Discover Top Posts Tagged with #post war.

@nnaitogai liked ☆

“do you remember what you said to me before my surgery?” lee doesn’t sound sad at all, just curious, sitting beside his mentor while they enjoy a hearty, protein-packed lunch. while the chair gai sits in has done little to limit the beast of a man’s vibrance and gusto, it always reminds lee of those moments he told himself to say goodbye. the moments he saw the red beast.

“that you would follow me, no matter what happened? it has been something i held very dear to my heart since you said it!”

#nnaitogai #starter.#post war.#hI HAVE THIS

‘ who’s there ? ’ honey - ed voice falls softly from cerulean lips, the slightest crack in her voice. the last time she had come she was interrupted as well, but something was different now. ‘ come out. ’ voice becomes demanding once more, that of a diamond, a gem of authority, a leader.

pain for @distrvtto !

#writings.#post war.#distrvtto #B)))))#time to hert

@royaldresser gets more starters from me

the duke asks as he enters the room with a SIGH -- a royal visit can be exhausting when you are at the beck and call of the king and queen. philip rests on his cane; his leg is aching. some days, he wishes he was without it. he can still remember france and the explosion that took his full mobility. by the time the royal dresser enters the room, he’s seated on the bed with his leg raised. “ah, ellis, is it?” he asks, tilting his head curiously. he gives a smile that does not reach his eyes. the spanish flu had finished running its course, and philip is exhausted. he’d lost minnie only a few months earlier.

he’d loved her, of course. . . in the way that he can. it was never the conventional marriage; he had started courting her in new york in 1913, and they wed by the summer. her parents had been very excited about the prospect of a duke. by may of the next year, little albert had been born, and an heir had been secured in his family line. his mother could not have been more pleased. and then by august, he had been shipped off to war as an able-bodied young man. he’d been wounded in 1917, and that was when their romance had been rekindled. he found that he loved her, maybe not in the most natural way, but they were good companions together. they were well-suited. he didn’t expect to lose her so young. and now it is 1920, and he has a six year old without a mother. philip can only do so much as a father.

as exhausting as this visit is, this is a nice reprieve away from crowborough. philip shifts, his jacket already off and resting on his bed. “as much as i like looking pretty for her majesty, i do sometimes lament wearing so many layers.” he jests and goes to stand, letting out a soft grunt as he puts weight on his left leg. “i’m sure you can help me out of them quite swiftly, can’t you?” it has been. . . some time since he has been able to flirt. he wonders if he still has the same charm he did in his youth, with his tired eyes and his trimmed mustache. the cane must be off-putting, but this valet is a charmer. . . what the king doesn’t know won’t hurt him, would it?

#this got very long but i also wanted to give some context to the year and some of philip's past #POST WAR.#royaldresser

“do my eyes deceive me? lady mary crawley.” philip spends a lot more time in london now that minerva has passed. dear minnie, a sweet thing, that he enchanted with his duchy. a new york heiress was the answer to all his problems, and now he has his estate and a son. ( though, it had not been EASY to fulfill his duties, all things considered. ) “what a treat to see you here.” he has changed over the years; the war has aged him, and he supports himself with a cane now, similar to one john bates. “what brings you to london?” a pause. “i ... had heard about mr. crawley. my sincerest apologies.” | @ofnxbility gets this because i’m spamming friends

#POST WAR.#ofnxbility

“ -- -- LORD GRANTHAM, is that you?” there philip stands in the gentleman’s club in london. he’s grown a mustache and leans against a cane these days after the war. “how long has it been? i haven’t seen you since, oh, nineteen-twelve. ten years and a war in between. may i sit?” he doesn’t wait for robert to answer, limping to sit across from him. “tell me, how are things at downton?” | @acercontego gets some duke bs

#POST WAR.#acercontego

@cursbroken whispered: “ you’re always apologizing. ”

-- -- -- leave it to bill to be so observant. it’s being at the BURROW; it’s being around arthur and george. he feels like he’s SUFFOCATING, like he’s cursed. why is he alive when fred is dead? he apologizes for his very existence. if there is some way he could give up his life for fred’s return, he’d do it in a heartbeat. everyone -- EVERYONE -- would be better without him. percy swallows; there’s a lump in his throat that he can never quite get down. being alive is so exhausting now. the guilt consumes him to the point where he doesn’t remember what anything else feels like. a constant weight pushes on his chest. ( he CAN’T BREATHE. )

“oh?” percy responds, playing dumb. he must. he cannot allow them to worry. still, his eyes burn. he removes his horn-rimmed glasses and pinches the bridge of his nose.