#he's been trained since a kid to be polite when needed. as well as wanting to

[air-mechanical]

Syril knows that he’s doing the right thing, but he's got to work up the nerve to enter that room and give his orders. He could spend hours trapped in his own thoughts and arguments and justifications. He needs that 'Everything okay, sir' to jolt him into action. He needs an external motivator to press forward. Now that someone's seen him, he has to act. The fear of being stuck doing nothing and giving the impression that he's scared outweighs the fear of going against orders by giving orders.

Contrast this with Dedra’s uninterrupted march to Blevin's office to request the Ferrix data. She also knows she’s not going to face anything easy, and that she can only request, not order, but her only indication of trepidation is an exhale. She's her own motivator.

ANDOR - S01E01 Kassa

[loves-alibi]

an unusual lieutenant

don't mind me.. just thinking about vampire!ghost at 10am

1.8k words (beware... a little bit of blood, alcohol, vampirey stuff and la tension sexuelle)

...

Captain Price warned you. The day you transferred onto the team, he pulled you aside, and in an utterance quieter than anything you’ve heard from him since, he told you that the Lieutenant would take some getting used to. 

“He’s a good man,” Price said, “Just peculiar.”

Read between the lines, sergeant: he’s an asshole. It isn’t anything new, and it certainly won’t become an excuse. You worked hard to get on this team, and some weirdo won’t get in the way of that.

So you prepare for the worst, and… you end up with the best? Lieutenant Riley turns out to be the best superior you’ve had the honor of serving under. He’s not a friend, not by any means, but he’s efficient on the field and cordial off of it, a luxury you’ve rarely been afforded.

However, Price’s words ring true. The man is just as his call sign suggests– a ghost. He barely socializes with the team, always (politely) declining to eat meals with you all. He makes himself scarce during the day, only appearing for training and missions wearing a skull mask. Hell, you’ve never seen him without the damn mask.

Despite his peculiarities, you can see why he’s made the team. He’s built like nobody you’ve ever seen– nearly six and a half feet of pure muscle. And the man is efficient. He lurks in the shadows, waiting to strike, and when he does… The man has slaughtered his way out of one too many impossible odds. It’s a pleasure to fight by his side. You find yourself missing him whenever he’s disappeared. The longing is unusual, unfamiliar, especially considering the allusiveness of the lieutenant. Yet when he’s there, working with you on training or missions, things just go better. It’s as though he understands you on some incomprehensible level. He picks up on things nobody else ever has– when you’re fatigued, hurt, or just generally pissed.

Unfortunately, today was one of the many days where Ghost lived up to his namesake. And what a day it was for him to be missing. After a grueling training session, you were tasked with a mountain of paperwork. All was going well until you accidentally misplaced about half of your completed paperwork, leading to an overzealous recruit dumping them into the paper shredder during your lunch break. While you were happy to give the kid one hell of a talking to, the damage was done and you were practically back to square one.

You don’t finish up until almost midnight. The urge to sleep is strong, but your frayed nerves are stronger. If you want to get some shut-eye before the sun rises, you need a drink ASAP. So straight past your room you go into the common room kitchen. Except, you’re not alone. 

A man leans over the counter, setting down an empty glass. His blond hair is so light it nearly blends in with his translucent, pale skin. You’ve never seen him before, surely you would have noticed if you have. With skin that white, he must glow like a damn disco ball in the sun. The man wipes his lips with the back of his hand. It comes back smudged with red. So it seems like he had the same bright idea as you.

“Care to share?” You ask, startling him. He straightens to full height, and your heart skips a beat. He didn’t look all that large while hunched over the counter. Now? He’s built like a damn brick wall, tall and broad in a way that’s even rare among the men and women you work with.

The man gazes at you with wide brown eyes lined with purple bags. They dart behind you before he relaxes a bit, slumping back down.

“Share?” He whispers. His voice raises your hackles, something about the timber of the sound, even in a whisper, that awakens something in your mind.

You motion to his wine glass. He holds the stem tightly. You wouldn’t be surprised if it shattered. “The wine, pal.”

The man tenses. “Pal?”

“Pal,” you repeat.

“You’ve never called me that before,” says the man as he reaches in the cabinet for another glass.

You frown. “Have we met?”

The man’s face stretches into an unamused pout, “Really, Sergeant?” The word curls around his tongue in such a familiar way, yet it’s nearly impossible to place.

Just nearly.

You know that voice well. Typically it’s barking out orders in your earpiece and—

Shit, you just disrespected your Lieutenant.

“Christ—” Ghost flinches. You compartmentalize his dislike of blaspheme for when you’re not profusely apologizing to him. “Ghost, I didn’t recognize you without—“

“It’s alright,” Ghost looks through the cabinets until he finally finds the one with the 141’s not-so-secret alcohol supply. “Wine, you said? White or red?”

“Whatever you’re having.”

Ghost frowns at you until you motion for his emptied glass still filled with the crimson liquid. His lips part into an ‘o’. “‘F course."

Ghost pours a glass and slides it your way. “Can’t sleep?”

You nod. “You?”

“Something like that.”

You raise your glass. “Cheers?”

Ghost taps his glass against yours with a satisfying ding.

“You know,” you say after a sip, “We haven’t gotten the chance to talk since I joined— one-on-one, I mean.”

“That we have not,” Ghost muses. “I suppose you have questions.”

“That I do,” your eyes follow your finger, tracing the rim of the glass. “You know, Price gave me a warning when I joined.”

“He did?”

“Yeah, said you were a weirdo.”

“‘Weirdo’?” Ghost laughs. It’s surprisingly warm. You get a flash of his smile for the first time. His teeth are blindingly bright, but your attention is drawn to his canines. They’re unusually large— long —their points extending long and dangerous. “Is that what we’re calling it these days,” he muses.

“It’s not totally crazy to say, you know?” Ghost tilts his head, another sharp smile pulling at his lips, “I mean– this is the first time I’ve seen your face.”

“I’ve got a skin condition.” You raise a skeptical eyebrow. Ghost continues, “I get burnt easily.”

You frown, “Burnt?”

“Sunburn.”

“You’re joking.”

Ghost grimaces, and you realize that he is in fact not joking. You bark out a laugh, and before you consider the possibility that Ghost may actually have a medical condition, he starts laughing too.

You’re not looking, too busy laughing about your poor brick-shithouse of a lieutenant getting burnt to see that you’re about to slam your hand down on your wine glass. And you do, the glass knocking over and spilling wine all over the counter. And, as though the universe is reminding you that luck is not on your side today, the glass shatters, a shard managing to cut through one of your fingers.

A string of expletives escapes your lips as you instinctually avert your eyes. The feeling of the glass slicing through your skin echoes in your mind. Thinking about it causes you more distress than the actual pain.

“Let me look,” Ghost grumbles. He reaches for your hand, but you pull it back, examining it. A long but shallow cut mars your pointer finger. It oozes blood which drips down your knuckle and between your fingers. 

“It’s fine,” you gasp, “I’ll just grab a band-aid.”

“No,” Ghost wraps his hand around your wrist. It’s not particularly hard, but the shock of his cold touch has you gasping. He pulls your hand to his face– his lips –and before you know it, your bloodied finger is in his mouth.

“Ghost, what the hell are you–”

Your lieutenant honest-to-God moans around your finger. His tongue swirls languidly around the digit in his mouth, like he’s savoring something. You suppose he is– the taste of you. Ghosts’s eyes are pulled shut, brows furrowed as he completely ignores your protests. Though, your protests aren’t exactly passionate, rather halfhearted formalities in case any others decide to wander into the common room this late at night.

He draws your finger out slowly, his tongue keeping contact with it until it can’t any more. You don’t draw your hand away from his grasp, instead letting it stand between you two, Ghost’s grip still iron on your wrist.

The room spins around you. You blame it on blood loss, ignoring the fact that you’ve lost way more blood in way less time. A cut certainly couldn’t bring you down. Your lieutenant however–

“Better?” Ghost asks. He moves closer, nostrils flaring as he takes a deep inhale almost like he’s smelling you. The thought makes you dizzier, a recessed part of your brain running wild at the thought of such a primitive act.

“You… you just–” You cut yourself off, a cross between a sigh and a whimper bubbling from your throat. 

It sounds like a moan. 

Maybe it was a moan. 

It definitely was a moan.

Ghost’s free hand comes to cup your cheek, tilting your gaze back up to his. You hadn’t realized, but you were staring at his bloodstained lips. “Darling,” he coos, “Answer me.”

The words tumble from your mouth before you can even think about them: “Much better.” They ring true. Your finger doesn’t hurt a bit, even though it was very much just sliced open on a glass.

Ghost brings your hand to his lips again. You think he’s going to put your finger in his mouth again. Instead, he presses it against your lips, placing a kiss on the cut. He lets go of your wrist, but before your hand can fall to your side, his tongue darts out from between his lips, giving the cut one last kitten lick.

Ghost’s lips are moving. Between them, you catch glimpses of his canines. Why are they so long? They’re lined with red blood– your blood –filling the crevices between his teeth. His tongue runs over his teeth, wiping them clean of you. Your lips part, your own tongue running over your own teeth in mimicry.

“Darling?” His mouth is closed, lips pursed.

“Huh?”

He’s staring at you, the bags under his eyes seeming to have lessened. It’s just the lighting, that’s all.

“I said,” Ghost’s thumb traces your cheekbone. You feel like you might faint. “Go bandage that.”

You blink, mouth forming an 'o'. “Okay,” you barely get the word out as Ghost lets his hands fall from you. Your feet are carrying you backwards as you stutter, “B-bandage. Got it, Ghost.”

You’re falling over your feet as you stumble away, nodding profusely and uttering bandage, bandage, bandage under your breath.

“Simon,” he calls, and you stop, turning to him. “It’s Simon. I’m not just a ghost, you know.”

A ghost. No he certainly is not. Not anymore. Your finger is stinging, and when you look down, it’s bleeding again. You’re tempted to point it out to Ghost– to Simon –just to see what he’ll do.

“Good night,” your bloody finger twitches involuntarily, “Simon.”

[realcube]

dilf december

day five ⭑ shota aizawa ⭑ coffee shop au!

tw implied age gap, mentions of heart failure & brief mentions of suicide

dealing with hyperactive kids all day is tiring. so, as a strategy to help him get by, aizawa will pay a visit to his local coffee shop on his way to work, and orders a sweet pastry along with a caffeinated drink.

not only is a nice treat, but that little bit of sugar and extra coffee gives him the energy he needs to stay awake through the whole day and complete his extra duties too. it's a nice routine he's found himself falling into, popping into the cafe every day of his working week, and occasionally trying out new desserts.

something else that has made him particularly excited for his daily pastry, is the new hire who has recently started serving him. he's been frequenting this cafe for around two years, and for the most part, it was a nice old lady that would be behind the counter. however, for the last week or so, it has been someone else.

a someone else who happens to be a treat for his eyes, while he buys a treat for his stomach.

today, he's headed to work a bit early to grade some papers before class. naturally, during his walk to the train station, he slips into the cafe first to begin his morning routine.

he was only half-surprised to see you standing behind the counter again, hair thrown into an updo, covered by a puffy hairnet, which he could tell you weren't pleased by wearing. though he's never seen someone look so cute in one before. as for your uniform, you wore a white blouse under an apron with the cafe's logo on it, tightened at the waist to highlight your gorgeous figure.

he couldn't take his eyes off you, which made things a bit awkward when you address him, while he's lost in his fantasies, "welcome. are you ready to order?" you ask, offering him a weak smile.

he blinks, raising his eyebrows as he is suddenly snapped out of his thoughts. "hm," he crosses his arms over his chest and approaches the counter, scanning over all the delicious options kept in the adjacent display case. "a croissant, please."

"okay." you hum, tapping that through the system, "and would you like a drink?"

"yes. a triple espresso."

you raise your eyebrows, then explain with a polite smile, "we serve doubles as standard here, so that would be the equivalent of six shots of espresso. if you prefer, i could give you a double which is equivalent to four sh—"

"six shots is fine." he says bluntly.

"uh," you stammer, quite caught off-guard by the man's resounding certainty. "do you happen to be a teacher?"

he quirks a brow, and can't help but smirk a little at your observation, "yes. highschoolers."

"i would've guessed elementary kids." you snicker, idly fiddling with the tassles of your apron, "i don't think i can, in good conscience, serve you six shots of coffee in one drink."

"really? the other lady would serve it to me, no questions asked." he says, in such a dull, matter-of-fact way that you can't tell if he was being sarcastic.

"she also still thinks smoking is good for you, so she's far from a health guru." you joke, and feel quite pleased with yourself as the man cracks the tiniest smile in response, "you usually get a double, don't you? i could do that for you. that would be four shots."

"i've got an early start today; i could use the extra energy."

"well, i don't want you dying of a heart attack, so will a double be okay?"

"for an old guy like me, heart failure is inevitable anyway. may as well enjoy the coffee while i'm still alive." though his inflection sounds serious, you can tell there is a hint of playfulness in his tone.

"well, you'll have a lot more time to be alive and drink your coffee if you stick to a double." you argue, eyes fixed on the screen as you ring up his total, "that'd be a thousand yen."

he hands over a single note, you process it and then start preparing his drink at the espresso machine. since he is the only customer in the store, in order to combat the awkward silence, you intend to engage him in conversation. and fortunately, he strikes it up first, "a double will have to do. though if i fall asleep mid-class, i'll let them know who to blame."

"i have a feeling you were going to do that either way." you tease, entirely joking, however aizawa is stunned momentarily at how you're able to read him like an open book.

"i see you've somehow found a copy of my lesson plan." he says in that indecipherable tone of his.

"i did. and you glad you're only having four shots of coffee? otherwise, you wouldn't be able to nap." you explain perkily, pouring the brew you made for him into a to-go cup and fitting a lid onto it.

"you'd be suprised." it was now aizawa realised how strange this was. where ever his colleagues tried to engage him in vapid small-talk, it filled with the burning urge to blow his brains out, but now he was not only enjoying a surface-level conversation, but going out of his way to participate in it. with a complete stranger, no less.

"oh, i must be dealing with a professional napper." you muse, giggling to yourself as you use the tongs to pick up a croissant for him from the display case and put it into a paper bag. once that was all done, you wrapped it up, placed it on the counter alongside the coffee and gestured for him to take it — but not without slipping a little something into the bag first.

trudging over to the counter, he picks up the coffee and bag in one hand, and uses the other to get another thousand yen note of his pocket and slide it over to you.

"sir, you've already paid." you correct, motioning for him to keep his money.

"this is your tip." he clarifies, leaving it on the counter for you to take, as he turns around to head out, "you're a sweet girl for caring about the health of others."

as he says that, he doesn't make eye-contact with you, but just as he opens the door to leave, he glances over his shoulder and casts you a gentle smile, which you reciprocate.

it did worry him slightly that he may have came on too strong in that interaction, but his worries were put to rest on the train, just as he was about to start eating his pastry, but lying atop it is a napkin with a note scribbled on it:

'if you're okay with double espressos for the rest of your life, my number is written on the back :P'

[ihavethedreamies]

Stray Kids Historical AU! Series Hub

ON INDEFINITE HIATUS

Please Read my Letter

Oh boy! After my poll, Stray Kids was decided as the subject of my next series! Below you will find the overviews for each story and I will be working on them next and uploading them as I finish. Hopefully it won't take more than a week to get them all up, so stay tuned!

I'll be going in age order, so Bang Chan first and I.N. last.

Let me know if you want to be on a taglist! I do those, just not had too many requests to do so.

(I also struggled to find a Historical-type outfit for Changbin that wasn't older so if anyone has something more recent, let me know. I really only check on Pinterest so...)

Only You - Bang Chan [NSFW]

King! Bang Chan x Noble! AFAB! Reader

Summary: You are a nobleman's daughter and your father is struggling to find you a husband. The king refuses to marry all of the women brought to him and will not take any concubines. You end up meeting each other. ~4.6k

Her Hero - Lee Know [NSFW]

Podocheong! Lee Know x Noble! AFAB! Reader

(The Podocheong were like the police of Joseon Era Korea)

Summary: When a political rival of your father kidnaps you for a ransom, your father calls on the Podocheong (Police) to rescue you. An extremely handsome Bujang (Lieutenant) rescues you, but you would be loathe to admit you need (and like) a hero. ~5k

Kept Secret - Changbin [WIP]

Wonsanghwa! Changbin x Princess! AFAB! Reader

(A Wonsanghwa was essentially the guy who trained the Hwarang)

Summary: You are the youngest princess, and because of that you get the most freedom. The only thing your father refuses is to let you learn to fight. So, you get rid of the middleman and go straight to the Wonsanghwa.

Love is Free - Hyunjin [WIP]

Prince! Hyunjin x Merchan! AFAB! Reader

Summary: You run a store for your father that sells all kinds of clothing and accessories. A nobleman comes by nearly every other day and will buy anything you recommend. You figured at first he was there to buy gifts for his girl, but turns out, he doesn't have on. Yet.

Beside Me - Han [WIP]

Noble! Han x Princess! AFAB! Reader

Summary: You often go to spend the day with your best friend at her husband's family's estate, using it as an excuse to leave the palace. Your friend's younger-brother-in-law normally keeps to himself, but you heard he's actually really fun. You're determined to bring him out of his shell.

Getting Closer - Felix [WIP]

Noble! Felix x Handmaiden! AFAB! Reader

Summary: You had been training ever since you were a little girl to grow up and serve the crown prince and later the king. Because of that, you grew up with the prince as well. Though, the one that always had caught your eye, was the prince's best friend.

Favorite Place - Seungmin [WIP]

Noble! Seungmin x Princess! AFAB! Reader

Summary: You are a habitual escape artist, sneaking away from the palace as often as you could to actual live a fun life. Your best friend of nearly twenty years is always on the other side of the wall to catch you. Every so often though, he goes into the palace to see you instead.

Keep You Safe - I.N. [WIP]

Personal Guard! I.N. x Noble! AFAB! Reader

Summary: Your father, because of his political position, he hired a private guard to keep you safe. He was always disguised as either a servant or a suitor. You have yet to see him actually need to protect you, and you were honestly fairly curious how well he'd do.

Master-Master List

Stray Kids Master List

Taglist: @huldrelokken, @estella-novella, @astrobebba, @kayleefriedchicken, @minghaosimp, @cassandramrn, @qwonyoung23

[moodymisty]

I would like to throw Sanguinius into the “wants to hunt down his beloved to satiate his latent predatory instincts” arena (especially since he doesn’t indulge them nearly as often as Leman & Lion do, he needs to cut loose 🥴)

But ALSO… Horus wants to be so sugar daddy coded. He wants to actually have kids so not like your typical sugar daddy but he wants to provide for his beloved he wants to drown you in luxury and gifts. It gets him harder than tungsten carbide when he sees you looking dolled up to accompany him somewhere and he knows he bought every single thing you’re wearing (probably down to the underwear cuz we been knew he nasty like that lol). He didn’t just want to raise kids he wanted to occupy that perfect paternal figure archetype as a provider (because he has daddy issues that he “copes” with by trying to one-up Emps XD) and part of the perfect image of his future would probably include a spouse he would spoil and treasure like nobody’s business. This man lives for the constant adoration he gets so of course he wants to hear it from you. The thank yous and bashful looks as he hands you ANOTHER priceless piece of jewelry, mewling and moaning as he’s balls deep in you that you don’t NEED another fur shawl and how people will gossip. Let them talk, let every ear on Terra know the warmaster can and will provide only the finest of the fine things in this whole galaxy for you. Cuz that gets him off too XD

ALKJDFLJSDFLJSKDFOW4ITREHDFNB AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-

-----------

"Oh thank you! Warmaster Horus gifted it to me."

You've found yourself saying those words a lot lately, tumbling out of your mouth even before you realize you're saying them.

The dress you wore with sleeves billowing over your wrists, with a train that dusts across the floor is a gift from him, along with the jewelry you wore; The heels you have on are from Horus, custom made from the hide of an animal sourced from a recently annexed planet.

The lingerie you wear under your dress is from him as well- a bra, garter belt, panties and stockings all matching and delicate with lace and silk.

Horus had loved that gift of his in particular, shown in how gentle he was in assisting you while putting it on. And taking it off, now a moments later.

"It sounds like the primarch has quite the warchest, if he's lavishing you with so many gifts." You smile nervously, trying to laugh it off.

You know that despite the relatively simple nature of the comment, that it's implications are less so. There has been gossip going around, talking about Lupercal's spoiled little princess, his brat, and he's been on a manhunt to find the sources of all this talk.

He hasn't told you what he's going to do when he finds out who is nattering insults, which worries you more than a little.

"I keep telling him to stop, that he has thousands of men to feed, but he doesn't really listen."

They smile at you while you try and shrug off their comment, polite and insincere, but amicable enough. At least your response got them away from Horus' gifts.

It's a bit difficult to fend of prying questions about the Warmaster when he isn't around, as many lords and ladies are eager to know anything any everything that could give them a head up. They are all quite interested in the primarchs and their legions goings on, but Horus in particular is of much interest.

Only when you return to Horus' private Terran chambers can you breath, feeling the ache in your feet after so long in heels.

You're taking pins out of your hair when Horus returns, watching you put the pins in a little container before turning to him. He's in his casual war, a massive pelt draped over his shoulder ending right where the start of his baggy brown trousers begin.

"I apologize for missing you, I wish I could've gone but the Mournival had some urgent questions they needed answered." He glances over you, see how you've begun to get ready to settle down. "I hope it went well in my absence, at least." You nod.

"It did, don't worry."

He lets out a soft 'good' in response, but he's already getting down on his knee and pulling something from his trousers.

"I do have something for you. I was going to give it to you before we left, but I suppose I can gift it to you now as an apology for leaving you alone."

You watch as he opens a small box for you, and the shine instantly catches you attention.

They're earrings; Small, delicate and feature a beautiful teal gem as the centerpiece. Horus chuckles.

"You should put them on. I would help but, my hands are not suited for such tiny details."

You can't resist the urge to smile back as you take your current pair out, swapping them for Horus' new ones. He watches with interest the entire time, even as you glance in the large vanity mirror to see them.

"They're perfect Horus, thank you."

You lean forward to wrap your arms around his neck and give him a kiss to the cheek, your lipstick leaving a mark on his tanned skin.

"You always get me so much though, are you sure it's ok?" Horus laughs, a deep chesty laugh as he puts a hand on the small of your back and pulls you closer.

"Ok? Whatever do you mean?" You purse your lips.

"I just don't want you lavish me in all these things when you might be able to use that income for more important things." Horus lets out a softer, quieter laugh, kissing your forehead.

"My love, don't you worry about those things. I have them all handled." His other hand comes up to rest on your jawline, cradling it in his massive palm.

"I only wish to make sure you don't want for a single, solitary thing. If you want something, it is yours. I will make sure of it."

You smile at him, gentle and sweet. You love Horus so much, the feeling is palpable. You wish he wouldn't give you so much however, the gossip is becoming unmanageable. Each time you mention it however

Horus always shrugs it off, saying that they can gossip all they want- It only shows off just how well he takes care of you.

"Do you mind helping me with the buttons on the back of my dress? The handmaid helped me earlier but I think they're off cleaning."

Horus nods and gestures for you to turn around, unfastening the buttons at the nape of your neck. While they're small they aren't as small as the earrings, so he's able to manage the delicate task somewhat easily.

Farther down the trail of buttons eventually the shoulders slide off of you, and the dress pools at your feet.

"You wore it again today,"

Horus says while he looks over your back, and there's an unmistakable look in his eyes at the sight of his gifted lingerie. You turn around, unable to help the way you cross your arms across your stomach.

"It matched the dress, so I thought i would."

His hand drifts over your right thigh, up over the lace top of your stocking, before drifting up and over your hip. He leans inward to press his lips to your collarbone, before lowering to your sternum.

"I should get you another."

You stutter and try to decline his suddenly exclamation as his hands drift upwards, threatening to push your bra up over your breasts.

"Horus, I don't need another, please-"

He hums, and you can feel the vibration go through your chest.

"If you're going to wear it under your dresses then you need multiple, of course."

He's not going to budge on this, and his distractions of kissing your skin are working masterfully. A whimper leaves your throat as one of his hands slides to gently cradle your bottom, and his lips push up your skin to nip at the sensitive skin just below your ear.

"Then... Could you do it in silver? ...I miss the silver of your Luna Wolves regalia."

Horus chuckles, but unlike the one earlier that was so sweet, this one has far more rumble, deeper in his throat.

"Consider it done, my love."

[jujutsutrash]

Never mind me this is just my self indulgent weird scenarios. no real content warnings. maybe some angst.

Thinking about Noritoshi Kamo x Reader where it doesn't work out. he is too caught up in his clan bullshit and you don't want to get trapped in that baggage. he needs to become head of the clan, he will need to have a proper spouse. and you don't wanna be judged constantly by his family. so you run, leave the country even, and he never hears from you. he only knows you are alive because every now and again someone from the Tokyo School travels to visit. he doesn't see you for years. until one day he does.

A heavy hearted Noritoshi Kamo who has to visit the Tokyo School one day and ends up seeing you. after four years that seemed like an eternity, he sees you. you. with Yuuta Okkotsu brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. a small boy in his arm.

A phased Noritoshi who has to keep himself from staring in disbelief. you and Yuuta haven't noticed him yet but the boy turns his face around and his eyes catch Noritoshi's. it's only a split second but it feels like infinity.

It has been fours years since you left. you had always been close with Yuuta – and the special grade was always free to travel. it has been four years. Noritoshi tries not to think about it. but that boy looks nowhere under three.

The next time Noritoshi sees you, you are alone. you both exchange greetings, it's polite but distant. his eyes linger on what changed and what remained the same. your eyes have the same shape he knows so well, but they look tired now. your lips follow the same curves, but your smile has changed.

He doesn't ask about the kid, you don't comment either. your greeting is like a business transaction, done and over with. a braver man would have asked, but he isn't quite so brave. so you part ways, he doesn't learn the name of the kid, or his age for that matter.

Noritoshi later catches a glimpse of the boy with Maki – she was one of the few people he knew visited you with regularity, so it made sense. then he sees the kid again with Yuuta. it's through a window, and once more the boy turns around when Yuuta isn't looking.

He doesn't want to stare, not really. but Noritoshi can't help but notice his traits. the little boy has your skin complexion and the shape of your eyes. his hair is raven black, falling straight to his chin. Noritoshi never saw pictures of you as a child – and now he is left wondering.

Noritoshi walks away before he can be noticed. but not before he hears the boy call for his father. when Yuuta's gentle tone responds, Noritoshi feels a sting. he leaves the Tokyo campus that day. he doesn't return for over a year.

In the meantime, Noritoshi learns that you returned to action as a sorcerer. he overhears about where you had lived abroad, and the name of the boy. your son. Katsuhiro. it's a beautiful name, he thinks.

The next time Noritoshi sees Katsuhiro is when he needs to visit the Tokyo campus again. he'd made sure to arrange his trip when you'd be on a mission, but fate didn't care. he spots the kid with Choso, the half cursed spirit taking the little boy somewhere inside the school.

The kid should be about five by now - or closer to six by different calculations. Noritoshi tries not to think too hard about it. about how he is at the age where cursed techniques manifest. about how he heard nothing of it. about how Choso would be a good choice if one needed to train a child with blood manipulation without reaching the Kamo clan.

A braver man would have asked you, but he isn't brave. and now he lingers in the hallway, staring at the place where they turned around – one foot stepping into the sunlight coming through the window, and he doesn't know if he wants to move forward.

Noritoshi tries not to think about it. he really does. not to wonder about what lies behind the walls he cannot cross. not to muse on what ifs. he tries not to think about it. but now he can't even sleep – the thoughts won't silence for a second.

[summercreolefanfictioner]

the scent wafts in, her name making him beg on his knees chap 1.1

pairing: dabi / todoroki touya x fem!oc / reader (MODERN AU)

summary: He mentions her name after 6 months in therapy, absentmindedly narrating vivid memories of her. She was the only good thing during his darkest times.

(In which Touya returns home after rebelling against his family for 7 years. And no, it wasn't about forgiveness. He wanted to fix himself because of a certain someone.)

themes: nsfw, domestic abuse, violence, alcoholism, cigarette smoking, toxic relationships, mental health, co-dependency and other related themes (YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED)

notes: for this one, pls keep in mind that touya didn't have much scars on his face; mostly are on his body to accomodate the plot; charas might be ooc since this is modern au

Todoroki Touya has returned; it wasn't a drill.

The eldest of the Todoroki family has returned, and it was all over the news like wildfire. Pictures of him were around tabloids and newspapers, imprinted on TV screens along with family pictures of his 13-year-old self as news anchors and writers all over Japan broadcasted about the Endeavor Corp. finally having its original heir back to where he belonged. Two years ago, Todoroki Shouto announced he wouldn't be the one to replace his father, Todoroki Enji as the owner and CEO of their family business. However, Shouto focused on one part of the Endeavor Corp., particularly their sports and training business, as he wanted to become a personal trainer someday.

Touya was aware of what was happening on the business side of his family despite his rebellion seven years ago. After all, he saw them all over the news, watched his father on TV, and observed how everything was faring for them. So when he returned to the main house, he was a bit surprised at a few details he had missed. For one, his mother, Todoroki Rei, had already been discharged from the mental ward, faring well and welcoming him back with a big, warm hug and fat tears rolling down her cheeks. It also seemed that things were a lot better between his parents, but some of them still held reluctance to forgive their father.

Particularly him and Natsuo.

Enji was aware of their hatred towards him, hence he would talk to them politically, as Enji the CEO of the Endeavor Corp., not as their own father. Touya believed it was only fair. He would've resorted to violence if that wasn't the case. Speaking of which, that was another reason, he returned.

"I have to settle things between this family and me once and for all," he informed them on the first day of his return. "I need to talk to Father."

He knew what Enji would say to him. His father will apologize and be remorseful over what happened. He will also mention about him being his successor in the future, even though he was having none of it.

"I don't need that title anymore," Touya coldly argued, resisting the urge to punch him in the face as he knew he wouldn't defend himself after everything he had done to them since they were kids. "Not from you, specifically."

Enji understood. Touya meant, "I will have that title by my own hands, not because you passed it to me cheap because Shouto didn't want it anymore." Afterwards, his father explained everything he was required to do before his first day in the company. He also mentioned something along the lines of, "You need to undergo rehab and therapy for a while. I knew what you have been up to these past seven years with your cigarette addiction and alcoholism."

Before, Touya would violently react, would be against his decision and say, "You're just scared because I might surpass you." Now, he just nodded at his direction much to Enji's surprise.

"Why are you so shocked? You think I will half-ass my return to this family?" Touya questioned, slightly mocking him.

"I know you wouldn't," Enji commented.

And before Touya left his office, he added: "Just so you know, I am not doing this for the family."

Enji raised a questioning brow.

"I'm doing this because of a certain someone."

------

The first few months of Touya's rehab and therapy were tough as shit, gnawing at him like sharp nails and digging his soul like he was trapped in darkness. He felt overwhelmed by everything, talking about his feelings all day, breaking out of his shell, and slightly wanting to just break things and be alone. Touya craved darkness at some point, the urge to be violent creeping on his shoulder like the devil even though a rational part of him warned him that it would not be the best choice. He wanted to destroy himself at this point, missing the familiar pain his piercings left on his ears and nose. He was breathing hard to calm himself, persuading his brain to shut its damn trap.

It's getting annoying, fucking shit. Everything's been chaotic.

The first few days were blank, spending it staring at mindless paintings and counting how many times the water from the faucet dropped in the sink. It was eerie yet relaxing, the silence enveloping him like a plague until it bit back to tell him how much madness he needed to unleash but couldn't. He secretly had his mp3 player in his pocket, and he would watch the door and the shadow underneath, checking if someone would come in. To this day, he still couldn't take it out.

He missed that damn voice, but he needed to be patient. He shouldn't miss her. He shouldn't think about her. This is nothing, he convinced himself. This is nothing compared to all the abuse I've endured before. The angry stare. The hateful remarks. The violent beatings. The disapproval underlying Enji's tone. His rough hand smacking him in the face. The burning scars left on his skin from the heating iron. The pitiful stares. The blood he spat from his mouth.

Everything.

EVERYTHING.

I WANNA DIE.

Out of panic, he quickly reached for the mp3 player from his pocket, a secret he kept from the treatment center. He wasn't supposed to have any gadgets with him, but he knew he had to. He couldn't drink alcohol. He couldn't smoke a stick to curb this annoying feeling. He cannot destroy shit. But he had to hear that soothing voice. He had to endure.

He put in the earbuds and played the audio, his breathing coming down in sighs as he felt himself relaxing.

"Touya..."

"Yes, call me that," he said to no one, tears streaming down as he smiled in satisfaction.

"Touya..."

"Touya..."

"Are you awake?"

"I made you breakfast."

"Touya..."

"Do you want me to take an off day from work?"

"Yes," he answered, hugging the pillow beside him and imagining it was her. "Just stay. Stay with me."

"Touya..."

"I love you..."

"Touya..."

I love you too.

------

Touya has learned something, and that therapy was another form of circle from hell, or that was just him. He heard people preach about therapy all the time, that undergoing therapy healed them, made them see the light at the end of the tunnel, and had them humbled in a way they could never explain. Touya wished it was the same for him, but nah. It wasn't. Therapy was another circle from hell. It made him too vulnerable, too open he could feel the burnt scars on his skin itching too much the more the therapist asked him about himself.

He also thought his therapist couldn't care less about his minimal responses, the first few days boring him as the man asked about his name, how old he was, what he did for a living after he ran away, what helped him cope—you know, the basic questions every therapist could ask for.

"Todoroki Touya. 26. I did odd jobs. Alcohol. Cigarettes. Fighting."

The therapist looked displeased, he noted. He probably wanted more answers than that.

"Have you been in therapy before?"

"No."

"What do you expect from this session?"

"I don't know."

"Why are you seeking therapy?"

If he was being honest, Touya's answer would be: "I don't know? Just to get this shit done, I guess?" Not like he would be rude now. After all, he returned as Todoroki Touya after seven years of rebelling. He should keep his damn trap if he wanted them all back.

Even her.

"Do you want to become a better person?"

"Yes."

next chap

masterlist

[skibidilando]

A Day at quadrant: LN4 (Part 2)

Author note: I don’t even know how to post anything on this and never wrote a fic but I hope this is good but I think it’s pretty shit and I haven’t finished it yet and if any writers want to use this idea you can for sure just @ me please oh and if you have feedback please let me know thanks xx

Also i tried to change my like writing style thing cause i feel like it was shit last time but yeah idk

Lando x quadrant fem reader

Blurb: reader is a member of quadrant, she games most of the time but also likes f1 along with her best friend Ria bish. She is friends with all members at quadrant and finds it a good laugh with all her mates, but maybe her view of someone in particular is more than a mate..

Warnings: sexualising, swearing, mention of a gun, leaked tape, sad distraught reader, friends to maybe lovers if I make it a series? Smut-ish? If I missed any let me know (I don’t know how to do warnings sorry x)

Well wasn't last week a fucking eventful week. You still cant stop thinking about Lando right next to you comforting you about what happened. You're starting to feel better about the whole issue and get some support from people online and all the other members of quadrant, but fuck that was just shit. You haven't been in any quadrant videos since, but you're in a better place now and probably need to start participating in them more.

Lando and ethan make the idea of quadrant meeting up at landos apartment and trying to train like him for a day. You aren't exactly looking foward to it but oh well, at least Ria is going. You text your gc back and tell them that you will do it too. Then, you get a message.

Lando: are you 100% sure ur okay to come back and film already? you dont have to if you dont want to.

Y/n: yep. I need to get in more videos and im feeling better anyways, thanks for asking.

Lando: all good

Well that was polite and unexpected of Lando to reach out, but whats more unexpected is for your panties to be soaked right now over 2 text messages. well fuck, oopsies.

That night all you can think of is Lando, it's a bit embarrassing to admit, but he was circling around your head like it was an f1 race. You decide to get your head out of it and call Ria to come over and have a chat, since she is your best friend after all. Shortly she pulls up to your apartment in Monaco, funning in bursting of excitement to see you.

"RIAAAAAAA!" you shout when you open the door for her. "Y/NNNN" she replied back. You give her a hug and make her a cup of coffee just how she likes it. You guys sit and chat about the f1 grand prix in Bahrain coming up, and how you hope Lando continues to have a good season with Oscar this year. "Did you see the chat about the new yt vid we doing" You ask Ria. "omg yes and they are bringing angry ginge in I heard" Ria replies back.

"STOP IT" you yell back laughing. You love ginge and his videos, who wouldn't? he's a very very funny bloke. "OMG i''m definitely coming tomorrow then to the recording are you kidding?".

Unfortunately time goes by when you're having fun, and Ria was the most fun, so she had to go a few hours later which felt like minutes. Besides you both need sleep for the youtube vid you're filming tmr at Lando's. You go to bed and try to sleep as much as you can, which didnt happen lol.

rise and shine love. It's already 6am and time to go to Lando's place to film. Normally you don't have to wakeup early as fuck but for the purpose of the video and "being Lando Norris" you had no choice. You get to his apartment after parking at the front and knock on the door, to which he opens. "hi y/n" he says nicely and gives you a hug. "So good to see you Lando, where is everyone?".

"first here mate" he says almost excitedly. "so what are we actually doing today like playing video games or some shit" you say. "haha your funny mate, we are lifting weights, eating what i eat, using the sim, and neck strengthening" he says laughing at you. "fuck r u taking the piss" you say laughing. "oh my days Landoooo do I look like an f1 driver" you also reply with. "well yeah thats the whole point of the video ya dumb fuck" he replied jokingly.

"hahaha get fucked lando nowins" you snap back. he laughs as you proceed to miss the chair you went to lean on making you flinch and stumble looking like an idiot. he is still laughing which makes you laugh too. "Lando norizz" u reply. "haha you think I have no rizz, funny" he replies egotistically. "yeah i do actually" you don't at all, in fact he hasn't even tried yet he has rizzed you up. "wanna bet?" he snaps out.

you don't have time to think before he pins you against the wall and just looks at you with those hot eyes of his. you can already feel your cheeks burning and your thong getting wet. "you say I have no rizz yet your cheeks are burning, and I bet those panties are more soaked than that porridge you tipped over the counter when you stumbled at my gaze, huh?" he grunts out.

what the fuck just happened, first how did he know and secondly did he just pin you against the wall. not the first time you want that to happen. you know what fuck it if we wants to be like that then he may as well be uncomfortable the whole video.

"how did you know about my tight, black lacy thong i'm wearing over my tight pussy hey? not your first time thinking about it aye?" you tease him, but while walking over to him you see him looking uneasy.

why? because ginge was at the fucking door and heard that, and can see Lando's boner from a mile away. "well bonjour" ginge says laughing. "bonjour mate" lando says as he daps up ginge covering his boner and trying to ignore what just happened.

You already know this video is gonna be the longest set of your life..

sorry its a short one x

[itmeansiris]

The Solar System Legacy Challenge: Shopping Spree Gen 1 pt.80

When the group of women and Dite left to go shopping Kiersten and M joked the whole trip about going to the Brindelton Bridal shop to find bridesmaid dresses and fit Winter for a wedding dress. Winter protested the whole way. She'd even threatened to seal their feet to the ground with magic if they so much as set foot in the store.

Instead, they headed for the Halloween store to find costumes for the Spooky Day party. Inside, Winter and M immediately started trying on outfit's. Kiersten walked around with Dite looking but not trying anything on as M and Winter posed in front of the shop's many mirrors.

Winter: Check it out. I'm an angel.

M laughed wrapping her arms around Winter's shoulder.

M: You might be growing an angel but you sure as hell aren't one. Nice touch with the white wings, when did you learn to do that?

Winter: A trick I learned while training Adrianne on wing control.

Dite raced over hardly able to contain her excitement.

Aphrodite: Mom I think Kiersten found the perfect costumes for you guys. Hurry, Come see!

M and Winter changed out of their ridiculous costumes and headed over to the mannequins where Kiersten and Aphrodite were waiting. When they got closer M realized what they were looking at and Winter gasped.

Winter: I knew we were going to be good friends.

M: Wait. There are only 5. What about you and Rufus?

Kiersten looked at her a little sheepishly.

Kiersten: Rufus and I already have our costumes. Sorry M, we've been planning them since we got our invite in the mail.

M: It's okay. Me, Kason, Winter, Peyton. We need someone to wear the last one.

Winter: I have someone in mind.

With the costume debacle settled, they yanked the costumes from the rack and quickly checked out. Having fulfilled their immediate shopping needs Kiersten headed home. She'd gotten a text from Rufus and the boys but promised to come over to M's tomorrow to hang out again. Her and Winter shared a hug before she took off.

The rest of the group wandered the mall for a while. Winter eventually veered off, stopping in a maternity store while M and Aphrodite took a couple of graceless laps around the indoor ice-skating rank.

M eventually bowed out having spotted Winter at one of the café tables. Not wanting to risk further injury, on shaky legs, she half walked, half skated towards the exit hugging the rails closely. Aphrodite, ever the perfectionist, was determined to master the ice so she stayed a little longer.

M: Sweetie, I'll be over at the table with Auntie Winter. When you're ready we can head to the equine store.

Mercury joined Winter at the small table, the café was void of other patrons, likely due to the light snowfall that had begun outside. Winter was fiddling with a small grey box that had a clear screen and something floating inside.

M: What is that thing?

Winter: Stupid physic box they gave me with my purchase at the maturity store. Seems like a pretty useless thing to give to an expecting mother.

M: Or a spellcaster for that matter.

Winter tucked the toy away in one of her shopping bags and turned her attention back to M. The café started to fill up around them and a waiter approached.

Waiter: Hello ladies. Can I get you anything?

They politely declined. The waiter smiled and moved on to the next table greeting them with the same warm tone and bright smile to match her floral attire.

M: So are you gonna tell me when you found out you were having baby number four was it?

Winter groaned resting her head in her hand, yet she was smiling.

Winter: When you say it like that it sounds sorta crazy. We knew since your dads funeral. I was kind of suspicious, my magic was starting to stir without good reason.

M: How did Peyton take the news? I never imagined him a father of four though I guess I never imagined you with four kids either

Winter: He took it as well as the other three times honestly. He hardly blinked an eye. He just smiled and went on like it was a normal day.

M: He's grown up so much in the last 10 years. It's amazing to see who he's become.

Winter: Look at you all smiley and happy. You would never believe there was a demon terrorizing your life.

Mercury's smile didn't fade. She sat forward, arms resting on the table, and stared at them with a hint of sadness.

M: I'm just happy to see you is all. It's been far too long, I need to make it my business to come and see you more. Now that Zoh's a toddler he can handle the ride to San Myshuno.

Winter: Newcrest.

She corrected. M shook her head and huffed.

M: Right, Newcrest. It's so strange, you guys not living in the city.

Winter: It was weird at first but the kids love it and it's a better space for them to practice their magic freely without someone getting hurt or something getting broken.

M saw Aphrodite approaching, so she stood.

M: Well San Myshuno or Newcrest I'm coming to see you.

Winter stood and hugged her friend.

Winter: Don't be so hard on yourself. I'm not saying don't come but cut yourself some slack. You've been where I'm headed and traveling with 4 small kids would have been a disaster. It made since for us to travel to you. I love you Mercury.

M: Come on. I promised Dite we would go to High Horse Fashion.

Winter: Violionist and a horse wrangler. I wonder where she got that from? Spirit maybe?

M chucked and shrugged her shoulders as they headed for the door.

M: I have no clue.

Aphrodite pushed the large barn-like doors open and darted inside ahead of her mother and aunt. She ran over to the far wall staring at all the equipment lining the shelves.

M: Dite don't run in the store, please.

Winter: I'll look over here.

M stood behind her daughter when she broached an interesting question

Aphrodite: Hey mom do you think I can start getting an allowance?

M: I don't see why not. Any particular reason you're asking now?

Aphrodite pointed up at a coat hanging high on the wall.

Aphrodite: I want to buy that coat.

M smiled ever surprised by how Dite displayed her growing maturity.

M: Absolutely kiddo. Now I think we should find your riding clothes.

Instead of heading home after they finished their shopping spree, Winter suggested they hit the bowling lanes not ready to end the day. When they arrived Dite went upstairs to the kid's arcade where she would likely play Don't Wake the Llama as opposed to an actual arcade game. Winter and M checked in at the desk retrieving the overly used standard red and blue blowing shoes but never put them on. They sat by their assigned lane never bowling a single round, They sat talked losing track of time until Aphrodite complained she was ready to go home.

Winter spent the night with M. Kason always the gentlemen, offered up his place in bed and agreed to sleep downstairs on the sofa for the night. Winter tucked in that night thrilled at the time they spent with her closest friend but slightly relieved that she would be reunited with her husband and children in a few hours.

Previous Next

Beginning

Builds

Gallery ID: Abaybay514 High Horse Fashion is a retail 30x20 lot

Gallery ID: Mandykay77 Halloween Costume Shop is a retail 40x30 lot

Gallery ID: keongemini1 Brindelton Bay Mall is a retail 64x64 lot

Poses

@ratboysims sitting emotions & Parent and kid poses

@simcredibledesigns shopping bags

@plazasims Halloween set

Mods

@littlemssam Allowance Mod

[dulcewrites]

Fool Me Once (part 8)

Pairing: Aemond targaryen x reader (once again.. kind of lol)

Summary: Daella achieves a feat, while you reach your breaking point. Startling discovery is unearthed in King's Landing (wc: 5.5k)

A/N: ok… so a lot happens in this part. We have some shit we need to handle. And we are officially getting into the political stuff. I don’t really have much to preface this with but I hope y’all enjoy lmao. Please reblog, like, and follow. Also come and chat if you read anything you like.

Fmo masterlist

Young Landyn Massey turns out to be a much-needed addition while at Dragonstone. Terribly shy but extremely useful. Unassuming, clearly in need of a friend and quiet as a mouse; the perfect person to have to suit your needs.

His fascination with you had seem to spiral itself into hero worship for Quinton. A young member of the Kingsguard that stood out against the few older ones that occupied Dragonstone under Rhaenyra’s behest. He had even gone as far to ask for lessons from him.

“I am sure you can learn something from watching Prince Daemon,” you say over breaking your fast. “He must be tending to Jacaerys and Lucerys’ swordsmanship.”

Landyn shakes his head, blonde curls flopping with him. “He does not teach the princes.”

Quinton and you exchange a look.

“Their good father has not been continuing their training lessons?”

“Most of the training has been overseen by Ser Darklyn, but it is few and far between,” he shovels more bread and jam into his mouth.

For all the faults Daemon has, he is skilled with the sword and an accomplished warrior. Former leader of the Gold Cloaks that has also seen actual battle. Not taking it upon himself to help his sons after they missed years of training is an inditement on their relationship to you.

Dragons to their names are of course assets, but that does not mean their dragons will always be around. Protection for them seems of no concern for them. No protection for the boys, no attention for the girls. It makes you wonder what Daemon and Rhaenyra have been doing the past six years; the priority seems to lie in creating more heirs. Heirs that ironically bluster and hinder Rhaenyra’s claim. She has true born Targaryen sons that stand in clear contrast to ones she had before Daemon.

“I am sure Ser Quinton can show you something.”

Quinton raises his dark brows, and you raise yours back. He sighs, but agrees, nonetheless. Landyn leaves the two of you in the hurry once his lady mother calls for him.

While pouring more tea, you notice Quinton staring at you incredulously.

“What,” your shoulders slump. You lower your voice a bit. “I know it may be a bit much have a kid follow you around, but I think it is from a good place. If you really do not want to teach him anything, I can tell him.”

He shakes his head, before scratching the scruff on his face. “It has nothing to do with him. I want to know what you’re up to.”

You try to put on a look of confusion.

“I know you, and I know where this is going,” he frowns softly. “All I can ask is that if you confront him or ask anything or him, you do it with me in the room.”

Quinton’s distain for Daemon has been well documented since being at Dragonstone. He doesn’t seem to trust him nor Rhaenyra, but he manages to hold his tongue about the named heir. You lean over and grab his hand.

“I will not do anything with Daemon without you knowing.”

He nods slowly, choosing to believe you despite knowing how your impulses and restlessness seems to be carrying you these days. You received a long lecture from him when he could not find you in your chambers one evening. His tone softened when told him that you walked the halls of the castle after not being able to sleep. It was a particularly fussy night for Alaric, who you finally lulled to sleep.

It was not exactly a lie, the same way telling him you would not deal with Daemon without him was not a lie. You did walk the halls, not able to sleep. Since coming to Dragonstone, you have had the most vivid dreams. Fire, blood, rich black hair attached to a faceless woman. It keeps you up at night. Who is she, and what does she want with you?

You left out that you tried to get into Daemon’s study just to realize it was locked.

You don’t plan on confronting Daemon. He is too much of a wild card for that. Why confront him for the truth when there are other avenues?

———

The day flies by and by the night, you find yourself in Baela’s apartments. The two of you in your dressing grown, all ready for bed. She sat at her vanity while you stood behind her. You gently oiled her silvery blonde curls. It was a soothing pastime that you did with Daella too. There was even time that Aemond let you brush his hair before bed. You were always envious of how soft it was.

“May I ask you something a bit… personal,” Baela’s voice cuts through the peaceful silence within the room. You nod, meeting her eye in the mirror.

“How did your labors go?”

The question takes you a bit by surprise. Being a mother is such a large part of your life but having your children is something you push out of your memories. The whole experience was scary enough, not even mentioning everything going on in your life at the time. When you had Daella, there are was excitement but debilitating fear of being a mother. With Alaric, your mind strayed to bringing another child into this mess of a family.

You knew Baela lost her mother lost to do child birth; the last thing you want to do is make her more scared.

“They were hard and painful,” you admit. Upsetting her was not your intention, but lying does no one any good in a life-or-death situation like labor. “But the septas and maesters that tended to me were helpful, and in the end, it was all worth it. Daella took longer while Alaric came fast.”

She nods slightly before looking down at her hands.

“I understand if you have reservations about marriage and children. Perhaps you can speak with Rhaenyra about it. I am sure she had similar worries.”

The suggestion is sincere on your part. If anyone could quell the anxiousness of childbirth and fear over your life being expendable for heirs, it would be the Princess. Baela looks up, something dark flashing behind her eyes. You had always scoffed at the notion of her being like her father. Baela is all warmth and good-natured wit that you assume she got from her mother, but you see him in the look she gives you.

As if she is one bad day away from burning a place to the ground.

“You feel unprepared for it all. That is not unusual.”

You comb through her curls with your fingers. “But on the bright side, you will be our future queen.”

The smile you put on fights to be earnest. The realm will sooner burn than having a clear bastard running it. Jacaerys taking the throne means Rhaenyra managed to get through her reign. Both things seem like far-fetched aspirations.

“Rhaena and I always joke that she has the temperament to be Queen, far more than me,” she laughs, then a mirthless look comes over her face. “We also talked about ruling Driftmark together… when we were young.”

She waves her hand as if to swipe away memories floating around her.

“Well, it technically could be your birthright,” you walk a tight line. “You are the first born twin of the eldest daughter of you grandparents. Of course you would imagine yourself as Lady of the Tides. Especially after your wardship with your grandmother.”

She finally turns to you as you pick up a damp towel to wipe the oil off your hands.

“It is not that I mind Lucerys, not at all but…”

Baela trials off.

“I understand. I am not naive to enough to think that if my lady mother and father were able to conceive another child, a boy, that I would be able to inherit whatever my father leaves for me,” you try to steer the conversation in the direction you want. “It is why when the time comes, I hope that Daella and Alaric are both able to take advantage of the fruits of my families’ labor.”

You brush a stray curl behind her ear. “You are allowed to be upset at father, Rhaenyra, the order of things, or at your situation. You are owed that at least.”

A part of you doesn’t know if you were saying that more for her…. or for you.

Aemond is going to choke his brother to death. It would leave his mother down a child, and his nephews and niece fatherless, but he thinks it would be a necessary evil.

The beginning of the day was spent placating his mother and trying not to strangle his siblings. First, Helaena let Jaehaerys get a hold of one his books on the First Men. He confronted her about the missing pages, and all he received in return was a shrug.

“That is not my problem, brother.”

He was sure he was in one of her moods. Helaena, who normally had the patience and will of several people put together, all but snapped at him. Looking back on it, he should have asked if it has to do with something she saw. She hated to be disturbed immediately after a dream.

The rest of the morning went just as bad. His mother had forced him to break his fast with your parents and her. It might have been nice if Aegon did not show up. Chipper, cheeks flushed, and a letter in hand. He does not say who it is from, but the smugness permeates from him. The whole meal is filled with Aegon making pointed comments, and Alicent trying to steer the conversation in a different direction.

There was a sense of relief when both him and Aegon were excused from the table. The older adults chatting about remedies for the cough your mother had mom down with.

“Do you want to go train,” Aegon began to follow him from the dining hall.

“No.”

All he wanted to do was lay down.

“You know, when we were younger, I always hoped you grow out of the moodiness,” Aegon fakes a wistful sigh. “But here you are, a man grown who pouts and sulks his days away.”

Aemond snorted, that was rich coming from Aegon. If it was something he had in common with not only his siblings but with his mother, it was the ability to wallow when they want to.

Alicent used to tell him that certain people were meant to have lingering, lifelong happiness while others had to cherish their fleeting moments. She always said it in the tone that implied that they were the people with fleeting moments.

He ignored Aegon despite his brother following him into his apartments. Helaena was sitting on the couch, large black book sitting in her lap.

“I came to replace the book,” she holds it out, blank look on her face. “It is from grandsire’s collection, but I do not think he will notice.”

She goes to leave, but Aegon stops her. “Please tell our darling brother that he would be so much more handsome if he smiled more.”

Helaena shrugs off the arm he placed around her shoulder. She looks at both at her brothers in mild annoyance.

“Do not mind him Hel, he is just excited his weekly dose of sympathy and attention flew in.”

Aegon’s round eyes narrow a bit. “And where is your letter, Aemond. Or must you get updates on your children from other people.”

“She told me she was not going to right,” the words burn on his tongue and lips. You did tell him it would be better to limit communication. That you would always check in on your and kids’ safety through other avenues. But he feels like an idiot explaining it to Aegon.

His brother has a special way of making him feel that way.

“You two-“

Helaena tries to interrupt their argument.

“I know you worry about what I would do to your wife if given the chance, but have you ever thought about what your wife wants to do to me?”

“Aegon-“

Helaena tries again, more forcefully this time, but it is too late. Aemond shoved his brother, and received an equally rough one in return. He does not remember how they ended up on the ground, but he does remember feeling Aegon’s teeth sink into his flesh.

Helaena stood there for a moment, wondering how this was her life. The sight before her made her feel like she was four and ten again, watching her brothers fight each other in the training yard. Like then, the only thing she could think of was finding Criston. The only saving Grace being the master apartments are near Aemond’s.

Criston sighed at the sight of them but pulled them apart in easy fashion. Years of practice under his belt. The look of exhaustion that he gave them was nothing compared to the berating tone of the lecture their mother gave them afterwards. Auburn curls bouncing as she paced around the room.

It was the typical spiel that Alicent gave her kids when she felt the arguments had gotten too personal. Reminding them that they are family; fights will happen, but there is always a line. They are brothers they will need to depend on each other more than they know. She made them apologize to each other. Aegon and Aemond mumbled out apologies to each other, then ones to Alicent.

Now Aemond laid in bed. A cloth filled with ice lays over his head. Your perfume still lingers on the sheets.

Little does Aegon know is that Aemond does laugh and smile a lot. In the privacy of his own space, he is endlessly amused at how his life has turned out. The irony of the situation is not lost on him. It sits dip in his stomach daily. His days are spent rotating the same thoughts and people in his head.

You, the kids… her.

There was a time that meeting Alys was considered a breath of fresh from the monotony that plagued his life. He knows you would never believe it now, and perhaps he cannot blame you, but it did not start off as affair. Or even looking for one. The map was something that sat in the back of his mind for years till one day he just needed to get out. The day he met Alys gets fuzzier and fuzzier as time goes on. As if someone asked him to draw someone he had not seen in years from memory.

He strangely started to understand Aegon’s attempts at getting out of the castle. Having something that was just for himself. But in the end, nothing is ever just for him. There were moments he should have noticed something was not right. He is smarter than that. Maybe it was the common sense that ironically kept him so dense.

If he admitted it was too good to be true, if he questioned it the way he questioned everything else, the happiness would be ephemeral. And as manufactured of the kind he was used to.

Alys asked about you. He always chalked it up to sheer curiosity. He was curious about the men she had been with, why would she not wonder about the woman he had children with.

“At first I thought it was the blonde woman I kept seeing,” she comes and stands behind the chair Aemond was sitting in. “Then the more I saw her, the more picked up on the resemblance.

A gentle hand works up his back, and dances across his neck.

“She is pretty.” The hand worked its way into Aemond’s hair. “But the other woman I saw… oh, she is much more my type.”

Alys tugs his head back gently. A languid smile traced across her face. A smile he has grown accustomed to. Alys saw and knew so much; there was a slight thrill of not knowing what she was thinking all the time. But the biggest rush came from her honesty with him. Though knowing she thought about his wife left his throat feeling tight.

She lets go of his hair to sit near the fire, green eyes trained on the flames.

“If I only I could see her more…”

He wanted to ask what Alys saw when you showed up in her fires. Aemond is so selfishly interested in his wife through the eyes of other, even now.

The three of you will forever be deeply intwined. The roots of a dead tree bonded together till the rot finally takes over.

As days begin to blur together while at Dragonstone, you notice how restless Daella has become. Her energy and ability to strike up interest anything and everything was nothing new, but something felt different.

She begged and pleaded to see a different part of the island. You use it as an excuse to get away from it all.

Daella chats away, while skipping down the steps. She enthusiastically points to dragons flying around the fortress. It something you had have to get used to. At least at King’s Landing, to see any dragons you would go to the dragon pit; a secure place. Here, they fly and move amongst themselves. They are the true inhabitants of the island, everyone else are the guests.

She rattles off fact Rhaenyra had told her about Syrax. A bright look in her eyes.

Your daughter is so painfully good natured, it makes you wonder what a cruel image of fate for her to be born into this family dynamic. You like to believe she will grow up to be the good parts of you and Aemond. Same with her brother; praying that your mistakes will not eventually be theirs.

Once you two clear a rocky path, you swing towards the back of the castle. It was a back passage that Jacaerys had shown you one day.

“I want to see the flowers, please.”

You laugh a bit. Septa Margery had been trying to instill in Daella that being a lady requires saying please and thank you. Now most of her orders are at least followed by one of the two.

“We can see the garden, but you need to promise me you will eat all of your f-“

A guttural roar breaks up the conversation, and you freeze. It sounds closer than comfort. The ugly and throaty nature of it reminds you of Vhagar. A cry to send fear through those who hear it.

A large breath of hot air hits your back. It takes a moment for you to finally turn around.

“Oh, fucking hells,” you breath out.

The dragon has to be almost as large as Vhagar. Bronze scales with large tan wings. Golden eyes lock in on you and your daughter. You feel the tiny hands tug on your dress, and a face burying itself behind your thigh. The dragon begins to stalk slowly towards you, like a cat cornering a mouse.

This is not how you want to die, at the behest of a dragon. It would be twisted fate for that to happen. Far from home, on an island you hate with people you try to tolerate. Your children need you but you need them alive more than anything. She does not budge. Instead, she peaks her head from behind you.

The dragon stops in its tracks for a moment, and stares. Yellow eyes zeroing in, gray teeth shows as it pulls its mouth back.

“Daella, I need you to go,” you reiterate once the dragon begins to walk again.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Caraxes’ distinct red scales circling around the scene in curiosity. You cannot make out his rider on top of him.

The bronze dragon in front of you comes closer, as you try to take small steps back. It extends his neck, and you close your eyes expectantly. This is it you think. Your demise. You say a small prayer for everyone. For Alaric to grow up well, and your parents to not mourn you too deeply. You pray that Helaena lives a happy life, and Aegon finds his purpose. That Alicent’s life gets a bit easier. You do not want Quinton to beat himself up over this. You even send a thought out that Aemond finds some peace in his life so can take care of his son. You especially pray the Mother forgives for putting your daughter in this situation.

A loud screech blares out from the dragon as you feel the wind of breath brushing fiercely against you. You squeeze your eyes shut harder, waiting for the inevitably to come but it never does. By the time you finally have the courage to open your eyes the dragon has flown away. Rush past the castle and towards the mount.

The tears that welled in your eyes fall as you watch in confusion. You know little about dragons and chose to keep it that way. But from small doses you do know, you had never heard of a dragon pausing when it could likely eat you if it wanted.

A sense of dread pools in your stomach as you look down at Daella who had come from behind your leg, and stares towards the Dragonmount.

— — —

The event earlier has been on your mind all day. To the point where your palms inched to write Aemond. If anyone would tell you want you should do, it is him. But you worry a letter addressed to him and sent to King’s Landing would not go through proper channels. You had managed to keep all your letters back there almost farcically lighthearted in fear someone was watching you the way you are watching this family.

An idea pops into your head as you search for parchment to write on. If you cannot write to King’s Landing, perhaps a letter somewhere else may work.

A soft knock breaks you away from your writing.

“Come in Quinton.”

He always checks in on you before you go to bed. When the door opens, it is not inky brown hair that catches your attention, but instead bright blonde.

Daemon is still in his dragon egg gathering gear. Stipes of red and black adorning him. Quinton’s words ring out in your ear. Where is he?

“I hope I am not disturbing you,” he smiles softly. You pull your changing gown around you and shake your head.

“I heard the most interesting story about something that happened earlier today,” your heart sinks as he sits on the bench in front of the bed. “It seems that one of the dragons that normally inhabitants the Dragonmount has gotten out.”

You know you have two choices. Lie or admit to what occurred.

“Oh Gods, well I hope nothing bad has happened.”

The mirth on his face only grows. “You are odd little bird aren’t you.”

He gets up and comes behind you at the desk. Your eyes instantly go back to floor. He sighs as if he was hoping this conversation would go better, that you would choose diffently.

“Vermithor will notnstop till Daella acknowledges him as her dragon. He has not been around people for quite some time.”

A lonely, unruly dragon could wreak havoc if not claimed properly.

“She is just a girl,” it sounds pitiful as soon as it rolls off your tongue. But it is the truth. She is a little girl, your little girl.

“She is a Targaryen,” Daemon rebutted, “Being a dragon rider is a part of her blood. Not many get this opportunity.”

Your mind strays to Rhaena, and how much she hopes for a dragon. How much she hopes it will manage to make Daemon into a better father.

“You do not have to give me the ‘it is privilege to have the blood of the dragon’ speech. This is not about my daughter embracing something. It is about another dragon being accounted for.”

Daemon chuckles at your boldness, softly then louder. The laughing goes on longer than is comfortable.

“I am sure you have noticed how fond our future queen is of you. It would be of your best interest, and the best interest of your children, to understand what advantages can come from that,” Daemon’s voice lowers. “Creating the best future for your children includes aligning them with those who can properly take care of them.”

There something left unsaid in the air. Daemon speaks in riddles and tones that makes everyone feel like they are not in the plan.

“Daella and little Aegon could be betrothed,” his words make your head snap up at him. “And in the future, mayhaps that will benefit her and you.”

You flitch when you feel his hand brush your hair from your shoulder. The urge to let out blood curdling scream creeps up your throat.

“I trust that in the end you will make the right decision. It would be such a shame if something… bad were to happen because of it.”

Daemon leaves without another word. You had never felt colder in your life. A wave a nausea rush over you.

That night when you try to sleep, it is not the faceless woman who haunts your nightmares. It is Daemon, covered in Rhaenyra and Aegon’s blood. Crooked smile on his face and Dark Sister in his hand.

Aemond wakes to commotion in his room. He feels fingers pitch his nose, leading him to gasp for air. He expects to see Aegon standing over him, instead the figure is taller, skinner. A deep frown on his young face.

“Daeron?”

He is wearing Hightower green riding armor, hair askew from what Aemond assumes is the wind. Aemond glanced outside the window and sees the sun just starting to come up.

“What did you do?”

The question makes him stare at Daeron for a fraction too long. He’s sprouted up like a weed the way Aemond did when he was that age, all limbs. With blonde curls he makes no effort to tame like Alicent. Aegon’s smile and Helaena’s nose. Aemond likes thinking of his younger brother as a sum of all their parts. All their best parts, not muddled by life.

He thinks about Daeron of all people being upset with him, and a bile works up his throat.

“Because you can imagine my confusion when I get a letter from my good sister saying she is at Dragonstone, without you, and that she is now worried because and I quote ‘her little girl might have claimed a fucking dragon’.”

Aemond’s trance seems to be broken at that.

“Daella what!”

Aemond reaches for what is it Daeron’s hand, but he moves his hand away.

“What did you do,” Daeron asks again, this time softer.

“We are having problems.”

It is the simplest way he can explain it. It is too early in the morning, and his mind is still on his daughter possibly claiming a dragon. There is a feeling of relief of one of the kids reaching that feat. He knows the situation is not the same thing, but he would never want either of them to feel the inadequacy he did growing up without one.

Daeron sighs and sits on the bed next to him. “Apparently she claimed Vermithor.”

Aemond brows shoot up in response.

“Even your kids can’t do anything small,” Daeron laughs, before growing quiet again. “You need to fix this. All of it. Whatever it maybe.”

Daeron also inherited the light spirit Aegon had as a boy. Anger and frustration are not things that bog down the youngest child. Aemond knows he is upset by the serious look on his face.

—— —

Alicent was woken up by guards alerting her of Daeron’s arrival. The joy of seeing her son was quickly replaced by confusion and worry. Daeron always wrote before he came to visit.

“I just missed my siblings, and you of course,” he said brightly, giving her a kiss on the cheek before scurrying off to see his brothers and sister.

She knows there is something more, there always is with her kids. But her mood had only improved even more since seeing him. She naively wanted to embrace her son, who she misses dearly, without having to fret over why he was there.

Alicent always felt like she had to fight to keep her head above water. Lately, she felt like she could breathe a bit easier. She tried not to lend it to the letters Rhaenyra had been sending her. It made her feel like a girl again, in the worst and best ways.

Rhaenyra would mention something baby Viserys had done, and it was easy to forget the years of bad blood. Other days, she would mention Viserys the elder or slip in Daemon’s name, and Alicent could not help but think - sometimes I have not fully forgiven you.

She cannot fully put aside the years she spent alone at court. A young mother without her father. She cannot fully put aside the blatant lies. Alicent knows Rhaenyra does not make these mistakes or steps over others for malicious reasons. At least she convinces herself of such. But Rhaenyra does expect others to go along with the lies, even at the expense of their own safety. Some days, Alicent is sure selfishness is the only thing Viserys decided to pass onto his daughter.

But then Alicent thinks of Rhaenyra’s smile, and one always manages to spread across her face.

Their relationship is not perfect, but then again it has never been. Even in the throes of innocence when they were girls. So, she takes the letters in stride and writes back with the enthusiasm she reads in Rhaenyra’s.

Alicent goes to make her rounds to see Viserys. Over the years, she had assumed it was her sole duty to take care of him herself. The reigns had been lessened over the past few weeks. She let the maesters tend to him more, as she tried to prioritize her time to other avenues she lost over her girlhood.

She had begun drawing again, reading literature that had nothing to do with the Seven Kingdoms or diplomacy. It was nice. Entirely too nice. She should have known the Gods would punish her because of it. When she walks into the King’s chambers pass the lint covered model.

“Viserys,” she calls out softly. He is flat on his back, eyes closed. He is always irritable after being woken up, but he needs to try and get something on his stomach.

“My King,” Alicent tries again, sitting on the edge of the bed.

Viserys had not smelled right for over a decade, but something felt different this time. Slowly, Alicent leans her head over his chest, trying to her the murmur of a weak heartbeat. Seconds of silence go by before Alicent snaps her head up in shock. She covers her mouth as a choke sob fights its way up her throat.

Their were times she dreamt of this day. Of being the one that finally ends this cycle, smothering him in his sleep, slipping some poison. Even something with gore like a knife to his good eye, as revenge for her Aemond. But now that it is here, all Alicent feels is cold all over.

Viserys is dead, and she is once again alone.

You do not remember when the sleep walking started. It feels silly blaming your sleep problems on Dragonstone. A building you have no connection to changing your mood. The trip you insisted you must take leaving you debilitated.

The first time you catch yourself in the hallway. The next time in the dining hall. Quinton had insisted on making his night shifts longer, but you refused, not wanting him to lose precious sleep because of your bad habits. Your lack of sleep had made you snappy, and even more paranoid. The nightmares do not help. All you see when you close your eyes is black hair, and green eyes. The faceless woman image started to become clearer.

Shocking chill is what makes you wake this time. A flush of panic watches over you when you look down to find the bottom of your night gown in the water of the beach. The sun in beginning to rise over the horizon. Drudging yourself through the water is paused when you notice a figure on the beach.

The figure is wearing a flowy grey dress. Black hair, red lips curled into a smile. You blink wondering if you were still in the nightmare.

When you open your eyes, you then notice the sharp blade in the woman’s hand. It is a familiar knife. Sparking silver handle with a big sapphire on the end.

Aemond blade… the knife you got him for your first wedding anniversary. It all dawns on you. Who the woman in the nightmares is. Alys.

Your vision blurs red. You are tired of being someone who bad things happen to. Perhaps it is time to make bad things happen.

Tag list: @florent1s @floraroselaughter @afro-hispwriter @snh96 @holy-minseok @voniikg @evienorville @tremendouswolfsaladranch @crispmarshmallow @strawbrryquinn @widemiffyhappy @msmarvel-19 @dc-marvel-girl96 @xkennobi @fanfics4ever @hydrationqueensworld @lyra689 @blazzlynch @httyd-marauders @bregarc @b00kdiary @grey-water-colors @mercedesdecorazon @flowerpotmage @bstorn @poisonedsultana @papery-maniac @its-sam-allgood @yu3kkii @hvx @leoramage @neenieweenie @stargaryenx @rey26 @lazypinkpig @blackravena @s0urmarvel @elleclairez @rebelfleur22 @inpraizeof @luvremlu @clora95 @blacpiink @let-love-bleeds-red @iwanttohitmyself @alastorhazbin @kitkat-writes-stuff @carrielle @aloneatpeace @ensolleildelune @landlockedmermaid77

[tgmsunmontue]

I'd know you anywhere - 3/5

Set when Hangman first meets Rooster. Bradley and Bradford Bradshaw are twins. Most people know this. Some people need to be brought up to speed. Quickly.

Explicit out the gate. Also an everyone is alive AU because I need the softness when I’ve got two other fics on the go with DADT and canon deaths.

ONE TWO

PART THREE

                Jake gets used to it, the purely professional interactions he has with Bradshaw. Theres none of the playful banter he remembers from their first meeting, or the flirty looks. Bradshaw’s eyes just pass over him like nothing ever happened and he hates it. Hates that Bradshaw is also a damned find aviator, matching Jake up in the air and whooping with joy. He compliments Jake on his flying and Jake just smiles tightly and nods, can’t bring himself to say anything, worried he might start spitting poison. They have to work together. He can be professional even if it’s killing a little part of him inside.

                Everyone calls him Roo, even though his helmet has Kangaroo on it. Someone calls him BradBrad and gets an eyeroll in response, a punch to the arm. Jake calls him Bradshaw and gets Seresin in response with a range of polite to friendly but nothing else. Ever. Jake lets the annoyance and bitterness fester a little, but Bradshaw is just so friendly, and well liked and he still finds himself liking him and wishing things were different.

…            …            …

                Bradford laughs and rolls his eyes at the anecdote Lee is telling him. They don’t usually talk much, just send memes back and forth and argue through their phones, save their bitching and moaning for when they’re in person, which is going to be soon. He’s close to being finished with his current deployment, spirits are high with only days until they make landfall and everyone is making plans for their leave. He’s in the rec room finalizing his and Lee’s plans to surprise their parents for their thirtieth wedding anniversary. Something Ice and Mav have been helping them plan for nearly a year, and he knows Ice has pulled strings to ensure that both he and Lee are on leave and returning to their home port for ease of logistics.

                A small group of other aviators enter the rec-room and he sits up from where he’s been lying on of the sofa, doesn’t want to seem like he’s hogging all the space, or that they’re unwelcome. He’s not on the phone with anyone he needs privacy for.

                “Just chatting with my little brother.”

                “Fuck off!” Lee says through the phone and Ford laughs again, spots the wince on Seresin’s face and holds back his own annoyance. He’s given up trying to figure him out or make friends. Some people just aren’t interested.

                “You may be older but I’m definitely bigger.”

                “Yeah, a bigger jerk.”

                “Whatever. I’ll see you next week.”

 …           …            …

                He relaxes into the comfort of their shared apartment, glad to be back in a familiar space. Hugs Lee, glad to see him. They have dangerous jobs and neither of them take for granted the event of coming home safe. They order takeout, settle on the sofa with a couple of beers. When they were younger they always had to have dinner with their parents their first night back, but now their mom has seemed to accept they’ll both be in far better moods if they’re allowed to catch up with each other first if and when the rare occurrence of them both coming off deployment happens at the same time. He’s recounting something, a training exercise, using the little model planes they’ve had since they were kids when he mentions who he was flying with.

                “Wait. You were deployed with Jake?”

                “Uh. Hangman? Yeah. Him and hundreds of others. That guy does not like me…”

                “What do you mean?”

                “Uh. He doesn’t like me? I never asked him why, just… He was fine. Professional. He didn’t mention knowing you.”

                “Oh my god…”

                “What?”

                “I… I had sex with him.”

                Bradford stares at him, processing the words.

                “You slept with Hangman?”

                “Yeah.”

                “Wait. You slept with a guy without doing the whole dinner and dates first?”

                “Fuck off Ford…”

                “Oookay… what the fuck?” Ford asks, because Lee and him banter and take the shit out of each other plenty, but this is hurt Lee, angry Lee, the one that lashes out with his barbed tongue and then has to apologize and grovel later. Ford is generally far more even-keeled and calm, but he’s usually the one that enjoys the no-strings attached sex.

                “He ghosted me.”

                “He ghosted you? When did all this go down?”

                “Right before you left,” Lee mutters. Bradford feels a sinking sensation in his stomach. Oh shit… “He just… blanked me. Didn’t answer my messages and then blocked my number.”

                “Hahaha…” Ford laughs nervously. “Uh. Did you tell him you had a brother? A twin?”

                “I know you think you’re the center of the universe, but no, I don’t make a habit of talking about you to the guys I sleep with.”

                Bradford pulls a face, because yeah, he gets that. However Lee doesn’t make a habit of sleeping with guys he’s just met, so most of them hear about him during dinner conversations. At least… this has never happened before. Not this. Fuck. He needs to come clean.

                “So… I think I may have fucked this up for you.”

                “What?”

                “Uh. Well. Firstly, not on purpose or anything. I had no idea. Seresin approached me the morning we had breakfast with Mav and Ice…”

                “You mean that morning you went to the gym without me?”

                “Yeah. Because you got home at ass o’clock, out most of the night getting your dick sucked apparently!”

                Lee is glaring at him but Bradford just shrugs and makes a what are you going to do gesture, because he knows he has tone. Asshole. But he’s still his brother. He’ll make this right.

                “What did you say to him?”

                “Nothing. And I think that might actually be the issue. If he thought you were going to do your whole romance thing –”

                “I was!”

                “Yeah, of course you were. But I had no fucking clue who he was so I just… said something about flying with him –”

                “Oh my god, you didn’t…”

                “Well I didn’t know you’d slept with him!”

                “Shit.”

                “I’ll make this right. Trust me.”

                “Wait. What are you going to do?”

                “Tell him we’re twins obviously. It’s not rocket science Lee.”

                “Tell him? How?”

                “Are you serious right now? With words. I’ll talk to him.”

                “I can talk to him! Explain!”

                “No. You’ll either get angry over something stupid, or make him angry. Let me find out where he’s staying.”

                Lee hovers the whole time, but Ford’s in touch with most of the squadron and finds out where Seresin is staying, base accommodation because this clearly isn’t home for him. That’s okay, it’s close enough. He gathers up his jacket and keys, is pulling his shoes on when Lee suddenly realizes he’s going somewhere.

                “Where are you going?”

                “We went over this. I’m going to talk to him. I’ve got his number but he already blocked you so I don’t think that’ll work…”

                “He hasn’t blocked you though.”

                “Lee. He thinks I am you. He’s going to think you changed your number so you could call him after… not acknowledging that you slept together for four fucking months. Oh my god… I can’t believe I’m going to do this.”

                “I’m coming with you.”

                “Yeah. Fine. Whatever. But you’re staying in the car until I’ve talked to him.”

                “Why can’t we just both go to the door?”

                “Ambush him? Yeah. Cause that’s a great approach.”

                Lee is scrambling for his own shoes, pulling on one of their dad’s old Hawaiian shirts rather than a jacket and Ford just shakes his head. No accounting for taste.

…            …            …

                It’s after nine o’clock so the knock on his door is surprising. It’s obviously someone with security clearance, but he isn’t expecting anyone. Is already dressed for bed, so tempted to simply not answer, but then the knocking happens again and he huffs out a breath, moves to the door to open it and blinks in surprise.

                “Bradshaw. What… are you doing here?”

                “Hey. Seresin.”

                The guy looks a little spooked and Jake crosses his arms over his chest. They aren’t friends, aren’t anything, and he sure as hell isn’t a booty call, no matter how good the sex was. He’s effectively been ignored the last four months, and he’s not going to simply forget that.

                “I need to talk to you about something. You got a moment?”

                “No. It’s late,” Jake says, and he starts closing the door but Bradshaw sticks his foot out like the dickhead he is and Jake would kick him but he’s in bare feet.

                “Yeah. Sorry about that. But look, I really think you’re going to want to hear what I have to say,” Bradshaw starts, and Jake is still scowling and trying to push the door shut. Bradshaw is just as strong though, leaning his body against it almost calmly. Fucker. “I have a brother. A twin brother. Identical.”

                Jake pauses briefly, it’s a novel excuse but he’s certain that’s all it is, because why would he be here alone if he actually had a twin brother. He must look angry, because Bradshaw is leaning back, like he’s worried Jake might punch him.

                “Fuck off. Stop making excuses and just leave me the fuck alone.”

                “Oh. Okay. You don’t believe me. Wait… I can prove it. Let me show you some photos.”

                That makes Jake pause again and Bradshaw goes for his phone, quickly unlocking it and opening the album, and then he’s passing it to him.

                “That’s from tonight. We had to send a selfie to our parents.”

                Holy shit.

                “Holy shit…”

                They are identical. He zooms in, and there are some little differences but they could totally pass as each other if they were apart, or in uniform, or someone didn’t know there were two of them walking around. He looks up at the second Bradshaw in front of him and now that he knows he’s pretty sure he’s going to be able to tell them apart easily. If he gets to see Bradley again. Shit. He blocked him.

                “So, you’re not Bradley. What’s your name then?”

                “Bradford.”

                Jake can’t help but pull a face, getting a flashback to when Bradley had told him his name.

                “Your parents called you Bradley and Bradford Bradshaw?”

                “I know. We both know. Trust me.”

                “Where’s Bradley?”

                “Hopefully in the car where I left him…”

FOUR

[emry-stars-art]

For the Royal AU Twinyard backstory... Maybe Andrew, as a second son, was sent away for study? He could have become an apprentice to a knight or a scholar when he was young, maybe even with the Spears, and that's where Bad Shit Happened. And then he could have returned when he became of age, or when their last parent dies and Aaron needs a familiar (ha!) face around

*excited* okay okay this has been brought up a few times now and every time I read it the idea grows on me more, you’re all so smart for it

(I was gonna put the art at the end but this got a lot longer and sadder than I anticipated so. Sometimes Andrew likes to do stuff like this when they’re stuck talking to important boring dignitaries)

(It’s the main reason Aaron develops an incredible poker face)

tws this time are all canon compliant

Honestly yeah! I do think this is great because I want the twins’ father to be around after birth and for a while, because the whole point of Andrew being sent elsewhere is probably so they can give that extra attention to Aaron and raise him as the heir to the throne. So it’s a perfect balance, in my mind, of a family that cares enough to get Andrew an education/proper upbringing and a father that doesn’t care enough to spend time on a second son.

In my head the Spears would be almost always overbearing, partly because Andrew is the prince and they Do Not want to disappoint the royal family and partly because Andrew is the prince and they immediately assume this little five year old they get on their doorstep is going to be a spoiled brat. Even though he isn’t. And, as you may guess, the only thing they turn a blind eye to is Drake. Drake, their own son, probably the real spoiled brat that gets his way in all things, even with the young prince. Faces no consequences, even when Andrew tries to tell someone. It’s probably his governess or nanny at first (either way, it’s not really important what the role is, just that she’s there). And this woman has been Andrew’s biggest advocate since he arrived, she genuinely cares about and is worried for the little prince with his bruises and fear. She cares enough to bring this up to Duke Spear - maybe he really is dumb enough to just be unaware, she hopes - and confront him about Andrew’s treatment. But of course the duke doesn’t do anything to discipline his son. Instead, the governess is fired and a new woman takes her place, a woman that isn’t as outspoken and won’t ever question the authority of the Spear family. Andrew learns soon enough that trying to tell someone or speak out only makes things worse for himself. Sometimes he still wonders where that first governess is, if she’s doing well.

Meanwhile at the castle, Aaron is going through his own rigorous training. A lot of the same stuff as Andrew is learning, honestly, with a few added duties and lessons and a lot more official meetings he attends with King Minyard. It’s a pretty average upbringing for an heir, I think.

Then maybe when Aaron is around the age of ten or so, King Minyard passes. This wouldn’t normally be a political issue, since it’s expected of the Queen to take over and divide the king’s half of the duties as she sees fit until either she remarries or has an heir become old enough to take the throne, at which time she may pass it to the child or continue to reign until she either passes or is deemed unfit. And, politically, this is exactly what happens. What most don’t see is how grief stricken she becomes and then remains. She can’t pull herself from her grieving, and instead of passing duties to more fitting people, Queen Tilda simply lets young Prince Aaron take on as many duties as he can without breaking down. (Though he has, before. Likely a few times. A kid being pushed past his limit again and again.) Aaron grows up so much faster than he ever should have. He’s thirteen now and sometimes he shakes with stress.

Then the queen finally gives into her grief and passes as well. If it weren’t for Katelyn, Abigail, and Betsy, Aaron might have been next to lose his mind, leaving the throne empty. As things are, Aaron swallows everything down just long enough have word sent to the Spear family. He wants his brother back. A familiar face and his quiet, desperate hope: someone to just help.

And return him they do. Andrew’s been perfectly competent with all his studies, they say, they’d even managed to break that stubborn streak. (They didn’t like he wouldn’t speak or shake hands when instructed. They didn’t like being told no.) And yes, it’s a familiar face. Aaron sees the carriage door open, sees his twin for the first time in eight years, but he isn’t sure he recognizes Andrew. Andrew isn’t supposed to have bags under his eyes like this. Andrew didn’t hold his jaw so tightly. And Andrew certainly didn’t answer questions like some kind of unthinking, unfeeling shell.

The first thing Andrew says to Aaron getting off that carriage is “No.” It’s quiet, but he does say it. Aaron is confused - he’d thought they’d still be allowed to hug each other, or shake hands at least - but he does step back and instead ask if Andrew wants to see his room. He can see Andrew relax.

It might hurt Aaron a little when he watches the Spear boy get a hug with no protest, or how Andrew quietly addresses the duke with more than a one word sentence. But he’s not going to ask about it for a while. He’s the stranger to Andrew here, after all.

(I think Andrew does let him ask. The most he tells Aaron about it - maybe as much as a year later - is that the younger Spear had been much worse at listening than Aaron ever is. It is much better here. At least you and Nicky understand the meaning of ‘no’. Leave it at that. And after that Aaron is even more supportive of Andrew’s wide bubble than he was before. He enforces it himself when he has to. And growing up together for longer, with no looming secrets or much reason for animosity between them - it isn’t Aaron’s fault King Minyard decided to hand Andrew off and the twins are both mature enough even at that age to know it - means the twins are much closer than in canon. I don’t think it would be a typically ‘fond’ relationship, because they’ve both still been through it. But they support each other in all things, no questions asked, and always get through problems together.

It doesn’t take much longer than that first year for Aaron to earn the right to touch Andrew, even if he does need to give or show warning before he does. Andrew never says it, but he’s grateful that Aaron is generous with his shoulder pats. It feels a little like the validation he never got anywhere else. And Aaron never says it, but he’s grateful that Andrew is always at his side to tell people ‘no’ when Aaron is technically not allowed to.)

[natsuki208]

AOT The Final Season! Redefined - Post Battle Grief

This is a scene in my rewrite that takes place right after the scouts returned from Liberio, our main heroes are grieving over a recent lost, and one in particular isn’t coping very well.

~~~

The clouds are grey, the flowers droop and drips of rain patter down. This scenery alone describes all the scouts’ current moods combined.

But one young girl is experiencing it the worst out of them all. For proof, she hasn’t left the grave marker since it was set. Her knees are curled up to her chest with her head buried to hide her tears. She hasn’t felt this much sorrow in a long time, but who wouldn’t after seeing their soulmate die in front of them?

She doesn’t lift her head up for the sound of comfort from her black-haired friend standing by, not even for the sound of someone shouting from afar.

“What the hell are you doing here?!” It yells violently. “This graveyard is full of people your kind killed!”

It drags on for a while, accompanied by harsh kicking, until two others ran forward to end the commotion.

“Hey! Knock it off!” The taller man grabs ahold and as politely as he can, suggests that he can take it from here.

It seems to have worked for he did back away but leaves without apologising to the beaten man with wavy, blonde hair on the ground. The other man standing up, the one-armed with freckles, asks him in mild concern. “You okay, Niccolo?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. I get it a lot” He says so without looking at them in the eyes, as if he didn’t ask for them specifically to help him. He then makes a straight demand. “Where’s Sasha?”

The two men can only point in the direction of the grave. The young girl by that name continues to mourn in her current state. All together, they join behind her as the blonde man reads what the grave says to confirm his curiosity:

Rest in peace,

Our quirky, beloved bud,

Connie Springer

-

“So it’s true.” Niccolo utters with the littlest of sorrow. “I had a feeling she’d be upset about this.”

Everyone else: Mikasa, Jean, Marco and of course Sasha, are too full of grief to catch onto his tone.

“He was shot on the airship back home; killed by a girl who’s been trained.” Mikasa informs the blonde.

Just hearing that sentence makes Sasha want to cry even more.

“Sounds like a Marleyan warrior in training to me.” He responds, again, quietly lacking remorse. The main focus to him was seeing the usually cheerful woman of his dreams being too gloomy for her own good. He now faintly says her name. “Sasha?”

Jean, the taller man, tries to hold Niccolo back with his own saddened tone. “She hasn’t said a word since it happened.”

But that doesn’t stop him from kneeling down at her side, attempting to look at her in the eyes and puts on a easy brave face. Still wasn’t enough to make her move an inch fortunately.

“Hey, I know it seems hard, and I’ve seen that you two were close, but the scouts loose close ones every day on the field as I have heard-”

“Niccolo, this is not the time.” Jean’s tone gets more aggressive.

“I just want to let you know…” He continues as if he didn’t hear. “That if you need anything, I’ll be right where I always am for you. Maybe even with roasted beef with your name on it.”

It didn’t work. For once, the mention of food isn’t what she needs right now. She wants to yell but has to stay polite, since they’re at a funeral, her closest friend’s funeral, she must not disgrace his memory. But what she can do is say aloud her current feelings for Niccolo to get the full picture.

“That kid…” she speaks. She finally speaks again. This catches the attention of everyone present.

“I saw her clear… she was actually aiming for me. I was too stunned to move… *sniff* and that was when Connie pushed me out of the way.”

Sasha’s voice crackles, holding back more tears and wiping away the ones that came through. Flashes of the event flow back and it’s enough to make her sick.

“… *sniff* That idiot. He should’ve known better to get us both out of there than just me. Now what will his mom think if she’s ever brought back?… *hic* How can I handle this with him gone?”

The others (except Niccolo) tilt their heads down in guilt. They all feel her pain exactly. All of them could’ve done something to prevent the loss, but they didn’t. Connie acted and payed a heavy price.

But what really hits them is the same thing with Niccolo; seeing their friend hit her breaking point and not having anything but grief on her mind.

It’s like the best part of her is dead and buried along with Connie.

[gurt-the-great]

During Rosie's intro post, I mentioned that every Sonic character has been aged up by 10 years! Well I went ahead and designed five of them.

Most of these characters have a connection to Rosie, Shadow and Tails having the strongest bonds to her. This will officially be the 10 years later AU, or just Gurt's Sonic AU since it adds and focuses on my ocs.

The individual refs and more info for everyone will be under the cut

Sonic was a little tricky to figure out in this AU. He's not the type of character to settle down and he wouldn't have a typical job since he's not one for authority figures. Also he's 25 now, he's got to grow up at least a little bit, especially now that the down-time between Eggman's schemes have gotten longer. He needs SOMETHING to occupy the time.

Then I thought "what if he was a professional air-boarder?" Sonic Riders was the COOLEST Sonic racing game and Sonic being an extreme sports Tony Hawk-esque guy made sense to me.

The design was easy to figure out once I decided on his profession. I brought his riders sunglasses back, the SOAP shoes from Adventure 2 and gave him a cool racing jacket with new gloves.

Sonic doesn't have a strong bond with Rosie but he does know her since Tails was friends with her growing up.

Tails was easy to age up, all I did was give him a ponytail, some accessories, new shoes, and some brown fur on his limbs and ears.

Tails is an Engineer in the AU! He already makes gadgets and trinkets, why not make a career out of it? He actually made Rosie's boots!

Tails and Rosie have a very close bond, the two had accelerated courses in school together due to their high intelligence. They visit each other frequently and Tails feels like a part of her family.

Rouge was pretty fun to design for this AU! I took elements from the elite agent outfit in Sonic Forces speed battle, Rouge's outfit in Heroes, and her regular look as well. I gave her bangs too but I like to think she messes with her hair often.

I don't have many notes on Rouge, She's still a G.U.N. Agent but also she's married to Knuckles! This is the only ship I'm canonizing in my AU for now. I might add more ships later on, we'll have to see.

Rouge works with Rosie pretty frequently and tries to get her to come out of her shell. She thinks that Rosie is pretty and could use that well, but Rosie is hopeless when it comes to using charisma. Rouge still likes her though and tries to teach her.

I did not NEED to design Cream but I really wanted to! She ended up being my favorite design here. I didn't really have a major direction to go in for Cream's design since she's still a teen without any job. I took inspiration from different Cream designs I seen online and just merged some concepts I liked. The only big change is making her tall, I thought it'd be cute if I based her on a Flemish Giant rabbit! I wanted an excuse to make her taller than Tails for comedic purposes.

Cream is still the polite sweetie she was as a kid but now she does work with Chao! She volunteers and donates to local Chao gardens and trains Cheese and Chocola for races. Cheese evolved into a hero Chao! Being with Cream throughout the years and going on some adventures helped him evolve. Chocola is neutral fly type Chao! It's one of my favorite Chao evolutions and I wanted Chocola to be more different from Cheese.

Cream and Rosie don't have much of a connection but I'd say they get along well enough. They're both friends with Tails so I'd say they all hang out sometimes.

And finally we reach Shadow! Shadow was easy to design as well. I just gave him a cool jacket. I don't think Shadow would visibly age much since he's the ultimate life form.

He's still a G.U.N. Agent and an incredibly important person to Rosie. Rosie idolized him as a kid and wanted to be like him. Shadow took on a mentorship role to Rosie, seeing great potential in her. He would personally teach Rosie the various ways that chaos control is used and would also teach her chaos spear. He does care about her even if he's tough on her at times.

If you read all that, thank you! I've put a lot of time and thought into this AU and I'm excited to share more! If you have any questions about my AU or ocs, my askbox is open! I hope y'all enjoyed the post!

[mallowsweetmiri]

I don’t know if you want to write this or just say what you think Molly and Author Weasley’s reactions would be. I’m fine with either one 😂 sorry in advance this is long af

But this popped into my mind and I’ve been thinking about it. Fred Weasley x a muggle reader. Not just a muggle reader but an American reader from the south, I bit of a country girl, polite, shy at first, and well mannered but also can be stubborn, mischievous, outdoorsy, and rough and tumble. Maybe she went over there for a collage exchange program, met Fred by chance and quickly finished her degree and got a job over there. Anyway they’ve been dating for about a year now and he wants to introduce her to the family but she’s nervous and doesn’t want it to be a big deal so they pick a night for her to just go with him to his parents house for dinner. When they come up with this plan Fred says “you know I have so many siblings, unless someone says something they may not even notice you. Especially with your dyed red hair.” It’s the beginning of fall so she just had seasonally dyed her hair Rich copper red with platinum blonde money pieces framing her face. So with Fred making that comment it turns into a bet between them on whether or not they’ve have to say something for her to be noticed. Fred’s muggle s/o cooks and brings some side dishes and desserts (enough for everyone) that’s she’s made knowing she’d be unexpected and didn’t want Molly to feel pressured into preparing extra food last minute. Plus she got some small gifts for everyone, Fred’s siblings and parents. Fred drove the Flying Ford Anglia to her place they loaded everything up and get to the house and go in discreetly. Fred quietly introduces her to his siblings one by one (George already knows her ofc) and tells them to keep quiet until he introduces her to the parents. As Fred and Ginny are talking Molly needs help in the kitchen so Fred’s s/o just goes in there and nonchalantly asks what she needs and offers to take the plate of rolls to the table so Molly had more kitchen space. Molly is distracted so she doesn’t think anything of it until s/o is walking away so Molly looks not recognizing the voice but sees the red hair and shrugs before the soup threatens to boil over ending that questioning train of thought.

A little while later Arthur gets home and goes into the kitchen to greet Molly and see if she needs anything when s/o comes back because her and Fred couldn’t find space on the table for the fruit salad and chocolate cake she brought. Fred stops in the doorway smirking and s/o stifling a giggle walks up behind Molly and Arthur and waits for a break in the conversation before she speaks up “Excuse me, but Fred brought his girlfriend home and she looks kinda sketchy. I heard she’s not only a muggle but an American muggle at that! Plus she’s been causing all sorts of trouble since she got here. First she’s brings food and now there’s no space on the table for anything then she clutters up the sofa with gifts. I think y’all might just have to throw her out, it’s your call though.” Fred’s s/o says but as she’s talking her smile turns nervous and she crosses her arms, hunching slightly, now feeling sheepish-

Okay miss writer!! Lmao I love this, I think that the Weasleys really wouldn’t care if one of their kids was dating a muggle, and being American wouldn’t phase them either! If anything, Arthur would be hammering her with questions. Molly would maybe be suspicious of an American girl, but in this scenario I bet she would feel bad for not immediately greeting her and wouldn’t think twice about welcoming her into the home!

[eternalfics]

Hello! How are you? I wanted to make a request if it dosent bothers you,about headcanons of genya,sanemi and yorichi with a s/o that has a personality like maxi from the novel under the oak tree,like,reader is a person with a speech disability, which has manifested in early childhood,reader stutters and has a difficult time communicating,due this has a very shy personality, partially due to the fact that has been abused by their father since childhood. Reader believes themself to be inferior to others, especially to beautyfull and smart people. Reader is left with the trauma that their father gave them and they flinches every time anyone raises their voice.

Reader was reinforced with the idea that was worthless and useless all their life, and has therefore carried this notion within even into adulthood and deeply resents for not being able to be as strong as wants to be, as thinks that nobody will ever want them and would they understand why.Reader is easily scared and rattled, is often anxious on how she will act and how others will perceive them, as is worried that people will see them as nothing but a lazy and useless stutterer. Reader is a very private person who rarely tells anyone about their past, and sees themselves and their abuse as shameful and they despises the thought of people seeing them as even more pitiful and weak.

reader also gets flustered easily, even discussing intimate moments with their partner when they are alone can cause them to blush uncontrollably.When someone manages to get their trust reader is a timid and kind person, is soft-spoken and polite to everyone who is kind to them and treat their partner with kindness and respect.

Im really sorry for writting a whole bible 😭 😭 😭

with a shy, abused reader !!

(gn! reader, reader is sanemi’s tsugoku in genya and sanemis)

warning: mentions of food, raising voice, fighting, weird pet names?

a/n: KYAAAABEUSBDI!! thank you for the request! I’ll do my best to serve your creative ideas 🫡 btw I’m good and if this took long sorry 😰 this is in second person!

characters: genya, sanemi

summary: how will they create a relationship? slowly? quickly? lets see :)

GENYA

He kinda learned the tough way when he learned you were were sensitive. 😨

Genya just gets it. You remind him of his siblings when he first got to know you, he likes it when you make effort to accompany him 🙃

But at the same time, he feels angry how could someone do this to a beautiful face like yours?

No one will hurt you again, and Genya will make sure he’ll be with you every step of the way of your life. (yandere? 😰)

Genya’s overprotective of you, he’s scared something or someone will hurt you. Even a small hello with Tanjiro, what if you slip? He can’t have that :(

Genya started slowly with affection such as love notes, holding hands (kinda) and headpats ohh how he loves headpats 🤭

He believes that you need ✨princess treatment✨ and those will be headpats and compliment

Headpats are a must for everything, they’re like his way of saying “Well done! I love you 🫶” so he pats you everytime you do anything right or cute

COMPLIMENTS MY GOSHH

He won’t hesitate to give anyone a big, fat slap on the face if they hurt his darling 😡

He did raise his voice at you one time for getting to curious, and asking about his childhood. This left you insecure and Genya actually comforted you and didn’t leave you to sulk in the corner like others did 🥺

One time he actually spoke his mind and asked you how many kids you want. 💀Which ended up in him having a tomato coloured s/o 🤕

“Maybe, they’ll have your hair colour :)”

Sanemi

Two words, Not. Good.

At first, he thought you were just a shy weirdo who didn’t know how to socialise 🤨

But then he got to know you slowly! Kinda like Genya but worse. 😀 Anyway, your first training session together was straightforward but awkward.

Your second was better, he soon understood your body language better than you. One time, he looked at your face just one time maybe he’ll get to see that face around more.. I MEAN!-

He thinks your as comforting as his mother, and underneath all that insecurity and fake happiness is a whole lot of fun like his siblings 😋 Not like he’ll ever tell you that.

Sanemi actually can cook really well! He just asks you to teach him, as he finds this as an act of intimacy. When you see his food is surprisingly good, you give him a questioning look and he shrugs it off and says “Your a good teacher” and he offers you some food. 🥙

The way you communicate to him is head tilting, looks, shrugs and all of that other stuff after finding out that he understands you. ❤️ So when you quietly stutter out to him that you love his scars, it means a lot to him and he quietly responds with a “Love you too, Dummy”

When you open up to him about your childhood, or how they beated you, he just nods and asks if you want to train.

he DOES NOT tolerate ANY disrespect, or any playful scaring. If he ends up with a tear - stained cheek s/o you bet there’s gonna be a white-haired person barking outside your window 😶

“If anyone disrespects you, you come straight to me or you kick them in the balls. Got it?”

Overall, they both love you ❤️ (Sorryy there’s no Yorichii!