#ken roy

[f1eabee]

boar on the floor??!? more like… animals in suits!!!! hardy har har

[cosmonautistic]

Succession might have written the most layered characters of all time. I can see why it's highly rated. I could write pages on every season, every episode, every scene or even the smallest expressions.

[irlplasticlamb]

i’ve been thinking about post s4 roys a lot..

prints + merch + commission info

[spxllcxstxr]

Kintsugi • K.R

(Gif not mine)

Request: Pls pls I need Kendall x young reader wife with a kid living in a remote place away from all the post waystar drama — anon

Summary: Six months later, Kendall still believes he's broken

Warnings: fem!reader (referred to as girl and mommy), usage of mommy and daddy but in pure parental terms, you have an unnamed daughter, rehab mention, kendall takes meds and goes to therapy now, past suicide implication/mention?, normal ken stuff, spoilers for the end of succession

Word Count: 1.2k (I didn't think it was gunna be this long lmao)

A.N: this was a little angsty im not gunna lie lmao, I’m going feral over this request—I just want Ken to be HAPPY, not enough happy Kendall gifs, also i am not entirely great with writing modern bros so like sorry about the characterization? first kendall piece so if you have any tips let me know, hope you all enjoy!

Kintsugi - a Japanese art form that involves repairing broken pottery with gold

•

"Ken? Ken honey do you want to join us at the beach today?" Your words cut through the painful silence of your master bedroom, shrouded in darkness despite it being past noon.

Kendall gives no indication that he heard you; no vague grunt or shift in movement. He just lays there--the blanket covering everything below his nose as his eyes stay closed. He isn't sleeping, you've been married to him long enough that his shuddering breaths and still as stone rigid posture was a poor attempt to convince you otherwise.

It’s like he thinks the blanket is the only thing holding him together. Like if he leaves that spot he’ll crumble to pieces right in front of you.

Your heart drops just looking at him. Being away from the city had obviously done some good, along with his month long visit to rehab, but Ken was still…healing.

You kiss his forehead before leaving, telling your disappointed daughter that daddy wouldn't be joining you today.

"It's one of daddy's bad days?" She asks once you feet hit the sand. Her childish voice laced with her innocence almost makes you tear up.

"It is, sweetie..." You nod, before quickly distracting her with placing your towels down and bringing out water bottles from her little pink lunchbox.

The ocean is what occupies her little body for the first hour or so. She jumps over the little waves and collects sea shells. Like what any parent would do, you snap photos of her with the biggest grin on her face.

Eventually, though, the two of you end up in the sand, using her plastic bucket and shovel to build a castle fit for a queen. She's actually not half bad, you notice, as the usual clumsy movements of a toddler are no longer present when she details her sandcastle.

“How’re my girls?”

You look up from the sand beneath your fingers to see your husband, clad in shorts and t-shirt.

“Daddy!” Your daughter shrieks, practically stomping all over the sandcastle the two of you were working on to get to Kendall.

She hugs his knees, squeezing them between her little arms, and he crouches down to hug her back.

Your husband smiles and it’s enough to convince your daughter—but not you.

He's tired, you notice; though it wouldn't take a rocket scientist to figure that one out. At just a glance it looks as if your husband has aged 50 years in six months. His eyes are sunken, not mention the dullness of his usually bright brown eyes. Kendall's normally sun-kissed skin now a deathly grey, which makes sense, he has barely left your bedroom much less the house. It’s almost as if someone had taken a spoon and hollowed out everything that made him human. Frown lines are etched into his face, your heart almost shatters at the overpowering aura of sadness and despair surrounding him.

Six months isn't enough time to wash away the years at Waystar.

You smile at him as your daughter takes his hand and drags him to the crumbling sandcastle.

Once he sits down he kisses you, placing a large hand on the side on your face. You taste the mint of the mouthwash he must've just used before his trek down here. Kissing Kendall was addicting, it always was, but with your daughter's groan of disgust you slowly pull away from him.

"Oh don't be like that kiddo, that's just what mommies and daddies do when they're in love." Kendall teases, ruffling her hair in the process.

She sticks her tongue out before turning her attention back on the ruins of the castle in front of her. Instead of crying about the state of it, she happily starts rebuilding with the help of you and Ken.

One eye never leaves his figure.

This sort of mood swing isn’t uncommon, for years you’ve experienced Kendall’s drastic moods, but this certainly wasn’t one of his highs.

The sandcastle slowly morphs into a sandkingdom; once she starts she never wants to stop. That is, until your daughter finally gets tired after the sun sets and she curls into Kendall’s lap.

You know you should get back to the house, it’s late, but it’s just too peaceful out here, alone on the beach.

Careful not to stir the little girl in his lap, Kendell leans his head on your shoulder, shifting closer to your warm figure. The stars flicker above you--a sight you almost never saw in the city. You take a deep breath before kissing your husband's recently buzzed head. Kendall hums, nuzzling even closer into you, like he was trying to burrow underneath your skin so you never had to leave him.

"I love you, Kendall. And we're ok." You whisper, the words getting eaten by the crashing waves just feet away from the two of you. Still, he hears you, you can tell by the sniffle against your shirt. Your daughter groans in her sleep, shifting.

He swallows roughly at your words.

“I’m so sorry, (Y/n)…I fucked it.” Ken chokes out quietly, trying not to disturb the child. “I fucked it and I’m broken.”

His tears seep into your shirt. You angle your head down, your nose brushing against the top of his head.

"Oh Ken honey..." Your own lip wobbles at your husband's vulnerability. "You're not broken...you were never broken..."

"Then I'm--I'm fucking cracked, (Y/n)! I'm just not whole anymore! I don’t know if I ever was!"

Thoughts race through your head. Kendall had been doing better. He was consistent with taking his meds and he went to therapy every week. What if he tried to--? You clutch him closer to you, trying not to make yourself spiral when Kendall needed you.

His body shakes with silent sobs, your daughter still peacefully sleeping, unaware of the world around her.

The cool ocean breeze dances across your skin. You take a deep breath.

"Have you ever heard of kintsugi, Ken?"

"What? I'm having a complete breakdown and you're asking me about whatever the fuck that is?" He huffs, annoyed.

"Just listen to me Ken, it'll go somewhere." You kiss the top of his head to comfort his suddenly tense figure beside you. He eases at the contact. "I read in some stupid magazine that it's a Japanese technique where they repaired broken pots and stuff with gold." Kendall lifts his head to look at you. His eyes are red with unshed tears and his eyebrows are furrowed, listening to you. "They were made whole again; made more beautiful and were stronger than before."

Kendall purses his lips as you bring a hand up to stroke his tear stained cheek. Your other hand lightly strokes through your daughter's hair, careful not to rouse her.

"We'll be your gold, Kendall."

All at once the tension leaves his body, tears cascading down his face. His once dimly lit eyes brighten to reflect the stars above.

"Right," He nods, almost like he doesn't know how to respond to what you just said. "My gold..." His eyes flick between you and your daughter before his head settles back onto your shoulder, almost as if he couldn't take anymore emotions for the day.

You sigh, leaning your own head against his. Closing your eyes, you let the sound of the waves wash over the otherwise silent night.

The stars still shine above you and the saltiness of the ocean tinges the air.

You were all going to be alright.

•

[crematedequally]

that bit in succession where they're all at 'family therapy' and everything falls apart is honestly so much better on a second watch because that last chunk where kendall looks logan in the face and says that he's jealous of the success he gave his kids... it pins down so much about familial cycles of abuse, and it pins down so much about kendall. he's so deeply resentful of the fact that his father earned his wealth- at least at the beginning, and logan is so deeply resentful of the fact that his kids didn't. to a certain degree, the only thing he said in that therapy session was true- everything he did, he did for his kids. but it's not enough to just say that, and it's certainly not enough to wait until they're all grown.

kendall is so desperate to be his father and not be his father at the same time. and logan knows how old he is and knows that in giving his children everything he never had, he denied them the opportunity to grow and learn responsibility, and even then it might not have been enough to make them good people because all the weight of responsibility taught logan was anger and violence.

it's especially interesting to me because like. i've been in those attempted therapy appointments before and i recognize those patterns and the one thing i never noticed on my first watch through was that kendall isn't using drugs to escape the depression or doubt or anger- he's using drugs to gain confidence. that night where he comes back inside and actually stands up to his father is the only time we really see him actually being brave. the other times he's just putting on heirs and feigning importance in a long term fake-it-til-you-make-it. and no wonder he was bitter and struggling to be sober. it was the only time he felt safe actually telling his father how he felt, without flinching or shrinking back.

i used to think that when i was struggling with alcohol i was drinking to self-medicate depression, or to loosen up. now rewatching this i realized i was drinking to self-medicate anxiety- now that i'm not around my father anymore i really don't get the urge to drink like i used to. i don't know if this is going anywhere, it's just really interesting to have watched this show before and after my sobriety and cutting off my father, and get those separate perspectives.

[oakpath]

I disagreed with pony designs again

Inspired by @alexloldog and @gingergeepers (like big inspired, like straight up stolen ideas)

Ok, so, Shiv is pink bc Logan calls her Pinkie all the time, why would he otherwise, also cm - improvised weapons? shivs?? and yeah, a play on Tom's cm

Greg's cm - yes, breaking Greggs but also hatching? breaking out of a shell? hidden gold?

Tom's cm - outsider looking to find a place in the hearts of the "insiders" but also just wanting to be loved

Logan's cm - notice that the money is falling?

Also the golden-orange motif for the Roys (Ken's is a small stretch) :D no Connor bc that's funny.

stole the idea for Ken's cm and Rome's small little wings bc ye that fits so well

[milescrypt]

I feel so much for keiran culkin, and I'm not exaggerating.

[terrazaurio]

The cage is open.

You can walk out anytime you want.

Why are you still in there?

Successions, am I right? Heh

Sophie Roy, Conwilla's first child I invented, Tomshiv's first child I invented too and Iverson Roy!!