“uggghhh why is tony stark even in Spider-Man: Homecoming it’s not an iron man movie” he’s there bc I’m a good person and this is marvels gift 2 me personally after the shit this fandom has put me thru this year
okay but imagine a total stranger that you just screamed at yesterday and just lost a dance-off to dry humping the guy who promised to coach you begging him to be his coach?? of course you’d be pretty pissed off
and then he DOES go and coach the stranger you yelled at and you get there to chew him out for being a filthy coach-thief and drag YOUR coach back to YOUR rink to COACH you like he fucking PROMISED and the fucker leans over you like you’re a child and looks at you like this
Damn right. Cuz Alfred is just as much (if not MORE) of a father (to Damian at least) as either of them. Alfred ia the BEST father. And he loves all his sons, grandsons, adopted sons, daughters, adopted daughters, granddaughters….
Son Hak… he is grandson of Son Mundok, former head of the Wind Tribe. He rose to lead the tribe at a young age. A single blow from his blade is like lightning, earning him the nickname of ‘The Thunder Beast of Kouka’.
“Three times the gods saw fit to test my vows. Once when I was a boy, once in the fullness of my manhood, and once when I had grown old. By then my strength was fled, my eyes grown dim, yet that last choice was as cruel as the first. My ravens would bring the news from the south, words darker than their wings, the ruin of my House, the death of my kin, disgrace and desolation. What could I have done, old, blind, frail? I was helpless as a suckling babe, yet still it grieved me to sit forgotten as they cut down my brother’s poor grandson, and his son, and even the little children … “
Jon was shocked to see the shine of tears in the old man’s eyes. "Who are you?” he asked quietly, almost in dread.
A toothless smile quivered on the ancient lips. “Only a maester of the Citadel, bound in service to Castle Black and the Night’s Watch. In my order, we put aside our house names when we take our vows and don the collar.” The old man touched the maester’s chain that hung loosely around his thin, fleshless neck. “My father was Maekar, the First of his Name, and my brother Aegon reigned after him in my stead. My grandfather named me for Prince Aemon the Dragonknight, who was his uncle, or his father, depending on which tale you believe. Aemon, he called me … ”
“Aemon … Targaryen?” Jon could scarcely believe it.
“Once,” the old man said. “Once. So you see, Jon, I do know … and knowing, I will not tell you stay or go. You must make that choice yourself, and live with it all the rest of your days. As I have.” His voice fell to a whisper. “As I have … ”
Warning: Mention of dementia, and possible character death (depends on how you interpret the ending)
I’d all but given up hope, of ever finding love, I thought I was just doomed to be alone. I’d gotten use to the looks of pity from family members. My parents just looked at me with sadness in their eyes. I was an only child, so I was their only hope for a grandchild. The hugs from the spinster aunts, whispering in my ear that Mr. Right would come along. Then there were the blind dates that my well meaning uncles tried to set me up on.
Kaiser Wilhelm I of Prussia (1797-1888), with his son, later Kaiser Friedrich III (1831-1888); his grandson, later Kaiser Wilhelm II (1859-1941), and his great-grandson, Crown Prince Wilhelm (1882-1952), in 1882.
The Goblin has been a lot of people in his 900 years as a God - uncle, son, grandson, CEO, land owner, folktale hero and villain. He forges a real connection with his family of man servants, the Reaper, Eun Tak. But in the end, these are all masks. He is General Kim Shin to his last breath, who chose his king over his loved ones only to be betrayed by him. In his death, he gets to finally protect his loved ones.
“I’ll admit, you are not one I had thought to see,” Vairë stated, looking not at her guest but almost through him. He was Míriel’s grandson – and the son of the one who seemed to speak against the Ainur at every time. She had come to Tirion on other matters, and while she had hoped to speak with one of Finwë’s House she had not hoped to be fortunate enough to have one so readily available for conversation. She looked out over the edge of the marble balcony, to the distant light of Telperion spread over the Noldor’s city, and tapped a finger on the carved table. Tirion really was beautiful – a thousand little elves going about on a thousand little stories, surprising her at every turn with what the beauty and the unexpected things they would come up with.
But there was a darkness here; a hidden Truth that choked her tongue. Vairë could say nothing of what she knew to be happening here, nor could she lift a finger to stop it. But perhaps speaking with them could reverse things. “Though I’m glad you agreed to speak with me,
Macalaurë, however informal this may be.”