slight sobbing on the other side of the phone answered his question:

"**They... They murdered him, Piero! They killed him! And they took his grandson's life! How dared they?**"

"I am terribly sorry for your loss, my love. I know how much he was a loved one to you..."

After all, Louis Mountbatten was not only the uncle of Philip: he was his paternal figure, a role model he praised so many times. Piero could not imagine how his lover suffered from this tragic loss.

"My condolences, amore mio. You are in my prayers, you and your family. I hope that the injured will recover soon."

"I hope so... Thank you for your call."

"You're welcome. How are the children?"

"Charles is deeply upset, Anne is crying, Andrew cannot believe it, and Edward tried to cope with this tragedy."

"I imagine... Don't hesitate to comfort them."

"I will... I am sorry, but I have to quit: Elizabeth required my help to organize the funeral. I'll call you later."

"Don't worry, it's fine. See you later, my love."

"See you later, angelo mio!"

As he hung up, Piero felt bad for Philip: his lover endured so many hardships in his life that the young man wondered if he can handle this new tragedy... 

5th September 1979.

Sitting in his living-room, Peter watched the funeral of Louis Mountbatten on television. He watched the royal family, Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher and her husband Denis, and some major figures of the kingdom attending the obsequies, all dressed in black and showing a sad expression on their faces. 

The young man wished he could attend the funeral, just to be here for Philip and comforting him. But it was the mourning of a family, and he did not belong to this family...

Later that day, he heard a knock on his door.

"I don't remember to entertain someone today..." muttered Piero as he opened the door.

Much to his surprise, Philip stood there.

"Philip? But what are you doing here?"

"I needed to see you... Because I have something to tell you. May I come in?"

"Of course!"

The young man stepped aside and let the prince enter the house. Then, he closed the door behind him and asked:

"Do you want something to drink?"

"No, thank you."

"Alright. May I know what are doing here?"

He noticed that Philip held a large box under his arm.

"Hm, what is this?"

The duke sighed before explaining:

"Since the murder of my uncle, I thought about everything that happened in my life, both good and bad memories. And then, I thought about us, and I realize how important you are to me since we started our relationship. I wish I had met you sooner, but there we are. This tragedy casts light on the most significant person in my life: you."

He opened the box, revealing a golden crown before he put the ornament at Piero's feet. Then, he gets on one knee and said:

"You deserve everything, Piero. And moreover, you would be a wonderful consort. That's why I wanted to put a crown at your feet..."

"Wait for a second: it looks like a proposal... But you are already married!"

"I know, I know. I cannot divorce Elizabeth, and I think you understand that. But it is my way to say that I will belong to you, and you only for the rest of my life. And I wanted to know if you feel the same..."

Piero nervously chuckled.

"Oh Lord, that was unexpected!"

He kneeled near Philip and replied:

"I won't ask you to nullify your marriage, because I know what are the consequences. But I am moved by your gesture, and if you want to know, I will never look at someone else the way I am looking at you. I love you, Philip Mountbatten, and it won't change..."

"I love you too, Piero De Angelis." smiled Philip, relieved, before he kissed Piero.

As they tightly held each other, the two lovers felt like the sadness was less oppressive. They had the impression that nothing could tear them apart and they will surpass everything together.

October 1979.

"So, tell me more about this charming girl. What is her name, already?"

"Her name is Diana. Diana Spencer."

"What a lovely name! Is she the daughter of Count John Spencer?"

"Exactly."

Walking through the halls of Buckingham Palace, Charles and Piero were talking about the Crown Prince's new girlfriend, the young Diana Spencer.

"I know that you're dating her for perhaps one month, but how is your relationship?"

"Quite good, to be honest. She is calm, smiling, quite smart... Of course, she had different hobbies than mine but... I guess it's alright."

"I would like to meet her. I can invite both of you to my place if you want."

"It would be a pleasure."

A servant arrived.

"Mister De Angelis."

"Yes?"

"Her Majesty The Queen requires your presence in her office. If you please follow me..."

Piero was intrigued: why would the Queen want to see him?

"Alright, I arrive. See you later, your Highness."

"See you later, Mister De Angelis."

Piero followed the servant until they arrived in front of the door. The man knocked at the door before he announced:

"Mister De Angelis, Your Majesty."

"Perfect, George. Good afternoon, Mister De Angelis."

"Your Majesty," replied Piero.

The servant left the room. 

The young man politely said:

"Your Majesty, I renew my condolences after the tragic loss of Lord Mountbatten... I shall say that I share your pain."

The Queen answered in a neutral tone:

"Thank you for your consideration, Mister De Angelis. However, the pain is not the only thing we share..."

Puzzled, Piero asked:

"May I know what are you talking about?"

She looked at him with contempt:

"Don't you dare think I am a fool, Mister De Angelis? I have learned that you have an affair with my husband!"

Piero stared in amazement: how could she know about it? He was sure none of the children told their mother, neither Margaret nor Philip. So, it must be a servant...

"I am astounded by such accusations, Your Majesty. Your husband and I have only cordial relationships, and that's all!"

"Stop spreading your lies. I know that you are the mysterious person my husband comes to see almost every day."

She came closer to him and snarled:

"I gave you my trust, I even left my children with you, and this is how you thanked me?"

Usually, the young artist would have lowered his head and being ashamed. But this time, he stared defiantly at her and said with a cold tone: 

"Maybe I would be the rudest man in your kingdom, Your Majesty, but I can't stand such hypocrisy. Especially when it comes from someone who hurt her children and cheated on her devoted husband..."

"How dare you?!"

"I can ask you the same. You did not expect that I knew your dirty little secrets, am I right? After all, your lover was not really careful: he put his latest love letter in my office. What a big mistake!"

He restrained himself from smiling as he saw Elizabeth grew pale.

"But, I am a gentleman: I won't tell the media about your romance if you let us alone. Otherwise, the entire Commonwealth will hear about his adulterous Queen..."

"You have some nerve to threaten me as you do, Mister De Angelis..."

"I don't threaten, I warn: this is all the difference. After all, you would not have hesitated to destroy my life. Let's say that we are on equal terms for now..."

Suddenly, Philip and Margaret burst through the door.

"Ah, right in time, Philip. I have just tell Mister De Angelis that I knew about your affair."

As Philip was shocked, Margaret raised an eyebrow.

"And then? It's not like Philip was the only guilty!"

"You were supposed to support me, not to defy me!" snapped Elizabeth.

"How am I supposed to do that, as you enjoy belittle all your family members - it is a miracle that Mother is the only exception. And you deserve what happened..."

"Should I understand that you are behind this?"

"Absolutely, and I won't regret anything I did! And I am so glad that Philip has someone who did what you are supposed to do!"

The Queen fumed as she understood that her sister and her husband joined forces against her.

Philip added:

"You see, Elizabeth: you throw me away, but I won't running after you anymore. I finally find love again, and if you dare to mess up everything, I would not mind telling your friends about your relationship with Acherville."

Seething, Elizabeth raised her head in an arrogant gesture and declared:

"That is not going to happen for long, Philip. You know where your place is, and you will give this entertainer up!"

"I don't think so, dear wife. I am not the one who gives up so easily..."

He smirked.

"Now that you know everything, shall we leave you?"

"You're dismissed. Now, go!" she replied with a short tone.

The trio left the room, a relieved smile on their faces. However, they won't drop their guard, as they knew how embittered Elizabeth can be.

But it looked like she lost the war. Now, it was Philip and Piero's turn to conquer Buckingham Palace... 

To be continued...

N.B: This request is written like an AU and changed many things from the characters to the events. 

Please be kind and comprehensive and don’t snap about it!

Anyway, I hope you liked the story and I am waiting for your requests.

See you soon! 😘😷😍🥰💖

#requests #the crown #the crown au #prince philip #queen elizabeth ii #princess margaret #matt smith #drew roy #claire foy #vanessa kirby

[fyasamisato]

Character Talk: Korra - Choices and Identity

Hi all! Been such a long time since I’ve done this. I had a absolutely wonderful conversation with a friend yesterday about Korra and I wanted to put it into writing. (Warnings, depression)

It’s difficult for me to express the impact Korra had on me as a character. How much I could relate to her journey and her spirit. We both fell upon dark times together, and watching her overcome, helped me to do the same. It’s that journey into darkness I want to shine a light on. Because in my opinion, Korra’s journey is one of the best written arch’s for a protaginist I’ve ever experienced. 

Korra was raised in unique circumstances. Understandably so given the recent history with the avatar. But being raised on a compound, prevented her from experiencing the world beyond the horizon, being taught about the role you are expected to fill, the power and expectation in your legacy and the weight of the world that you will be expected to carry is going to have an effect on who you grow into.

For Korra, that shaped her into a fiery, headstrong, reckless, and even sometimes arrogant young woman. She chose to embrace that legacy with both arms. I’m the avatar, you got to deal with it. She didn’t shy away from her destiny, instead her destiny became who she was. The brightest point in life to look forward to.There was no other option, no other dream and no other option only a desire to measure up to that legacy and to prove she was worthy to carry it.

Being the avatar, was her identity.

So it only makes sense that the series tests that resolve and that identity over and over again.

She expects to change the world for the better. She expects to bring balance to the world because that is what she is told she is meant to do, and thousands have done it before her. Anything that falls short of that idea, that legend, any grey area is going to be considered failure in the eyes of someone who being the Avatar is all they ever wanted. The expectations others put on her, don’t hold a candle to the expectations she put on herself. To measure up. To be what the legends told her she should be. In both books 1 and 2, that identity is put to the test. What can the avatar do for the non benders and their oppressors? What can she do when a civil war divides her loyalties? What choices will she make when the world stands poised to be changed forever? She faces these questions, with mixed results. In both the eyes of the world, and herself. She’s ridiculed and even despised. When you alone stand to make the choice to reunite the spirit and human worlds, you’re going to have second thoughts, you’re going to question if you made the right call. Headstrong as she is, Korra asks herself that question constantly. Is she fulfilling her destiny? Is she doing a good job, or is she making things worse? Could someone else have done better? Could Aang have done better? She was raised to think that she would make a difference. That she was the only one who could.

It’s easy to buckle under that weight when the world is at stake.

Book 3 begins, and Korra is left to question if she made the right decision, opening the spirit portal. It hasn’t made life better for everyone. Human or spirit, none of whom were asked if this is something they wanted. She made the choice for them, because she was the only one that could. Right? She was the avatar, this was her responsibility, no one else. To bring harmony between human and spirit was the point right? Wasn’t that balance? Korra is left to ponder this, racked with so many doubts as to her place and her ability to make the right choices. To question herself more deeply than she had before, and she had before, so many times. Every challenge she faced shook her resolve. Losing her bending, Unalaq’s manipulation. Nothing was as simple as she expected. 

So it must come as a huge moment of shock and relief, when she discovers her actions had side effects. That air benders are returning, and that was entirely due to the choices she made. For Korra, this is something of a revelation. The equalist conflict wasn’t clean. The water tribe civil war left its marks. Could things have been handled better? Did she do the right thing? Those are the thoughts gnawing away at her, and yet this? The return of a people? Of her predecessors people? That is an absolute good right? No grey, no complicated motivations, no villains with justified causes. Just something good, that she caused. She did the right thing. Finally she brought unquestionably positive change, like an avatar is supposed to.

But then it has consequences you never imagined.

No one. Could have predicted the air nomads return. What’s more, no one could have predicted what that would lead to. The damage it could cause. What happened next, what Zaheer and the red lotus did, is Korra’s fault. She’s sure of it. Intention doesn’t matter to her, nor how unexpected the results. All that matters is these consequences came as a result of a choice she made. You think you’re doing the right thing, but the world always becomes more complicated than you expect. It would be unfair to blame yourself for that, but that’s exactly what Korra does, and the the world changes. All she can do is try to catch up.

For a brief moment, she felt like the avatar’s of legend. Felt like she was living up to the legacy she so tied her identity to. For once in her life, she was worthy to carry on Aang’s story. The Avatar’s story. Bringing back the air nomads was her proudest moment. The best thing she’d ever done.

To have it turn on her so violently...

What is Korra left with? She faced her most challenging battle. She survived, after the most suffering she’d ever experienced.  Suffering no one should have ever had to endure. But the balance is broken, and the earth kingdom is in chaos. Once again, the resolution of one conflict gave birth to another. Something worse, around each corner, and for the first time, she’s in no state to fight it.

And this time, she doesn’t have to. Watching Jinora’s ceremony, and seeing her come into her own. One can’t help but see a glimpse of Avatar Aang in Jinora’s shaved head. The legacy Korra is trying to carry. The shadow she’s lived under the whole of her life. 

And that’s when Tenzin, her guide, the living legacy of Aang, comforts her with the best, and worst thing she can hear right now.

They’ll take up the cause. They’ll take up the legacy of balance until she can return. She can rest.

The Avatar isn’t needed.

I don’t think it’s by accident that moment of Korra’s reaction is one of the most talked about and praised moment of the series. Is she happy for Jinora? Of course. Is it a relief to know the world will have someone to protect it? That things won’t fall apart because she’s gone? Yes.

But they shouldn’t have to. 

Every conflict in the series, is a direct attack on the Avatar. On it’s role. The world has changed since the hundred year war. Leaving one to wonder if heroes even have a place anymore. Amon attacked her abilities. What was she without them? Unalaq presented her with a dark reflection. What lines could she cross before she goes too far? Zaheer meanwhile struck at something deeper. Her cause. Her legacy. The avatar imposes balance. One person, decides the fate of millions, and now, those people she tried to protect, are beginning to protect themselves.

Of course Zaheer was wrong, but the issues he proposed didn’t slink back into the shadows. They’re present for all to see the flaws in the system.

Her whole life, Korra was told she was needed. That the avatar was needed. They are one and the same in her mind. Now she’s faced with a sobering truth. She’s not needed. The world will move on without her. It’ll survive without her.

If she isn’t needed, if someone else can bring balance, then why should she? Why should she suffer again and again when she doesn’t have to? When no one needs her to? Why should this responsibility be solely hers to carry?

What is Korra to do, when all she’s left with is time to ask herself those very questions?

When she’s alone?

A long time ago, I loved the finale of book 1. Because I asked myself, what Korra’s lowest point could be? When someone so physical, so tied to her own ability to affect change, lost that ability? I thought losing her bending, losing the chance at the avatar state was the lowest point. I bet if we could have asked her that, if we could have peered into her fears in book one, she would have had the same answer. And that made me worried. Where could they go from there?

Thankfully, I was wrong. Losing her abilities, wasn’t her lowest point. Even powerless, an Avatar can still do great things. Still promote the balance of the world.

No, the worst thing that could truly happen for her, the darkest hour would be the revelation that she didn’t have to. That the world would balance itself. That she’d failed more profoundly than being beaten down. Than a villain achieving their goal.

That maybe the world didn’t need an avatar anymore. 

Her destiny, that legacy, that responsibility wasn’t needed. Someone else could do her job, and they could do it better than she ever could, cause all she’d done is make mistake after mistake. (This is what she tells herself)

What she’d so wrapped up her own identity with was unraveling. If Korra wasn’t going to be the avatar? What would she be? 

The scariest answer of all is the only one she’s left with. Nobody. 

Korra never had another dream. Her want, her need, was to be a good Avatar. To live up to that calling. Her childhood on that compound had prepared her for nothing else, no other door was presented to her, no other choice. Her life was decided for her the moment she was born. She was going to be the avatar and that was it. So what is one to do when that’s not enough?

Korra had nothing else to fall back on. Nothing to replace that yearning, that drive in her that burned like fire. All she was left with was a hollow where that fire used to be. With nothing else, she begins a downward spiral. A self perpetuating sense of directionless. A depression that began to eat her up from inside, and that grew worse for three years, until she turned away from her legacy, from her friends, and from her family, because all of them were better off without her.

Those are the things we tell ourselves when we struggle with depression. Achievements? The good we do doesn't seem to break through that fog. The love and support from those we care about, doesn’t seem earned. Leaving us only with the worst doubts our minds can conjure.

There are times it feels like no one can hurt us the way we can hurt ourselves

Depression is something I’ve battled myself, and to this day, I have never connected with a character’s struggle as much as I have Korra’s. 

Nor has a triumph ever felt so cathartic.

“If you look for the light, you can often find it.But if you look for the dark that is all you will ever see.” -Iroh

Watching Korra find that light again, helped me to find my own.

Korra defined herself as the Avatar for most of her life. When she at last overcomes that struggle, the avatar is still a part of her identity, but that’s just it. Only a part.  Moving forward, she learned that her identity could be more. Was already more. That there were so many wonderful things in this world. Friends, family, and all of it leaves a piece of itself to carry on. Even the antagonistic forces in our lives, present us with a chance to learn. To overcome. Every experience builds up who we are, and what we become, more than titles ever could.

She learned the weight of the worlds didn’t have to rest solely on her shoulders, but that even so, she could still do the right thing. She could still make a difference. Maybe it was more complicated than the world needing an avatar or not. Regardless of title, it needed her. It needed Korra.

Korra began as a character forged by expectations. Both in universe and out. If you’re reading this I doubt have to tell you what she had to overcome along her journey and in the eyes of the fandom itself. The bar she had to clear, was immeasurably high. Expectations of whether she could live up to it all hung over her head, as much as it hung over the series itself. 

When that was always the wrong question.

For so long she wanted to be the perfect Avatar, to live up to the heroes that came before. She was trying to forge the legend of the avatar, rather than the Legend of Korra.

Her journey, works so well, because it’s tied to the legacy of the series. The question of how to followup something so brilliant as avatar is the question Korra faced every day. How do you follow up a legend?

Instead of allowing herself to be crushed by the legacies of the past, Korra learned a far more valuable lesson. That the choices we make shape us, not the expectations of legends long gone. That we can forge our own identities, and our own futures. That to be something, isn’t the end all be all. We can define ourselves by more than our responsibilities.

That we will make mistakes, and that those mistakes will have consequences. That we will make choices and sometimes things will go dangerously wrong. That sometimes we will break, shatter into pieces and wonder how we can ever be put back together. 

Those are the sorts of things destiny doesn’t prepare you for. Things that get left out of the retelling. A legend, doesn’t have blemishes.

So why would we ever compare ourselves to them? Why would we hold ourselves to those mythic ideals no one could ever match? Why run ourselves bloody and ragged trying to be something we’re not? Something no one ever really was?

A person’s story, isn’t beautiful because it’s flawless. Life, is messier than legend. Failures define us just as much as successes. Those flaws help us to build, to reflect on who we really are and the things we really want. 

She never had to be the perfect Avatar, because there’s no such thing.

All she had to be was Korra, and being Korra, was enough.

#korra #avatar korra #the legend of korra #legend of korra #lok #tlok #atla #Avatar The Last Airbender #analysis #character analysis #best character #essay #writing #musings #character essay #series essay #series analysis #aang #character talk #I've thought about this a long time #and korra is my favorite hero #struggle #depression

[thebibliomancer]

Tides of the Dark Crystal liveblog pt 18

Tides of the Dark Crystal by J.M. Lee because HEY PERISS WHATS THE BIG DEAL?

Last times on book: Amri and co are on a quest to unite all the Gelfling clans against the Skeksis. They’ve crossed Maudra Ethri and the Sifa off the list and have headed into the desert to meet the Dousan clan at the Wellspring gathering place. After spending some time at a lake and eating some melon and stressing about a storm that’s not supposed to be hitting the Wellspring at all, the gang is further alarmed when their guide Periss takes Kylan hostage and forces them to come with him.

Chapter 18

Quest Log updated: Save a tree

Periss directs the team to a cave in the cliff wall. There’s a bunch of astrological carvings on the cliff face but Amri doesn’t have time to look at it. What with the storm. And the hostage crisis.

The cave is large enough to hold several dozen Gelfling and yet its just Periss and his captive audience. Which raises some questions from Amri.

“What were they doing back there?” he cried. “I saw them -- the Dousan, all just... just sitting around the lake! While the storm destroyed the Wellspring! Why?”

“Because that’s how they are.”

I’m still seeing why Periss was at odds with Dousan culture.

Periss lights a torch letting all the people without darkvision (everyone who isn’t Amri) to see how nice this cave is.

On the walls, reaching up about as high as a Gelfling stood, were carved and etched illustrations. They showed Gelfling with shaved heads and tattoos, bearing incense, all standing in a line in sets of three. The row of Gelfling ended facing a beautifully articulated tree, with long gnarled roots surrounding by a pool of water. The tree branches and leaves spread wide and tall over the heads of the Gelfling. Above the canopy were the jagged depictions of lightning and storms, and at the tree’s base sat a long-backed creature with a heavy tail. Four big arms and a mane tied in knots and braids.

“A Mystic,” Naia gasped. “The ancient sage?”

Ooookay. The puzzle pieces are starting to come together now.

If an urRu was the sage who taught the Dousan their rituals and traditions, no wonder the clan is passive and stagnant!

Kylan asks about the tree in the picture since there was no such tree at the Wellspring, although there were a lot of roots.

Periss tells him that the songs say that the tree was once so tall that it could be seen from any part of the desert. But the tree - and the lake which once filled the entire valley - started to shrink. And the tree was just a dried up old trunk eventually felled by a summer wind by the time Periss was a child.

Amri assumes that the tree died but Periss firmly denies it. But that’s what the rest of the Dousan think too.

They gathered the dried up branches and burned them.

But Periss knows that the tree is still alive because if it weren’t the lake would have dried up. He’s sure that the tree is the source of the water.

“Maudra Seethi was the first person I went to. She told me I had to let go. That clinging to things that have passed on will only chain me to an effigy of the past. She even gave me a part of it to burn. Can you believe it? A pyre for a tree that lives! That is the ritual taught by the sage, from hundreds of trine ago. But she wouldn’t understand that rituals must change with time, and circumstance.”

This still does sound like the kind of sidequest you’d get when rolling into town in an rpg.

Heck, I think fixing a tree IS a quest you get when rolling into Whiterun in Skyrim.

Can you imagine though going ‘you just need to let things go’ ABOUT THE DEATH OF ONE OF THE GREAT TREES? Because that’s what I’m assuming this is. A tree big enough to be seen through an entire desert? That’s pretty great. And the Dousan just shrugged and went ‘i guess it’ll die.’

(At this point since the group is listening to him and engaging and not having to be threatened, Periss puts away the knife. Good call, Periss.)

So Periss left the Dousan in anger, traveled the world for a solution, found some of those exposition petals, recognized the group in Cera-Na and thought ‘these protagonists will definitely be able to fix the tree.’

I mean, good call there, honestly.

But specifically its because of how Kylan dream-stitched the petals and how Naia healed the Cradle Tree in the first book. An event that was included in the exposition petals.

I love how Kylan’s quest concluding at the end of the second book has driven so much of this book. He shotgunned a bunch of petals out into the world and it keeps paying narrative dividends.

Periss also gives Kylan back the firca. Yay, best boy has his magic instrument again!

Naia agrees that the tree is probably alive based on what she sensed about the lake waters but she’s not sure that this is within their power to solve. The Wellspring tree is in a whole lot worse shape than the Cradle Tree.

“Well, we might as well try.” Onica stood near where the cave opened back into the valley. The storm outside was so dense, it was like the fabric of a Skeksis robe. “If we don’t, this storm will destroy everything. The Dousan, the Crystal Skimmers, the Wellspring. Even if we survive the storm itself, we may be trapped in this cave.”

“Caves aren’t really that bad, but I get what you mean,” Amri said under his breath.

HAH!

With the fate of the entire clan and maybe them on the line, Amri steps into the silence.

“Onica is right. We have no choice but to try. But let’s make one thing clear” -- Amri faced Periss and held out his hand -- “we’re doing this as friends. Not as hostages. Got it?”

The Dousan boy hesitated, but one glance out at the storm sealed his resolution. From the strength of his grip, Amri wondered if he would have preferred it this way from the beginning.

I KNEW IT! WELCOME TO THE TEAM PERISS.

There’s coffee in the waiting room when you’re not in the active party and you can order a team jacket through HR.

Amri is a cave boy so he’s the one who finds a direction in Naia and Kylan’s doubts.

I guess that Amri has rock sense? I mean, there’s been bits where he’s talked about hearing the voice of sand but I didn’t remember whether that was something he had been doing before. But if so, cool, another clan specific ability for anyone wanting to make an trpg or something. Grottan have rock sense.

Amri feels that there’s water under the cave floor and deduces that the water streams to the cave from the Wellspring.

He tells Kylan and Onica to stay in the cave while he, Naia, and Periss head back out to the lake where the tree was.

“The firca definitely won’t be heard by the tree all the way from this cave!” Kylan protested. Amri put a hand on his friend’s shoulder and squeezed.

“Mountain water is full of minerals. You tasted them in the Wellspring. The minerals will have formed crystals around the underground rivers. Minerals like that will carry sound just fine. The clearer the better. That’s how the Grottan speak when we’re spread out among the caves.”

“But I don’t know if I can -- I’m not a Grottan --”

“That doesn’t matter. I believe in you!”

Aw frens.

And another Grottan power maybe?

But Amri tells Kylan to find a spot with good acoustics and play the song of life. Find the life still in the tree and awaken it so maybe Naia can heal it.

When Amri (with special guest Tavra), Naia, and Periss go back out into the storm, its gotten even worse. And it was already pretty bad!

They reach the lake with all the Dousan sitting around it not reacting to the storm or to them really.

Except for Erimon who asks them what the heck they’re doing.

“Could ask you the same thing!” Amri cried. “I thought you said the storm wouldn’t come here!”

Erimon grimaced. “Where are you going?”

“Into the lake. We’re going to revive the tree,” Periss said, pulling Erimon away in defiance. “And you’re not going to stop them.”

“No!” Erimon shouted. He faced his brother. “Periss, listen to me! For once, just listen! The tree is dead. You have to let it go. This is out of our hands. There’s nothing more we can do except surrender to Thra’s will. Why can’t you understand this?”

“You may not be able to hear its song, but I do. I hear it in my dreams and in my nightmares. My own clan won’t believe me, so I brought someone who would!”

Oof. No wonder Periss is so prickly.

Erimon tries to convince Naia and Amri that diving into a lake could kill them.

“You could die down there, and for nothing.”

“If we stay up here, we’ll die anyway,” Amri said.

OH DANG!

Heh.

Anyway, Naia and Amri dive into the lake.

Its a very important two-person operation. Naia can breath underwater. Amri can see. They need both things.

And there’s a third thing that needs doing too.

Amri remembers from the last book that Kylan’s firca had driven off the spiders even before being refined into a firca. And Tavra is a spider. Amri can’t hear the song underwater because there’s water in his ears but Tavra can.

Glad you are with us, he thought to the Silverling.

Perhaps this spider body can be put to use, after all.

Frens.

But also, its pretty cool how Amri thought of a plan that used all of the skills the group has. Except Onica but she’s done her part.

Also, Amri, Naia, and Tavra are dreamfasting to communicate underwater without blubbing bubbles at each other.

Its been a minute so woo another cool application for dreamfasting.

Also also, Naia can swim FAST with her wings which are not nonadjacent to a fish’s fins.

Amri held his breath as Naia pumped her wings and plunged, powerfully driving them into the murky deep. When his lungs screamed for air, Naia breathed life into him, gills open like lace around her neck. Tavra caught a bubble, holding it under her legs like a smooth, clear opal.

The lake seemed endless. It had been dark above, but as they dived, the lightning of the storm dimmed to a dull flicker. The sounds of the storm, the drumming, earthshaking thunder, died away, and as it did, Amri heard the sound of a flute. Through the underground streams and water it sounded like the eerie song of a ghost -- transcendent and unending, calling out to something that might no longer be strong enough to hear. Surrounded by the song, it was as if they were floating through a dream.

This sequence would have been very hard to do for the show but how I would have liked to see it.

They reach the lake bottom where Amri starts digging through the mud with his feet trying to find any sign of life. And he does.

Something “ringing, softly moaning in answer to Kylan’s song” under think layers of mud, there’s a spot of green among the decomposing roots of the once-Great Tree.

A stubborn tree. Still alive even in just one part of the roots. Amazing.

No wonder the Dousan thought it dead. They can’t breath underwater so they couldn’t check this deep. And they don’t have healers like Naia so what could they do even if they had found the sign of life?

Good thing a diverse group of trouble-solving protagonists rolled into town.

Naia gets on that spot of green and tries healing the tree but runs into a complication.

It’s calling for someone else. I can’t do this alone.

You mean me? Can I help?

No, it’s...

Naia closed her eyes, focusing. She had a gift; he’d seen it before. To hear the songs of Thra, to dreamfast with creatures other than Gelfling. He put his hand on her shoulder, lungs aching for his next breath.

It’s asking for the Dousan, she said finally. She looked up at him. Its people. Periss, Erimon. We need them here, now, or this tree will die, and the storm will kill us all.

Aw, dang.

Anyone know where we can rustle up more Drenchen on short notice? Or does someone want to invent scuba gear like yesterday?

#dark crystal #the dark crystal #Tides of the Dark Crystal #liveblog #Amri #Naia #Kylan #best boy #also best hostage #Tavra #Onica #Periss #Sandmaster Erimon

[mementofloreo-archived]

@sorrowmarked​: His first response startles her, she’s about to object when he apologizes for saying it. A frown still tugs at her lips. Not because of his reaction to her confession, but because his first impulse was to assume he wasn’t good enough for her. Her brows pinched together, “Hey, it’s okay,” she said, reaching over to comfort him, her fingers brushing his knuckles. “And that’s not true." Most days she didn’t feel she she was good enough for him, but love wasn’t about worth. Love was about loving. It was a verb. It was an action. It was a choice. She loved him. She chose to. Maybe if she was lucky he would choose to love her back. And she would do her best to respect him, and treat him with kindness, and trust him, and support him, and be his biggest cheerleader. But worth didn’t factor into it. It was all … just action, and choice. What she decided to do, for the person she loved. Now that she had said it, now that she had done it, she didn’t feel so nervous now. There was no worry hanging over her head. There was just this. The after, the what came next. He’d tell her he returned his feelings, or he he would tell her he didn’t. Suddenly all that worry felt so … silly. Of course, they’d still be friends after this. Of course. Because that’s how they worked. They’d always be best friends. But then he was smiling at her and his eyes were watery, and she knew. Knew where this was going. Should have just told him ages ago. I worry too much over nothing. He pulled her in close and her arms wrapped around him, her cheek against his chest. There’s never been anybody but you, she didn’t know if she felt guilty or elated. Both, she guessed. Her hands tightened on the back of his shirt, bunching in the fabric. "I wasn’t as quick on the uptake,” she said, voice soft, and warm, smile bleeding into her words. “I just needed the time to realize that I loved you,” she said. She paused, “That’s not right, I’ve always loved you,” she said, which he should know. “I just needed to realize I was in love with you." Closing her eyes she paused a moment, listening to the way his heart was pounding in his chest. "You’re my best friend Daisuke,” she whispered. “My life has always been better, my days have always been better, because I have you. I remember how lonely it was before I met you,” two little kids, prone to illness, unable to run and play like they wanted to. He’d become her best friend fast. Stayed her best friend. “You’re my best friend, and the guy I love, I think both can be true,” she whispered. Her arms tightened around him. “Both probably should be true, and I am proud that you’re my best friend. I’m proud you’re the guy I love. I sometimes … god I wish you could see yourself the way I see you. Because if you could you’d know there was no one better than you. No one else with your heart, and your kindness, and your compassion, and your optimism. You amaze me every single day.”

[I put this under a cut because it's SO FUCKING LONG????? Have fun reading the extended lotr script I guess LMAO??? Daisuke is extremely smooth here tho tbh]

"...In your defense, I probably didn't make it an easy conclusion to reach," Daisuke says on the tail end of a chuckle rumbling through his chest. The sensation brings with it the odd realization that it's actually been quite some time since he really hugged her, and the last time he did his voice was still only just starting to change.

It'll probably still deepen a little more before he finishes growing, but what used to be a cracking, faltering high tenor is now balanced and smooth and almost baritone. Limbs that were wiry and angular are lean and strong and growing stronger by the day. And he was babyfaced even into his third year of middle school, but when he looks in the mirror now his face is stronger, sharper, almost a little rugged- especially since he's started needing to shave every few days.

In fact, until near the end of third grade, Hikari was taller than him.

They're on the edge of their second year of high school now. Then it'll be their third and final year, they'll graduate...he winces internally at the prospect of having to fill out career plan forms, but what really has his focus is just how long it's been and how much has changed.

They've known each other since before they could string together proper sentences. Since a time when Daisuke was even more timid and prone to crying than her.

He hasn't recalled in a very long time that the reason he first started working so hard to be more assertive and outgoing- to be stronger, tougher, braver- was all because he wanted to be someone who could protect and support her. Not because she needed him, but because she was a source of incredible fortitude for him. Someone who shone brighter than the white hot light of a summer sun.

He'd worked hard to be strong and brave all because Hikari had been his hero. On a bigger level than even Taichi ever was. Taichi was and still is a mentor, a role model, a brother to him. But he knows that if not for meeting Hikari, if not for her friendship, he never would have dared to break out of that timid, isolated little shell. Everything that makes him strong ultimately stems from her, even though he's never told her that.

A hazy, old memory comes to him, and he finds himself recounting it to her out loud without really thinking about it. "...You know, the first thing I ever learned to 'cook'- putting it loosely...it was instant ramen. The kind you cook in a pot, yknow? We were probably in first grade, I think?"

He's holding her more loose and relaxed now, chin nestled atop her head. "You'd been in bed with a fever for a couple of days, and I think at first I was just there to drop off some handouts from school that you needed to catch up on. Neither of us had very many other friends yet."

"Taichi was probably out with friends or something, and your mom was leaving on an errand just as I was arriving and let me in...and you were just waking up when I let myself into your room to check on you."

A quiet laugh bubbles out of him, "...I couldn't even get a word out before you mumbled about being hungry 'for the first time in forever'. 'Course, I knew just how hard a fever could hit your appetite and how much of a pain in the neck it was once it finally came back. I think I stood there all of two seconds before I dropped the handouts and my stuff and turned right around to let myself into the kitchen."

"I don't know how I managed to get everything together but I remember dragging a chair from the dining room so I could reach the cabinets and the stove, opening about a million drawers before I found any measuring cups for the water...I at least knew roughly how much heat I needed for boiling water- probably wouldn't have tried to mess with the stove otherwise, I think."

"...Anyway, I think I undercooked it just a little, but your mom commented all dry and deadpan that she was just thankful I didn't start a fire, once she got back. I ladled out bowls for both of us and I couldn't find a tray or anything so my goofy ass just scrambled to your room as fast as I could without spilling and set them on the kotatsu. While making a noise that probably sounded like a teakettle all heated up."

He snorts at that, "That particular strain of brainlessness has always been a hallmark of me, I guess. Still. You looked so relieved, seemed so glad that I'd thought to make something that would be light on the stomach. Most of all, though..."

He pulls away, dropping his hands to his lap. "I'd never seen you anywhere near that happy because of anything I'd done. It was the first time I'd ever felt like I'd actually done something worthwhile for you, at a time when you were still the only friend I had. I felt so powerful in that moment, more powerful than I ever have since."

Shyly, gingerly, he lifts a hand and brushes some hair out of her face. "I stared up at the clouds all the way home that day and I clung to that feeling for as long as I could, and I knew. I knew then that if it was for you I could become anything in the world, do the most impossible things, carry the heaviest weights. I didn't have the words then, of course. I was six and barely reading. But I felt it. And god, I understood that feeling more intimately than anything else the world had ever taught me."

He knows he's probably pink up to his hairline at this point, but isn't it about time he actually told her how significant she's been? In completely frank and honest terms, without the joking or the melodrama?

"You said that you wish I could see in me what you see in me." His fingers trace down her cheek, "But sometimes I think I do. All I have to do is look at you, and I see myself. Everything I've been, everything I want to be, everything that drives me forward and compels that compassion you're talking about, none of it could ever have sprouted or grown if I hadn't met you."

"I could never have stood and taken my first steps outside of myself if you hadn't been holding my hand." he continues, "And every step forward I've taken since then, I've taken it hoping beyond anything else that I could give you even an ounce of what you've given me."

His hands are shaking when he takes her face more firmly, and his eyes are a little misty again. "I didn't always know I was in love with you, Hikari. But since the moment we met you've been something even stronger than the sun for me. You're the gravity that keeps me grounded so I can run. And what is there to make us fall if not gravity, right?"

It's a horrible, corny line to end on and it has him smiling awkwardly. But even so he leans in, and he presses a firm kiss to the center of her forehead, holding it there for a long moment, only to rest his own against hers when he pulls away. "There's nobody I'd rather have as my core."

#「ʜᴇʀᴏᴇꜱ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴄᴏᴍᴩʟᴀɪɴ║ꜱᴏ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ʟᴇᴛ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ꜱᴇᴇ yᴏᴜʀ ᴩᴀɪɴ」 [Daisuke] #「ᴡʜᴇɴ ʟɪꜰᴇ ʟᴇᴀᴠᴇꜱ ᴜꜱ ʙʟɪɴᴅ║ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴋᴇᴇᴩꜱ ᴜꜱ ᴋɪɴᴅ」 [Daisuke🎔Hikari;sorrowmarked] #Daisuke highkey a way more poetic motherfucker than anybody gives him credit for smh

[tonyspep]

a home sweet home (with a couple kids running in the yard)

a/n: soooooooo like this is all @rocketrhap4229's fault lol. she is just as in love with dad!richard as i am, so she wasn't going to tell me no even though i have like a million other things i want to write right now. i added dad!kit for me because i can't resist him and i love the idea of him as a dad as much as i love dad!richard. this came from listening to the beatles song “ob-la-di, ob-la-da.”

~*~a home sweet home~*~

(with a couple kids running in the yard)

pairing: richard madden/you and kit harington/you

summary: just a day in the life of dads richard madden and kit harington

rating: k+

being a great father is like shaving. no matter how good you shaved today, you have to do it again tomorrow.

reed markham -

You bite down on your lip, twisting the flesh between your teeth, staring at the text Sadie – Kit's fiancee` - sent you, yoga in twenty. kit and jax will be @ your door. don't you dare say no this time. we need this. one of them definitely remembers how to change nappies like rich's sister beth taught them. and the other can warm up a bubba right quick. they'll be fine. braaaaaaaandy. c'mooooooooooon.

You can hear her voice – that thick Yorkshire accent, so different than your Midwest twang (as Richard calls it) – in the text, how she elongates the one 'a' in your name to eight whenever she's trying to get her way. The two of you became fast friends as soon as the boys introduced you on a double date nearly three years ago, but you swear you've known the brunette your whole life, that she's the sister you never had but always longed for as a little girl who had to deal with three older brothers growing up.

You sigh, fingers threading through your shoulder length strawberry blonde hair, knowing ultimately that she's right.

You need (desperately) to get out of the house, to converse with an actual adult again, to feel – your heart clenches briefly, a pang of guilt rushing through – like a woman, not just a mother. Buuuuuuut... the familiar tingle of what if creeps up your spine and your ready to back out because what if Ruby does need you? What if – god forbid – something happens to her? You'd never forgive yourself.

She won't be so tiny and breakable forever, you reason, but right now she is... Having just learned how to walk on her oh-so-adorably tubby legs, still crying when she falls on her bum even on the carpet, still needing you in the most wonderful way, and you just can't take any chances. Not right now.

Before you can send your usual i'm sorry, there's Richard's familiar burr coming from the doorway to your room, “Ye better not be doin' what I think you are,” He warns, eyes narrowing sharply.

He's in front of you in three easy strides of his lean legs, large hand cupping your cheek so gently and you can feel the cool silver of his wedding ring against your skin. His crystal eyes bore into yours and his perfectly plush mouth twists wryly as he laughs, low and warm, “Do ya really think so little of me? That I can't be left alone with Ruby for – what – two hours tops? And I won't be alone, anyway. My best mates Kit and Jax will be here, too.”

You laugh at the way he considers Kit and Sadie's two and a half year old little boy one of his mates. As if he and the mini-Kit (that little boy really is the spitting image of his father, right down to the unruly mop of deep black velvet curls they share) would be going down to the pub for a pint.

“Eventually,” He murmurs, leaning in close so his lips are mere centimeters away from that spot below your ear, the one that will always drive you mad. “You'll have to leave me and Ruby alone. You can't stay cooped up in this house forever. Go, you know want to. You don't always have to be Mummy,” His words are so delicious against your skin, the heat of his breath making your knees weak. “You're still Brandy, y'know. The funny, smart and utterly gorgeous woman with the most perfect mouth made for the most sinful of things that has got me just as head over feet now as I was the day I saw you for the first time strutting up and down that runway.”

You don't know when you reached out for him, but you realize your hand is gripping at the front of his t-shirt, and you're basically anchoring yourself, your fingers clutching at the soft fabric so your weak knees don't completely give out. A shudder rolls through your body, a gasp leaving your lips as he bends to slant his lips along yours. Instantly, his lips move hungrily with your own, your mouth easily acquiescing to his insistent tongue, opening with no resistance at all to allow his to tangle with yours.

You're practically panting when you two finally pull apart, air being a nasty necessity and all of that, and you wonder how after having a one year old and being married for two years, he still makes you feel knock-kneed and light-headed like he did when you were jet-setting here and there without a care in the world? Your only true concern at that time being whether you had packed enough underwear as he had this terrible habit of ripping them clean off you, having no patience when it came to getting his mouth and hands on every inch of you, inside and out.

No one told you it would still be like that years later, and everyone you knew seemed to say all the heat and sparks dimmed significantly after a baby was put in the mix.

But Richard seemed determined not to let that happen.

Before you could suggest Kit and Sadie taking Ruby and Jax to baby yoga so you could have your husband all to yourself – the heat pulsing low in your stomach was definitely getting to you – a tiny voice you'd never mind hearing came from the doorway, “Bubba,”

You couldn't stop the smile that spread across your lips at the sight of your little girl. Ruby Jaymes wasn't quite two yet, still having nearly six months to go for that milestone, but she was walking (stumbling, mostly) and talking (babbling, mostly) and while limited in both skills, you couldn't stop the pride welling inside at seeing her stand on her own, not at all wobbly.

“Bubba,” The word both she and Jax used instead of bottle, the little girl clearly having picked up the vernacular from the slightly older boy, was said louder this time and with a demanding edge. Though she inherited your strawberry blonde hair and green eyes, her pout was all Richard, especially when she thrust her larger bottom lip forward.

Before you could move, she was a giggling mess, having been swept into her father's strong arms as he tickled her softly round tummy and nuzzled her nose. “C'mon, sweet girl,” Gentle and light as he brushed her sleep-matted hair away from her vibrant green eyes. “Let's get you a bubba. Mummy has to get ready for yoga. She's having a play date with Auntie Sadie and you'll have one with me and Uncle Kit and Jax.”

“Jax? Play?” Her tiny voice was so hopeful and the happy squeal she let out when Richard told her yes, their voices fading as he continued down the hallway, made your heart flip.

~*~*~

“Yes!” You couldn't help the triumphant holler when Brandy finally texted you back that she would be ready in fifteen for yoga. It felt like a life time since the two of you had done anything together without Jax and Ruby tagging a long. Not that you didn't love your son and your god-daughter – you loved both so much sometimes it scared you, honestly – but the two of you needed to have time just to yourselves, you couldn't lose yourselves in the joy of being mothers. You were still women and even if you had to drag Brandy kicking and screaming, you would remind her.

“Yes!” You heard the familiar trill of your son's voice as he sat in his high chair, fingers dipping into his cinnamon flavored oatmeal. You couldn't help but laugh as he tried to stick his entire goop-covered fist into his mouth, slurping at the fingers that managed to fit. “Noooooooo,” You murmured, the word over-shadowed by your laughter at the oatmeal smeared across his chubby cheeks.

“Jax,” You scolded but there were the baby blues peering from the same ridiculously long lashes he inherited from Kit and you melted. He had your eyes and the dimple in your left cheek but everything else was all Christopher Catesby Harington, which made you think you'd let him get away with murder as long as he looked at you, all bashful and sheepish, the same way Kit would when he did something wrong.

“Mess,” He gigled slapping his hands together and just before he could reach out and touch your face, like he was want to do, you quickly plucked him out of his high chair and brought him to the kitchen sink. “Yes, you made a mess, but you won't turn Mummy into a mess.”

As you turned the faucet to lukewarm – so as not to scald his tiny hands – you felt the familiar rasp of a beard against your cheek along with the heady scent of spice and citrus invading your nose as a wall of nothing but warm, firm muscle became pressed against your back.

“No,” You heard, low and sensual in your ear. “It's Daddy's job to make a mess of Mummy,” and you swore your knees buckled as you jostled Jax in your arms, your hold suddenly not as secure as it was nearly a few moments before.

“Christopher,” You hissed, your cheeks flaring with heat that was quickly spreading throughout your entire body. Before he could continue, there was Jax's delighted yelp of, “Daddy,” and then there was a theatrical growl from Kit and you knew his hands were scrunched into 'claws' as he made his voice comically low while he grabbed for Jax saying, “No Daddies here only Jax eating monsters and this monster is very hungry, you see.”

“Daaaaaaddddddy,” A wail before howls of laughter break through as Kit savagely tickles him.

Briefly, as you watch your fiancee` and your son, you wonder if it's too late for you to cancel on Brandy. You know she'd be all too happy to say with Richard and Ruby just as you'd be about staying with Kit and Jax. You twist your lip between your teeth, huffing at how just seeing your boys together makes you turn to goo and you're about to reach for your phone when a large hand stops you.

“Don't,” Kit's voice is bordering on the kind of stern he only uses when his head's between your legs and his mouth is bringing you to the most blissful oblivion. “You've been trying to get Brandy to do something without Jax and Ruby for months. You'll have plenty of time for the three of us to lay about together. Soon they'll be in school and being chauferred by all of us around town for this practice and that recital and to go to so and so's house and birthday parties and the lot. You can't forget to be Sadie just because you're Jax's Mummy.”

There's a protest on your lips, so close to being let out when he bends to silence it in the most effective of ways, drawing your mouth into his. Even with your son in his arms – or maybe because your son is in his arms – the kiss grows heady and passionate as if a match was struck to an already smoldering ember.

You pull away first, panting, as you stare into his familiar deep eyes. His voice is low and rough, heat pinging all along your skin as he murmurs, “I quite like Sadie,” and there he goes humming the infamous Beatles tune your parents named you after.

He breathes the title, “sexy sadie,” against the glide of your neck and you don't know how you're standing, but you know he's right. You can't back out of your yoga session with Brandy. You're not just a Mom, but a woman as well. And thank God you've got a fiancee` who's all too happy to remind you.

~*~*~

“Are you sure you've...” Richard quickly cuts you off, laughing low under his breath while Ruby happily sucks on her binky in his arms, “I know all the emergency numbers, including your Mum's and yes I know how early it is in Davenport right now just like I know she'll pick up, anyway. You're going to yoga, not war, darling.”

Your eyes narrow into slits, your lips settling into a thin line, which he quickly kisses away. His forehead is pressed against yours as he tells you, softly, “Everything's going to be fine. This is isn't the first time you've been gone for an hour or two. Our little gem will be just as perfect when you come back.”

Before you can quiz him on what to do if she gets fussy before her nap, the doorbell rings and then rings again and again and both of you can hear a scolding hiss from Sadie on the other side, “Jax, stop it.”

Then there's Kit's easy laughter, “I think Uncle Rich and Auntie Brandy know we're here buddy.”

“Ruby!” You hear the toddler yelp and you can't stop the red velvet kind of warmth spreading through you. You forget about your irrational fears about leaving your daughter alone with her father and as soon as you open the door, you and Sadie fling yourselves at each other, hugging tightly. Yes, you did need this girl time, together, without the kids tagging along.

“We'll be back later,” She trills over her shoulder after both of you had said goodbye to Jax and Ruby, instructing them to be good and before you can change your mind, she's grabbed your hand and is dragging you out your front door. As you slide into the passenger side, you can't stop from giggling, “Were we telling Jax and Ruby to be good or the boys to be good?”

She giggles as well and both of you at the same time say, “The boys,” before she pulls away from the curb and begins the short drive to your favorite yoga studio.

~*~*~

“Alone at last,” Richard's tone is teasing but Kit knows he got the same lecture from Brandy that he got from Sadie. “They act as though we've never been alone with them before,” He shakes his head as he sets a squirming Jax on his feet who immediately makes a beeline for Ruby who is sitting on her play mat in the middle of the living room, touching her blocks. “I know we're not doing the day to day that they are, but we're not completely clueless.”

“Exactly.” The Scotsman agrees. “It's not as if we're dealing with two complete terrors, either. I was infinitly worse at this age than Ruby is. Sarah says she's just like Brandy was; quiet, easy. Cautiously curious I believe was the phrase.”

“Jax can be a little difficult,” Kit admits, fingers scrubbing through his curls. “But none of this terrible twos business your mates try to scare you about. Don't know why he's not a fan of naps, though. I couldn't get enough of those. Wish it was acceptable to nap about now,” He laughs, setting the houndstooth baby bag that accompanies the little rascal whenever he and Mum are out and about near the couch.

“We're going to be fine,” Richard states. “They'll play a little, soon it'll be nap time and they'll be rested for when the girls come home so they can relax.”

“Too right.”

Their plan of play a little and soon it will be nap time wasn't as full proof as they thought it was. It was a gorgeous day outside and Jax and Ruby began to get restless. “Ducks,” The little boy announced, climbing up his father's right leg. Ruby parroted the word, “Ducks,” and mimicked the little boy's movements as best she could with Richard's leg, though she fell back down quickly and that's when the floodgates opened.

Before Richard could even take a breath, her gem-toned eyes that matched her mother's began to water and then her mouth opened. The wail she let out was deafening to say the least. As if Jax could sense his playmate's distress, his own lip began to wobble and just as he began to sniffle, Kit scooped him up into his arms and began to rock him back and forth, hoping to quell the impending cry.

“Hey, sweet girl,” Richard cooed, cuddling Ruby close as she whimpered, her face buried in his neck. “It's all right. You're okay,” He assured, peppering her curls with kisses before he moved onto her red face that was wet with rolling tears. “You're okay.” He repeated again, until her tiny body finally stopped shaking.

“Peppa,” She whimpered, referring to her favorite stuffed animal. It was really the original way Piglet had been drawn by AA Milne, the whole set a gift from Emilia, but she insisted on calling the pig “Peppa,” for some reason. Lifting himself from the couch, Richard brought Ruby into her nursery to collect the animal, hoping just having the plush in her arms would calm her.

~*~*~

While Richard got Peppa for Ruby, Kit had pulled the stuffed Toothless out of Jax's baby bag. Though, Emilia would always tell Jax to say 'Rhaegal' whenever she came to visit her god-son, the little boy would just laugh and say, 'no, toothless, millie.’ The animal seemed to calm him, staving off the cries that would always make Kit fearful that he was bloody awful at fatherhood.

“Ducks,” The toddler stated, his chubby finger pointing at the bay window in the Madden's living room. Kit sighed, not sure he and Richard were at all prepared for what he knew Jax wanted. Though, they lived in the city, Sadie was determined their son was going to have a relationship with nature, as she had grown up on a farm that had been in her family for generations.

She loved London, but was a country girl at heart. Hence why Jax was asking for ducks. Kit knew as long as it wasn't rainy and wet, she took him to the park nearly every day and would pack a quick lunch and bring along lettuce and corn along with birdseed for the ducks at the pond.

“Ducks,” Ruby repeated the word as she and Richard emerged from her nursery and Kit knew he and Richard were sunk.

~*~*~

Getting the little girl ready was more of a challenge than either Kit or Richard would have thought. Normally she was as mild mannered as Richard had described earlier, but she seemed to fight her father at every turn. She insisted on not wanting to be dressed, squirming and slipping from his grasp, running as fast as her tubby legs could carry her, no longer seemingly distressed by stumbling and falling.

And when Kit would try himself, she would tug and pull at his curls, nearly tearing hairs out by the roots while Jax would laugh and she'd blink innocently up at her Uncle.

Nearly a half an hour later, she was ready. Not quite dressed in the way Richard knew Brandy would prefer her to be, but she wasn't in her pajamas anymore... Sort of. She was in a different pair and over the bottoms she had insisted on wearing the little pale pink tutu that had been one of the many gifts Richard's Mum had given her while she wore her brown Uggs on her feet, not wanting to wear sneakers or her the little flats she so adored whenever Brandy dressed her.

The Burberry baby bag that came with her everywhere was bursting, not as neatly packed like it always was when she and Mummy took trips around town, but Richard wasn't taking any chances. After the way she wailed and was almost inconsolable about falling earlier, he made sure to be prepared for any scenario that could arise. Nothing tore him up inside like seeing his little gem in such distress.

How long they had been tearing off pieces of lettuce from the head they grabbed from Richard's fridge, they didn't know, but the rain came fast and sudden. “Bloody hell,” Kit cursed, grabbing for Jax while Richard muttered several curses under his breath, scooping Ruby up quickly along with her baby bag. Neither child seemed to mind the sudden spring storm, happily squealing and opening their mouths to catch rain drops.

~*~*~

Not wanting them to end up sick, a warm bath was next on the agenda, which turned into a whole different adventure. Richard knew with how small Ruby still was, Brandy – for fun – would sometimes, especially in an instance like this (those spring storms that came out of nowhere that London was prone to), bathe her in the kitchen sink. He had come home plenty of times to find them – only the hair on his little gem's head being visible through the mountain of lavender scented bubbles – in the kitchen, sometimes the bubbles spilling onto the counter or even the floor.

Jax was all too happy to climb into the sink as well, except he did so before Kit could undress him, which made Ruby laugh and grab for her tutu that Richard had left on the counter.

“You two never do stuff like this for your Mummys do you?” Kit questioned, his eyes narrowing at the pair who were soaking in the sink. “No.” Jax chirped, shaking his head, his curls slinging water in every direction. “Mumma?” Ruby asked, her eyes darting all around the kitchen.

“No, Mumma,” Richard sighed, fingers carding through his hair. “Just Daddy and Uncle Kit.”

Kit had never been more thankful that Sadie had been the one to pack Jax's bag, instead of listening to him when he insisted that he could have, thank you very much. He never would have thought to put a change of clothes inside. After drying them off and nearly becoming soaked themselves, he and Richard sliced up a banana for Ruby who was just starting to have her baby teeth come in and an apple for Jax. They happily munched, feeding pieces to each other and them as well before their eyes began to droop.

~*~*~

And that's how you and Sadie found the four of them when they came home. It was later than they had expected, the yoga class having ended two hours before, but they couldn't resist getting a pedicure at the salon across the way from the studio.

“Sorry, we're...” Your voice trailed away at the sight that greeted you in the living room. Sadie nearly stumbled into your back because you had stopped walking so abruptly. “Oh my,” She whispered, light giggle underneath her voice.

Wearing her unicorn bathrobe and laying across your husband's chest was Ruby, both of them snoring softly, without a care in the world. Next to them were Kit and Jax. Kit was sprawled across the couch, his arm that did not have Jax secure against his chest, in Richard's face while the little boy was wearing his favorite pair of blue and white striped pajamas.

“Looks like they had a big day,” You murmured, unable to hide the snicker in your voice. “They sure did,” Sadie murmured back, struggling not to outright laugh. Both of you knew you didn't mean Ruby and Jax, like before you were definitely talking about Richard and Kit.

#richard madden x you #richard madden x reader #dad!richard madden #kit harington x you #kit harington x reader #dad!kit harington #fluff #richard madden fanfiction #kit harington fanfiction

[m00nslippers]

Bizarro and Artemis are back, in RHATO Annual #3

I’m back with a review of the RHATO annual #3 and it is so good to see Biz and Artemis again. I think we’ve all missed them. Hopefully this issue heralds their triumphant return in the next arc (after the one this is previewing), but let’s get into this.

We get a preview of the upcoming arc that we know involves Lex Luthor recruiting Jason to teach a bunch of kids how to be villains...or something. I’m sure we’ll figure out more in the new issues coming up. I highly doubt that’s all there is to it. I think it’s pretty obvious that Jason isn’t on the side of villains or creating more villains even if he isn’t strictly a hero. So I’m guessing there is some subterfuge involved in his plan and possibly Lex is trying to influence him a bit, maybe holding the fact that he helped Bizarro over his head, something like that. I think it’s most likely that he’s investigating Lex while pretending to work for him and teach in his villain school while secretly teaching all the kids values and whatnot. That would be cute, anyway.

I have to point out this moment though, because I’m not sure how I feel about it. Basically this kid can sense/contact people who are dead but it’s mentally or physically painful, but Jason asks him to do it anyway. Yeah, he expects that it won’t work and therefore not hurt because he thinks Artemis and Bizarro aren’t dead, and also the pain might be minor and finding out if someone is dead or alive is pretty important, worth some mild discomfort even to a child, but I don’t really like the attitude he has when saying, “I’m not asking.” I think he must be playing up/pretending he’s villainous because otherwise that seems pretty out of character for him. He’s generally straight forward but kind to children, animals and non-normative people (like Biz). So I’m kind of assuming he’s acting this way because of circumstances we are going to find out more about in the next issue. Basically the take away from the interaction is that Biz and Artemis are not dead.

So it picks up 6 months before the events of Jason talking to the kid. What this means is that between issue #25 of RHATO and upcoming issue #37, 6 months have elapsed, which seems reasonable. I’ve head-canoned Jason’s current age at 22 and I think this time frame supports that idea (there is reason to believe he was 21 in the Eternal comics).

Also, Artemis and Bizarro are clearly alive and in an alternate dimension where the Hall of Justice has been defaced and renamed “the Hall of Punishment” and is a ‘museum’, with the Justice League dead and disrespected. Everyone, even Superman.

As it turns out, the world is like this because of some bomb which made regular humans metas and metas regular humans, so most of the Justice League immediately became helpless without their abilities to almost everyone around them who now had meta abilities. What this means for people like Jason and the bats in this world who didn’t have powers to begin with is a real question, but not one we get answered. Basically, humans who now had powers and felt resentful of heroes who had originally had powers, took it out on the former heroes, hunting them down and putting them into camps where they eventually died. Which...okay, people are jerks so it seems reasonable that once they had powers some people would find any and every excuse to beat up on people who made them feel weak before so this isn’t a completely stupid basis for an alternate dystopia.

After it’s established that Artemis doesn’t have access to Mistress (or presumably the Bow of Ra) because she can’t call her weapon across universes--which seems reasonable--we get introduced to a few one-off villains.

And like...the moment I saw these guys I shook my head because they are just classic Lobdell-type villains. Flat, corny, names are puny as hell, your stereotypical comic book villains. I’m not knocking it, they are fine for minor villains that only exist for a one shot, at least they are kind of memorable for being so ridiculous, I’m just mildly amused at their everything. One guy is some kind of discount horror-villain butcher character that you can’t understand called Butcher Block, another is a freaking Pop-Eye-esque Milk Man called DAIRY KING because of course he is, and there’s a pigish cop and a chick in a Carebear shirt who holds her hand like an air phone and goes by the name ‘Air Quote’. And the fiery butterfly chick who looks like the love-child of Firefly and Bumblebee. There are just...no words. I just can’t even, you guys.

Along the way on their adventures they meet a guy calling himself Jack Knife who is part of the resistance against the normal people with super powers who made the world all dystopian and messed-up and didn’t agree with people killing former heroes in camps. Also, he is very clearly this universe’s Joker. I haven’t seen anyone mention this, but I’m not crazy here, right? Like, this is as obvious as I think it is, isn’t it? The guy’s name is Jack Knife, so his name is Jack, like Jack Napier, the Joker’s identity in many iterations of him. He has this long, sharp face with a crazy chin and wide mouth, is a bit of a wise-cracker and he wears a purple waistcoat and a green tie and a yellow shirt and has a flower in his lapel--like the Joker-- and uses pistols and knives, like...this guy is clearly the freaking Joker over here!

I can only assume Jason has not filled Artemis or Biz in on his issues with the Joker--which would be pretty in-character for Jay--or at the very least they have never seen him and don’t recognize him because this team up would have been over before it started if they had. They might still have went along with him, since this is a different guy, but they would have been suspicious.

Also, Jack doesn’t seem to have any powers...meaning he had powers before ‘hero day’ when metas lost their powers and norms gained powers...meaning the Joker is a meta. So that’s a thing. The reason the Joker is so wily and weird and doesn’t seem to die or age is because he’s a meta, you guys. You heard it here.

So we get the ‘6 months later’ flash forward and Artemis and BIzarro are working as part of the resistance along with the Flutterby girl seems to have defected in the time skip. Arty and Biz have gone native with some awesome, in my opinion, costume changes. Biz has a beard and muscle shirt and like...latex pants or something, which I am super into for some reason, and Artemis has your stereotypical punk haircut with the shaved head. It’s kind of an overdone design but I can’t lie, I think it works for her, she rocks it.

But even more importantly there’s this awesome interaction between Biz and Flutterby where Biz shows just how much he listens and values and still remembers Jason even after all this time. Their bond is just so strong, even now. Biz stops the girl from killing someone, remembering Jason’s values, which just drives home the fallacy that Jason just kills all criminals. No, Jason thinks for some people, the cost of leaving them alive outweighs the moral price of killing them. It’s a thing you have to do sometimes, something you are sometimes morally obligated to do in his opinion, but not a first resort. That’s what he taught Biz and Bizarro is teaching Flutterby. But he also taught Biz that sometimes you gotta get even, so he lets her give the guy some revenge knocks too, heh. Oh Biz, you’re a chip off the old block. Jay would be proud.

As this is happening, Jack Knife and Artemis are being held ‘prisoner’ (turns out it’s all part of their plan) by...General Samuel Lane?! Yeah, Lois’s dad. I don’t know much about him, I haven’t read anything with him in it, but I guess he’s kind of an on-the-fence secret-service type usually, like Amanda Waller, but seeing him as an outright villain is a bit surprising to me. There is probably no relation, but Lane has also cropped up in the recent Leviathan Event where everyone, seems to think Jason is Leviathan (I don’t, but we’ll see I guess.) I just thought that was interesting. There’s not mention of Lois but there IS mention of...

Lex-fucking-Luthor. Who is apparently a big, nasty head-brain monster, like MODOK or something now. Apparently the meta bomb was his brain-child (heh) and he’s surprisingly okay with the outcome that he’s a giant head that gets around via fork-lift and the world is messed-up. In fact, he and Lane are itching to drop one on Artemis and BIz’s world too! Which they can do, because Luthor--or more likely some minion, I mean he doesn’t have hands anymore--went around collecting the splinters of the doorway which Bizarro and Artemis originally went through to get to this universe.

As the resistance springs their trap Bizarro calls everyone Outlaws which warms my heart. The Outlaws isn’t the same without Biz and Artemis (or Star and Roy), Red Hood is an outlaw, sure, but the team is what made it special, made it something other than Jason just trying to right the wrongs he thinks the other heroes are letting slide because they won’t get their hands dirty. They are better together.

And so in this comic we see an example of the Outlaws sparing some criminals and them outright killing one when Artemis straight-up murders Lex Luthor, hell yes. The guy was just a nasty psychic brain on a fork-lift anyway, it was probably a mercy kill. And then Biz and Artemis jump through the doorway and hopefully end up...home?

This issue was pretty straight forward, just a one-off side story to explain where Biz and Artemis have been, nothing revolutionary. The art was pretty good, though there are a few panels at the beginning where Artemis has really weird expressions. I really enjoyed Biz and Artemis’s costume change, I hope they stick with something like it when they do meet back up with Jason eventually. Two things stood out to me. One, that Biz and Artemis, despite probably only being with Jason a shorter amount of time than they actually ended up spending apart, clearly hold Jason and the Outlaws very dear and are keeping The Outlaws and everything it stood for alive. It’s so wonderful to see someone in the goddamn DC Universe loves and appreciates Jason like he deserves. They can’t return fast enough, IMO, but I don’t think they will drop back into the story until the very end or just after this upcoming arc with Lex Luthor.

The other thing that stood out to me...was the freaking alt-Joker on the Outlaws team! What?! Like I’m not mad or happy, I’m just...what!? I don’t know how to feel. I like this version of the Joker but that in no way makes me not want to perform intimate torture on the main world’s Joker and see him die a cruel, painful death. I still want that very much. Can’t wait until the next issue, happily we only have to wait about two weeks I think. I so here for it.

#Red Hood And The Outlaws #Annual 3 #Scott Lobdell #jason todd #red hood #Artemis Of Bana-Mighdall #Artemis Grace #Bizarro #Biz #Jack Knife #The Joker #Jack knife is the Joker why is no one talking about this?! #The Joker is a meta human #dc comics #I miss Artemis and Bizarro so much #Lex Luthor #He's basically MODOK now #Colonel Samuel Lane

[ozarkhealingtraditions]

From the Archives: The Razorback

Across the world, the wild boar and feral pig (two distinct critters though often overlapping in legend) have been scaring hunters shitless for centuries. As a fiercely aggressive animal it’s no wonder there are so many legends surrounding the beast. Ozarkers inherited much of their razorback lore from their Appalachian ancestors, who most likely their tales over with them from Europe. There are very few indigenous tales and beliefs surrounding the wild pig and wild boar, as they are not native to the Americas, and were introduced by the Spanish in the 16th century. Often indigenous stories of bear hunts merged with wild pig hunts after introduction to North America as the two animals were both famously feared by hunters. Across Europe, however, there are tons of legends about the fierceness of boars and the danger of boar hunts. The animal almost reached the status of deity for many people, rightly so, early on in our history when on the boar hunt it’s the decisions of boar that determines whether or not you die. There are two different Stone Age European burial sites that include boar tusks as a part of the grave goods, showing the spiritual importance of the animal to our ancestors. One is the Bad Dürrenberg grave, the other is at Upton Lovell. Often the hero of a legend will need to face off with a boar in order to continue their quest, as in the Welsh tale from the Mabinogion where Culhwch seeks to win the hand of his beloved Olwen. Olwen’s father, Ysbaddaden, is a giant who issues Culhwch with a lengthy list of ridiculously difficult tasks to fulfill before he can marry Olwen. The final tasks are to cut Ysbaddaden’s hair and shave off his beard. The giant’s beard was so tough that to soften it Culhwch had to obtain the blood of the Black Witch. And the only thing sharp enough to cut the beard was the tusk of the wild boar Ysgithyrwn. After killing this boar, Culhwch (with help from his cousin Arthur), had to get the only scissors and comb up to the task of dealing with the giant’s hair. These just happened to be between the ears of Twrch Trwth, an Irish king who had been transformed into an irate boar with poisonous bristles. In Greek mythology killing the mythic Erymanthian Boar was one of the Twelve Labors of Hercules. In Norse mythology the golden-bristled boar Gullinbursti was friend to the god Freyr:

“Sindri laid a pigskin in the hearth and bade Brokkr blow, and did not cease work until he took out of the hearth that which he had laid therein. But when he went out of the smithy, while the other dwarf was blowing, straightway a fly settled upon his hand and stung: yet he blew on as before, until the smith took the work out of the hearth; and it was a boar, with mane and bristles of gold. … Then Brokkr brought forward his gifts: … to Freyr he gave the boar, saying that it could run through air and water better than any horse, and it could never become so dark with night or gloom of the Murky Regions that there should not be sufficient light where he went, such was the glow from its mane and bristles.” In the Appalachian and Ozark mountains tales about pig or razorback hunts abound. It seems like every hunter has a story about the pig that nearly killed him. Usually these stories are recounted in great detail around a big fire, slowly cooking the very pig in the story. In one story the razorback even merges with the European bogeyman named “Bloody Bones”. Here’s the story as retold by S.E. Schlosser: Way back in the deep woods there lived a scrawny old woman who had a reputation for being the best conjuring woman in the Ozarks. With her bedraggled black-and-gray hair, funny eyes – one yellow and one green – and her crooked nose, Old Betty was not a pretty picture, but she was the best there was at fixing what ailed a man, and that was all that counted. Old Betty’s house was full of herbs and roots and bottles filled with conjuring medicine. The walls were lined with strange books brimming with magical spells. Old Betty was the only one living in the Hollow who knew how to read; her granny, who was also a conjurer, had taught her the skill as part of her magical training. Just about the only friend Old Betty had was a tough, mean, ugly old razorback hog that ran wild around her place. It rooted so much in her kitchen garbage that all the leftover spells started affecting it. Some folks swore up and down that the old razorback hog sometimes walked upright like man. One fellow claimed he’d seen the pig sitting in the rocker on Old Betty’s porch, chattering away to her while she stewed up some potions in the kitchen, but everyone discounted that story on account of the fellow who told it was a little too fond of moonshine. “Raw Head” was the name Old Betty gave the razorback, referring maybe to the way the ugly creature looked a bit like some of the dead pigs come butchering time down in Hog-Scald Hollow. The razorback didn’t mind the funny name. Raw Head kept following Old Betty around her little cabin and rooting up the kitchen leftovers. He’d even walk to town with her when she came to the local mercantile to sell her home remedies. Well, folks in town got so used to seeing Raw Head and Old Betty around the town that it looked mighty strange one day around hog-driving time when Old Betty came to the mercantile without him. “Where’s Raw Head?” the owner asked as he accepted her basket full of home-remedy potions. The liquid in the bottles swished in an agitate manner as Old Betty said: “I ain’t seen him around today, and I’m mighty worried. You seen him here in town?” “Nobody’s seen him around today. They would’ve told me if they did,” the mercantile owner said. “We’ll keep a lookout fer you.” “That’s mighty kind of you. If you see him, tell him to come home straightaway,” Old Betty said. The mercantile owner nodded agreement as he handed over her weekly pay. Old Betty fussed to herself all the way home. It wasn’t like Raw Head to disappear, especially not the day they went to town. The man at the mercantile always saved the best scraps for the mean old razorback, and Raw Head never missed a visit. When the old conjuring woman got home, she mixed up a potion and poured it onto a flat plate. “Where’s that old hog got to?” she asked the liquid. It clouded over and then a series of pictures formed. First, Old Betty saw the good-for-nothing hunter that lived on the next ridge sneaking around the forest, rounding up razorback hogs that didn’t belong to him. One of the hogs was Raw Head. Then she saw him taking the hogs down to Hog-Scald Hollow, where folks from the next town were slaughtering their razorbacks. Then she saw her hog, Raw Head, slaughtered with the rest of the pigs and hung up for gutting. The final picture in the liquid was the pile of bloody bones that had once been her hog, and his scraped-clean head lying with the other hogsheads in a pile. Old Betty was infuriated by the death of her only friend. It was murder to her, plain and simple. Everyone in three counties knew that Raw Head was her friend, and that lazy, hog-stealing, good-for-nothing hunter on the ridge was going to pay for slaughtering him.

Now Old Betty tried to practice white conjuring most of the time, but she knew the dark secrets too. She pulled out an old, secret book her granny had given her and turned to the very last page. She lit several candles and put them around the plate containing the liquid picture of Raw Head and his bloody bones. Then she began to chant: “Raw Head and Bloody Bones. Raw Head and Bloody Bones.” The light from the windows disappeared as if the sun had been snuffed out like a candle. Dark clouds billowed into the clearing where Old Betty’s cabin stood, and the howl of dark spirits could be heard in the wind that pummeled the treetops. “Raw Head and Bloody Bones. Raw Head and Bloody Bones.” Betty continued the chant until a bolt of silver lightning left the plate and streaked out threw the window, heading in the direction of Hog-Scald Hollow. When the silver light struck Raw Head’s severed head, which was piled on the hunter’s wagon with the other hog heads, it tumbled to the ground and rolled until it was touching the bloody bones that had once inhabited its body. As the hunter’s wagon rumbled away toward the ridge where he lived, the enchanted Raw Head called out: “Bloody bones, get up and dance!” Immediately, the bloody bones reassembled themselves into the skeleton of a razorback hog walking upright, as Raw Head had often done when he was alone with Old Betty. The head hopped on top of his skeleton and Raw Head went searching through the woods for weapons to use against the hunter. He borrowed the sharp teeth of a dying panther, the claws of a long-dead bear, and the tail from a rotting raccoon and put them over his skinned head and bloody bones. Then Raw Head headed up the track toward the ridge, looking for the hunter who had slaughtered him. Raw Head slipped passed the thief on the road and slid into the barn where the hunter kept his horse and wagon. Raw Head climbed up into the loft and waited for the hunter to come home. It was dusk when the hunter drove into the barn and unhitched his horse. The horse snorted in fear, sensing the presence of Raw Head in the loft. Wondering what was disturbing his usually-calm horse, the hunter looked around and saw a large pair of eyes staring down at him from the darkness in the loft. The hunter frowned, thinking it was one of the local kids fooling around in his barn. “Land o’ Goshen, what have you got those big eyes fer?” he snapped, thinking the kids were trying to scare him with some crazy mask. “To see your grave,” Raw Head rumbled very softly. The hunter snorted irritably and put his horse into the stall. “Very funny. Ha,ha,” The hunter said. When he came out of the stall, he saw Raw Head had crept forward a bit further. Now his luminous yellow eyes and his bears claws could clearly be seen. “Land o’ Goshen, what have you got those big claws fer?” he snapped. “You look ridiculous.” “To dig your grave…” Raw Head intoned softly, his voice a deep rumble that raised the hairs on the back of the hunter’s neck. He stirred uneasily, not sure how the crazy kid in his loft could have made such a scary sound. If it really was a crazy kid. Feeling a little spooked, he hurried to the door and let himself out of the barn. Raw Head slipped out of the loft and climbed down the side of the barn behind him. With nary a rustle to reveal his presence, Raw Head raced through the trees and up the path to a large, moonlight rock. He hid in the shadow of the huge stone so that the only things showing were his gleaming yellow eyes, his bear claws, and his raccoon tail. When the hunter came level with the rock on the side of the path, he gave a startled yelp. Staring at Raw Head, he gasped: “You nearly knocked the heart right out of me, you crazy kid! Land o’ Goshen, what have you got that crazy tail fer?” “To sweep your grave…” Raw Head boomed, his enchanted voice echoing through the woods, getting louder and louder with each echo. The hunter took to his heels and ran for his cabin. He raced passed the old well-house, passed the wood pile, over the rotting fence and into his yard. But Raw Head was faster. When the hunter reached his porch, Raw Head leapt from the shadows and loomed above him. The hunter stared in terror up at Raw Head’s gleaming yellow eyes in the ugly razorback hogshead, his bloody bone skeleton with its long bear claws, sweeping raccoon’s tail and his gleaming sharp panther teeth. “Land o’ Goshen, what have you got those big teeth fer?” he gasped desperately, stumbling backwards from the terrible figure before him. “To eat you up, like you wanted to eat me!” Raw Head roared, descending upon the good-for-nothing hunter. The murdering thief gave one long scream in the moonlight. Then there was silence, and the sound of crunching. Nothing more was ever seen or heard of the lazy hunter who lived on the ridge. His horse also disappeared that night. But sometimes folks would see Raw Head roaming through the forest in the company of his friend Old Betty. And once a month, on the night of the full moon, Raw Head would ride the hunter’s horse through town, wearing the old man’s blue overalls over his bloody bones with a hole cut-out for his raccoon tail. In his bloody, bear-clawed hands, he carried his raw, razorback hogshead, lifting it high against the full moon for everyone to see. Just the other day I even found a poem about the fabled Arkansas razorback from journalist and poet Fred W. Allsopp: ​ Folks talk about the Razor-back In terms of deep derision. The porcine is a crack-a-jack, If you rate my decision. He walks away a suckling pig, And gambles in the woods; He finds ripe mast and worms will dig In fertile neighborhoods. Dogs find him nimble as the fleas. He seldom needs be fed; His simple life precludes the ease That kills the thoroughbred. When hick’ry nuts and acorns fail To fall upon the ground, His sides and snout the trees assail And shake nuts all around. In six months by the almanac, Unless corralled before, Returns to us a razor-back, Four hundred pounds or more. A little corn mixed with his swill Will soon the hog prepare To grace the farmer’s autumn kill And stock the smoke-house bare. Rich sausages to fill a vat The sweetest hams e’er eaten, With steaks of red and lumps of fat In side-meat never beaten. Let folks speak of the Razor-back In terms of deep derision, But that he is crack-a-jack Is still my ripe decision.

#ozarks #traditional witchcraft #folk magic #folklore #Ozark Folklore #ozark folk magic #ozark folkways #ozark folk medicine #traditional healing #traditional medicine #razorback #feral hog #ozark healing traditions

[hayesit]

matt’s 2019 year in review

here it is! and it’s late because i had other/better things to do (and procrastinating), was recovering from hangovers (also procrastinating), and recovering from being sick (procrastinating).

i’ve been doing these year in review posts since 2016, so here is my fourth installment. every year i look back through my google calendar, my camera roll, and my bullet journal as a gratitude exercise and to chart my own development as an adult. 

here is my spotify wrapped 2019!

the beginning of this year was off to a good start: i met two friends that i know through the internet! i met my friend riley when she visited boston (i met her through a mutual friend and through overwatch league twitter) and my friend jimmy that i’ve known for…. 6 or 7 years (?!) through tumblr and designed the logo for me and alex’s late podcast, hardly tea, may she rest in peace. 

i moved dorm rooms in between the fall and spring semester, and once again i was not happy with where i lived. i lived with 4 rando’s that i was placed with and the 5 of us barely even talked with each other. my direct roommate i saw for only two weeks, and for the nights he slept over in the bed (that he was paying room and board for) and had the worst snoring humanly possible that not even earplugs could kill (video below). i hardly slept while he was there and roamed the halls of riverview suites like a ghost due to the anxiety i felt about my lack of sleep (we love a vicious circle)! he disappeared after those two weeks without notice and i lived in fear of him returning for the rest of the semester (which he didn’t), but returned to my normal sleep schedule. 

that semester was my first semester of full-time grad school. i got a poor grade on an assignment that had a note from the professor that said she knew i could do better and it hit me how much different grad school is from undergrad and how much more effort and dedication it requires. after crying in my professor’s office, my work ethic has improved since then, but it’s not anywhere near where i’d like it to be (more on that later). 

now to more positive things for the spring semester: i met some friends that semester both ~on and offline~ that made the semester far more bearable AND i did however truly pop off in every last one of my powerpoint presentations for class. i looooove making powerpoints and just fuckin telling jokes about my research topic and have ppl tell me that they are looking forward to my presentation & that i should teach college classes :)!

me and 4 friends had a social group in which we’d drink and play board games and forget about the board game and drunkenly talk shit called cabam after all our first initials! i always looked forward to that and dug the group chemistry a lot.

during this semester i grew a   “ beard “, otherwise known as i chose not to shave just to  “ see what would happen “ (praythatitfilledin). sorry about that!

the overwatch league was something that i had to look forward to watch every week and i had my experience enhanced through sideshow and avast’s unofficial companion streams, which guaranteed lots of laughs. i have bought tickets to two boston home games in 2020 which i am very excited about! analysts have predicted boston to be in 20th place this year (there are 20 teams) but i’m still excited for the 2020 season anyway!!

i can’t have a year-in-review of 2019 without mentioning game of thrones. due to the show’s final season being undeniably weak, i enjoyed the camaraderie with the other people that watched thrones during those six weeks. i haven’t thought about the show or its universe for quite a while, unfortunately. i truly was quite into the world of westeros, but the weakness of the end of the story cheapened the journey of each of the characters, in a way. such a shame.

while i got my diploma in december 2018, i walked across the stage of umass lowell’s tsongas arena with my bachelor of arts in psychology (and minor in theatre arts). it wasn’t as emotional or triumphant of an experience and just felt weird, considering i had already gotten my diploma and was going to remain in the clutches of rowdy the riverhawk as i am staying for my masters degree in applied behavior analysis/autism studies. i brought a ceramic monkey to graduation. it didn’t have any symbolism, but i just wanted to see if they’d stop me (which they didn’t)

 this summer was better than most summers of mine go, i hung out with alex nearly every weekend, got my very first iphone, and got a data plan. the combination of these three things got me back into playing pokemon go, an unexpectedly fun pastime! went on lots of walks!

my favorite day of summer was going to a lake with alex and our friend gianna, who i grew closer to after meeting her during macbeth last year. fond 2019 memories with gianna include: doing simulation patients with her, watching movies with her and alex, and the halloween party. what a great gd person and a great gd friend! big fan and eternally rooting for her. 

fire emblem: three houses came out on the switch in august and is, without a doubt, my game of the year. there’s truly so much to love about the game: the world, the characters, new changes made to the series, things that were gone but returned, interesting micromanaging, and best of all, how huge my brain feels when playing it. 

i got a 6-week summer job as a paraprofessional at an extended-school-year program for children with developmental disabilities at a preschool in haverhill which taught me a lot of lessons, such as: i hate cleaning shit off of children.

then i had feelings that didn’t make much sense for about a month! whoops!

my full-time job i currently have is working at my old high school as a behavior specialist. i provide consultation and work on programs to lead to more appropriate behavior in students, primarily ones with developmental disabilities. so far it’s been fairly rewarding, some days are more challenging than others, some days are a lot of sitting in meetings, and some days are a lot of running around. some days there is not much to do at all, which has its obvious upsides and downsides. working at the high school isn’t something that i want to do forever, but it’s a good place to start with. i’m definitely learning a lot and there are a lot of benefits to working here. sometimes i can work on my grad school work (which is all online until the 2020 summer semester) which is definitely huge. and my commute is either a 15 minute walk or 3 minutes if my mom drives me! 

a ~complex~ thing about working in my hometown is that it makes the most financial sense to live at home because it’s so close to work. this is my first time living at home full-time since high school and i’m not enjoying that part too much. most weekends i visit alex in lowell, but being stuck at home with no car (going to retake the license test in the spring when the ice melts!) and having to go to bed so early definitely hurts. sure, i have what is likely the lowest amount of expenses i’ll ever have in my life (no car-related payments, no rent, no groceries), but i feel landlocked. i feel like a teenager with minimal freedom, which is in part because my mom doesn’t quite understand yet that i’m a 22 year-old that should have a lot more freedom than i do now. the most i really do on weekdays after work gets out (2:30p) is go to savers with my mom if it’s tuesday (senior citizen day), maybe go for a walk if it’s nice out (which for most of the school year, it isn’t), or be on the computer watching bon appetit videos and playing overwatch, fire emblem, or pokemon, eat a bland dinner at 6, go to bed at around 9:30. sad! truly not a situation that i want to be trapped in that much that much longer!

i think the best and most important part of this year was becoming closer with alex. as i mentioned before, we see each other most weekends, to our great benefit. our living situations have flip-flopped, with me living at home and alex living in an apartment near campus, which in both similar and different ways have taken their respective tolls on us. having each other while going through changes and stagnations in our lives has been immeasurably important. thank you alex for providing a place to be myself other than my own head. thank you for being my best friend. 

now i come to the thing that i’m most excited about for 2020. not 2 suck my own horn but i have cobbled together a fuckin dream team of five friends (me, alex, chris, kelly, and molly). the two times we have all gotten together it has been so satisfying in such a wonderful and otherworldly way that i am filled to the brim of happiness being around them. the craziest thing is that i met chris and kelly through twitter! TWITTER. and they’re real-ass people and my real-ass friends! i haven’t been so pleased with something in my life like this for so long and it feels so good to have adult friends that i have chosen rather than friends by circumstance. it’s truly a crime that we can’t see each other more often, but we already have a day picked out for the next time we all do something together. feeling emotional writing this paragraph bc i love me gd friends so much!

there is a lot of uncertainty about this new year for me. i sure as fuck don’t want to live at home more than i have to but don’t know where to go, my practicum class starts for me this summer which means i’ll most likely have to change jobs (fine by me, but will be exhausting), i recently began my search for therapists and hope to find one soon to help me ~unpack things~, my thesis begins in the fall semester and i don’t know what to do for it, and i’m not 100% dead-set on working in special education. it’s been hard transitioning from living on campus and going to school full-time to the life i have now. 

#year in review #personal

[jayne-hecate-writer]

The Dark Side Rises...

I love to watch cosplayers on Youtube, where such luminaries as Adam Savage are inspirational but can provoke the dark side with envy of his access to a machine shop, original props for photos and friends in the movie business.

Let's face it, Adam Savage is the Holy Grail of replica prop building, and he does inspire with the fullness of his heart that other makers follow their hearts and build too. That leads other people into getting their hands dirty and in time they too become leaders in their fields as they show the skills they are developing and designs they have for fabulous replica props from our favourite movie universes. One of the best of these is one I have mentioned before and that is Dan of Buckethead Props, whose gentle fun videos are always inspirational and still show that we can make this stuff at home, with out needing access to a five axis CNC lathe! This is not to say that his stuff is poor quality, if anything the exact opposite is true, his stuff is brilliant and well beyond what I can produce, but he does inspire still.

Recently, Buckethead Props reached a milestone in Youtube subscribers and to celebrate this, they have set up a Lightsabre build challenge and for once, I have decided to give it a go.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z50gt9TTz3w

The rules are very simple, do what ever you like, but you have a budget of only £20. This was something that I thought about at first and then rejected, but the more I thought about it, the more I wanted to take part in it. A quick comment on his video saw Dan reply with a bit of gentle encouragement to his viewers and I set about designing my sabre.

There are some things I want in a sabre and obviously it has to be Dark Side, which means a red Crystal and red Blade. However, I am also a Rebels fan, so I want a sabre that will fit into their world. That leaves me the sabre of the Inquisitors, of Maul or even Vader himself, but none of them appeal, so I got thinking...

“What would have happened if Ezra had turned to the Dark Side and gone with Maul on Malachor?”

To go down this path, Ezra would have turned his back on Kanan and after Maul had blinded him it is likely that Ezra may have even killed his old master, taking his sabre. Becoming Maul's apprentice in the Darkside, it is possible that they would have followed the rules of the Sith as set out by Darth Bane and eventually when Maul had taught him as much as he could, Ezra would have murdered Maul too.

I call this sabre the Dark Ezra...

As a disabled person, money is tight and the budget of £20 was a big bite out of my monthly spending, especially given that this was effectively to be spent on something that may not even work. So I set about finding as many recyclable materials as possible and with some bits already in stock, I only had six things to purchase for it. The first item I bought was a cheap LED torch for £1.99 and a set of cheap and very low quality bicycle lights from The Range for £3.99. I wanted to fit a sound module for a light sabre and found a cheap child's toy on Amazon for £4.99. I purchased a steel bolt for a few pence from our local engineers suppliers. I also purchased a solar powered garden light for under a pound. The last (or rather the first, although I did not know it at the time) thing  was a toy pistol from Poundland, however I bought this for a costume about five years ago and I have no idea if these are still available and this was used for the sound board again.

My first task was to set about the wiring, taking the lights apart and dismantling the toy sabre too, before I attacked them with my soldering iron. Which resulted in my first major mistake when attaching batteries to the sword sound module and turned the main chip to ash. That was £4.99 wasted and left me feeling annoyed with myself, for attaching the leads the wrong way around. This was despite photographing the board so that I could see the wiring.

Putting the wiring to the side for a while, I set about constructing the chassis of the sabre and it was here that I really wanted a blaster built into the hilt, just like Ezra's first sabre. I had some old wood in the scrap pile, purchased months and years before to build a cage for our pet owl... More on her later. The scraps of wood were from the cheapest wood we could use to build the cage, unfinished beams for holding up plasterboard, cheap off cuts and recycled bits from the shed. This left me with two small offcuts, a piece of 30x75mm and a piece of 30x30mm. Using chisels and a craft knife, I took the corners off of the 30x30 for the handle, turning it into a lovely octagonal shape that fitted beautifully into my hand. I also hollowed out the other piece of wood to allow for the fitting of a crystal and the electronics.

It has been many years since I last used woodworking tools and I now bare the scars of trying to use such fine tools, with hands damaged by arthritis caused by years of extreme sport. What would have taken an accomplished woodworker no more than an hour or so, took me three fabulously enjoyable days, despite the damage I did to myself! The mess was delicious with wood shavings everywhere and the grin on my face was worth every second of it even when it came time to clean up the mess I had made. With the wood sanded back I set about finding some recyclable items that I could use and the first thing to hack apart was some broken 1990s Sony Hi-Fi equipment, from which I salvaged some micro-switches and a lot of thin, nasty cables. I did think about using the laser from the CD drive, but I was worried that I could blind someone with it, if I ever managed to make the driver work. With that idea scrapped, I salvaged some very old LEDs (which I never used in the end) and some buttons and dials that could have made some interesting greeblies. I was given some offcuts from from a plumbing job, none of which were of use to a plumber. I had some screws that came from the Hi-Fi and some strips of plastic that I could cut up. I did think about using the circuit boards, but the Hi-Fi kit was very old and dusty and frankly the resistors were almost the same size as my sound modules! The majority of this thing was going to be built from second hand junk and scrap.

The handle was perfect to hide the battery compartment and the torch came with three AAA batteries, which are the cheapest nastiest calls I have ever seen, but given that they cost me nothing, I used them. The bolt became the positive terminal and using parts from the HI-Fi I was able to make the negative terminal in the handle. I used old cables to run the power to the crystal chamber and then I had to make the crystal.

The Crystal was a challenge, I wanted something red that would emit red light and all I had were a set of bicycle lights, until I damaged another board with my soldering iron. This was the board that ran the rear light, which was a small strip of red LEDs powered by two AAA cells. I wanted to extend the LEDs from the board into the crystal chamber, but a momentary switch started giving me problems and I almost gave up with the idea, until I decided that the crystal from the garden light worked a lot better. A white LED from the front light gave the blade aperture a nice red glow when coated with glass paint and the LED from the torch attached to the sound board from the toy pistol gave me a blaster effect that I really enjoyed. With no further electronics needed, it just needed to be put together and soldered into place...

I very nearly buggered it all up when I got confused with my wiring and after a couple of days of sulking (resting from the flu), I worked it out and set it all in place, carefully covered up and with the speaker from the pistol making the appropriate pew pew noises from out of the side of the blaster. The LED from the torch shone out through the small barrel that I had drilled into the wood and capped with the bezel of the torch.

I wanted to paint the sabre, but I also wanted it to look beaten up and well used, so I wrapped it with a small piece of ASDA tin foil and painted on top of that with no undercoat. Once the paint had dried, I was able to scratch it and make it look aged and used, especially once I had applied a bit of weathering too. I should also add that given that I had bought the toy sabre for the sound board, which I broke, I still had to use a bit of it to make the expense worthwhile. So I chopped the top off the damn thing, which turned out to be made from the cheapest plastic going. Given how much this thing cost me, I had expected a little better from it, but such is the way when you buy the cheapest shit on Amazon. Again this was painted, weathered and made to look manky.

I used the body of the front light to make the end of the handle and cover up the engineering bolt and attached to this I made a hanger from some old washers. It was then that I had a flash of inspiration. If Dark Esra had killed Kanan and Maul, maybe he would have taken the crystals from their sabres and attached them to his own as trophies, a lovely dark thought. It still needed something though and then I thought about the Loth-Owls that had followed Ahsoka around on Lothal, what if Esra had caught one and taken its feathers? So I set about our pet owl Alby with with a set of clippers! Don't worry, that is a joke, my other half keeps nice feathers when she sheds them, which happens occasionally. I wrapped the feather stems with wire salvaged from the Hi-Fi, weathered them with some paint and attached them to the hilt.

With that, I was done. It sounds so easy when typed out like this, but it took me ages and I loved every dark second of it, even when I buggered it up. I just need to total up my expenses and then work out how to use Instagram so that I can submit my entry to the competition. Ahhh, the things that these younglings do!

LED torch - £1.99

Bike lights - £3.99

Laser sword - £4.99

Garden light - £0.89

Engineering bolt - £0.75

Toy gun -  £1.00

Paper -  £0.10

ASDA tin foil fragment -  £0.10

Solder - £1.00

Owl Feathers - Lots of cuddle

Broken Hi-Fi

Piece of copper pipe

Scrap wire

Old bicycle grip tape off cut    - All free

Torn leather jeans leg

Scrap wood

Final cost  £14.81 and lots of owl cuddles

If you want to take part in this, go and give Buckethead Props some love, subscribe to their channel, watch their videos and get involved. After all, you only get one life and your Lightsabre is your soul!

#Star Wars #Lightsaber #Lightsabre #Buckethead Props #Cosplay #star wars rebels #Maker #adam savage #home made #Dark Side #ezra bridger #darth maul

[thehopefulraincoat]

#28DrawingsLater: Art Challenges, Fear, & Faith

In February I took part in an art challenge called #28DrawingsLater, which involves doing a drawing a day and posting it on a social media like Instagram (and all my prompts were based on books, because I’m that person who reads all the freaking time). Now it’s April and I’ve been meaning to do a reflection on it for all of March! Granted, this March has kind of been insane for the whole world, so I think I can afford a little slack this time... 

Seriously though, I really did need to take the time to reflect because I came into this challenge with so many hopes and I left it with some new realizations. In all that, I realized that I probably had something good to share and if nothing else, writing about it would help me process it.

Why?

I did #28DrawingsLater because I felt that I needed to prove to myself that I had the self-discipline and the drive to stick with something that big. I needed to see what I could do, prove that I could meet “deadlines,” and understand what it would look like to do MORE art. 

What did I gain from it?

-Seeing how much time I really have to do art, when I stop letting other things that seem important get in the way and I spend less time doing mindless entertainment kind of things.

-Being forced, via deadlines, to understand when a piece is done, even if it is not perfect in my own mind. I tend to worry my pieces to completion. I nit pick and wonder and change little things here and there when I could have called it done. That doesn’t mean I’m saying that I shouldn’t care about how things turn out or let mistakes that should be fixed slide through, but there’s a difference between that and needing to make sure my pieces are “perfect” before the world can see them (& thus judge them).

-Experimenting in how I draw. Not only was I challenging myself to complete a drawing a day, but I was learning how to use Procreate, and when you do a drawing a day there’s some necessary mix-up that happens to keep things interesting, I think. To some degree I let each prompt tell me where to take it stylistically as I thought about what fit the book.

Where did it leave me at the end of the month?

Maybe it seems like an odd question, but I went into thinking that if I succeeded, I’d have some great art I could add to my portfolio, a new found confidence in myself as an artist, and this great new habit developed, so that I was making art all the time. Some of that did happen. I have a few pieces of art that I can do a little polish on and probably add to my portfolio. It did boost my confidence a little to have been able to stick it out and to have seen how even the pieces I didn’t have time to finish or didn’t like got a fair amount of love on my socials. The habit part though, it kinda flopped.

I was sick at the beginning of the month and I deprived myself of sleep to keep up with things, so by the end of the month I was stretched thin. A little sick of it, but not enough so that I didn’t want to do art, just to want a break, some sleep, and the chance to do art I wanted to do, without pressure or time limits. I had big hopes when March started, after succeeding at my goal, but driving myself into the ground.

I realized now that I flopped because I went from STRUCTURE to “Ok, now go do lots of art and be amazing at it RIGHT NOW (even though last month completely exhausted you).” I want badly for this year to be the one in which I’m not just doing art for myself, but for work, so when February ended, I wanted to launch right into those goals - and then I shot myself in the foot with the pressure. There was pressure because I feel I need to make certain choices by certain days for financial reasons and career reasons, but I also feel so unsatisfied and not at all confident in my art. There’s this strong desire to stretch myself, to do different art, to play and experiment and let failures happen, but at the same time I have felt that I don’t know how to do that kind of self-stretching nor that I have the time for it. That I must become the artist I want to be, and I must do it now. 

In all the pressure I put on myself, I did not realize that it wasn’t that I didn’t know how to get from point A (my art as it normally is) to point B (the art I want to try) so much as it was that I was afraid of the unknown in the journey from A to B. New, different-looking art requires new ways of creating, new steps, new tools. #28DrawingsLater saw me learning a new tool all month and some new techniques, but it wasn’t different enough to truly stretch me. It’s no wonder I was still so unsatisfied at the end even for all the good it did do me.

And I wouldn’t say I’m satisfied yet, I guess, but I have spent all of March fighting to let myself create something truly new. Each new piece I sat down to make, I got to a point where I sat face to face with my fear. I had to chose in those moments to bend over my work and keep going or the fear would win. 

It’s funny, because art has become the clearest lens through which I see what fear versus faith looks like. I never expected that. But I can sometimes see the very moment when I tell my fear that it will not stop me. I can see, as if it were a physical thing, the moment I choose to believe that God is telling the truth when He says that there is something on the other side of this dark sea. It makes me wonder, what other parts of my life need that kind of clarity about fear?

So I have been learning to create differently, learning to wait out my fears in a new way, and in it God has been reminding me that there is time. I do not have to be the artist I want to be tomorrow, even if I would like to be. He is changing me at the pace and in the ways He sees are best for me, and I just move things along more easily if I trust Him. Time is an important factor that I don’t give much credit to. It’s something which God shaves off our rough edges with. Art is much the same, I feel. It takes time to sand out the imperfections and rough spots, to discover yourself in it. 

I can’t imagine how artists who are not Christians see it. Because I can only see my art as a chisel and a mallet, as a paintbrush, as a pencil in God’s hand. My art is not in itself sending some great message, but in me is shaping who I am meant to be in Christ.

So about those hopes, those decisions I need to make regarding art and finances: what is God asking of me? To take the risk to jump into this chance to really pursue art? Or to be patient, to wait it out for a little longer?

I still don’t know. What I do know is that I am learning balance so that I am growing in my art, but not exhausting myself because taking care of myself properly is something that is not just good for me and my productivity but is also something God is pleased by. I do know that God is telling me that when I pursue my art as I should, I am pursuing Him. I do know that I am built to see Him through the eyes of a Creator and when I do, it pleases Him. 

Am I glad I did this art challenge?

Yes. I learned new things. It taught me how much time I do have for art, if I’m willing to push myself. It taught me to let go of perfection, to pay better attention to how I spend my time as I create, and to try a few new things as I let accidents lead my art in new directions. It was good for me. I just didn’t expect the struggle on the other side, the pressure I was putting on myself as I feel I am running out of time. Yet even that struggle has been good for me. 

For once, I feel that maybe I’m beginning to grasp this future I hope for. I don’t think it’ll be easy. But I also don’t think it needs to drive me into the ground. I think it is doable, if hard. I think God will not let me give up now, even if I think about doing exactly that sometimes. I don’t know that I know what success looks like in this other than in one respect: I think I will have succeeded if I have not let my fear make me stop.

And for you who stuck around to read all that:

Least favorite piece I made for #28DrawingsLater?

Probably the Samovar from The Girl Who Fell Beneath Fairyland... I didn’t finish it, which is a big part of why I’m displeased with it. But I also let myself get caught in some of the details and the perfection of it, and lost sight of the whole picture - and the whole picture suffered for it.

My favorite piece I made for #28DrawingsLater?

I think it’s easily the one I did for Memoirs of a Geisha. It’s funny, because I kept thinking about taking that prompt off the list. But I was tired that day and decided that that prompt would be more simple than the other prompts I had left. I don’t know if it was, but I’m very pleased with the end result. It combines flatness with depth, linework with shape. I like that tension, but with where I am at with my art right now I’m struggling to break out from what I know how to do and find the place where those contradictions can be at home together. I think this piece manages it pretty well. 

#art challenge #28drawingslater #28 drawings later #a reflection #god and art #the hopeful update #2020 #feb 2020 #fear and art