#his grandfather thinks will and the younger one are like gods

[yourcutelittlegayfriend]

Imagine: Taking the Pennyworth name instead

(just short for now I'll work with this after I finished my deadline)

I'm thinking of a small AU for this but I always thought what could happened if Reader was an Isekai or regressed in a Neglected batfam fic?

Reader knowing what happens to the story or her future life with these people and they just straight up planned something to stay far away from the family without causing them to become yandere or obsessed with them.

If reader think it through and most possible solution is to stay at the mansion and be discreet as possible.

And the most I could think of is just get adopted by Alfred instead, bcs why not? You get to stay at the mansion, you won't have the Wayne name on you for reasons that maybe you resent the thought of being called a Wayne.

And even if for a short while you can feel like you belong, not as a child of a rich asshole who becomes a vigilante that runs around 'his' city to do his nightly fight with criminals that just keep multiplying because god only knows he has more patience and time for them that his neglected child who rots in an old house that makes the child feel it's their own Arkham Asylum.

Not to be related to a bunch of bitchy brothers and sisters who thinks they're far more important or involved in the family and never thought that just because they 'died' multiple times your trauma weights lesser than them, just because yours is far more tame doesn't mean you don't get to deserve a little love too.

(This is just me putting myself in the reader's shoes because that's really what I do to most of the x reader fics I make)

Imagine reader just straight up ask Alfred is they could be his child or grandchild instead.

"Adopt me". Alfred stop himself from tipping the teapot when he heard a small tiny voice below him.

The butler looks down and sees the old yet younger addition to the family stare at him from below holding an- wait a minute is that a real adoption papers??

--- Tune in next time to when will I finished this fic before another sh8y day intercept this again---

ALFRED PENNYWORTH SUPREMACY RISE UUPPPPPPP!!!!!!

(some of you might wonder why I'm fixating on Alfred being reader's grandfather/father, it's very simple I just miss my grandfather and Papa so now u know, I'm pretty sure no one wondered but here you go anyway hahahaha)

[my-body-likes-you-in-control]

Dormant Power

I was always quite clear in my Grindr profile—never shy about my age. Yeah, 57 was a bit older to be on here, but I kept myself in nice shape these days. Look at these abs. Not bad for a man pushing sixty.

It wasn’t always like this. Back when I was younger, I was out of shape, awkward, and kind of a loser. That was even with my power.

You see, I was 18 when I first realized I could swap bodies with people if we had sex without a condom. It wasn’t automatic; I had to choose to do it. If I focused just right on their body and let my energy flow, I could transfer myself into their head and push them back out into mine.

Over the years, I’d swapped with a few boyfriends—just for fun, just to see what it was like as them. I never asked first, and would always just explain myself afterward. I don't think any of them would have been super eager to try. In the end, we always switched back. None of them ever wanted to stay in my body, and honestly? I couldn’t blame them.

Then came John.

I’ll never forget that day. I was 22, freshly dumped, sulking on the rooftop bar of some grimy gay bar, drowning my sorrows in overpriced vodka. That’s when he walked up—tall, broad-shouldered, with the kind of confident swagger that only comes with being 37 and knowing exactly who you are.

"Rough day?" he’d asked, sliding into the seat beside me.

I sniffled into my drink. "You could say that."

He chuckled, clapping a heavy hand on my shoulder. "Kid, trust me—this ain’t the end. You’ve got your whole life ahead of you."

I remember staring at him, at the way his shirt clung to his chest, at the stubble along his jaw. "I just wish I could fast-forward to the part where I look like you," I muttered.

He laughed, shaking his head. "Hell, I’d switch with you in a heartbeat. Be young again? Sign me up."

That’s when I told him about my power.

He scoffed at first, of course. Who wouldn’t? But then he shrugged, that same easy grin on his face. "Sure, why not, kid? I’d love to do my 20s over again."

We slipped into the club bathroom, locked the stall, and—well.

We never switched back.

Twenty years later, and I still don’t think it was a bad deal. John’s body was hot back then, and now? It’s mine, still strong, still fucking sexy if I do say so myself. But it still seemed that John fared better. In my old body, he got into fantastic shape, met the love of his life, and settled down. Last I checked, he didn’t look a day over 35, even though technically he’s in a 42-year-old body now. Honestly, I’m happy for him, but it kind of sucks to see what could’ve been for me.

Meanwhile, I’m still on Grindr.

I’d gotten used to the rhythm of it—the flirty openers, the half-hearted conversations, the way so many guys lost interest the second they remembered they were talking to a man pushing sixty. Sure, I still had my abs, my confidence, my charm, but let’s be real: most of the younger ones just wanted the idea of a daddy. A fantasy. Something to get off to, but not actually someone to ever meet up with.

Not that it bothered me much. I’d had my fun with men closer to my age—guys who knew what they wanted, who weren’t afraid of a silver fox in their bed. But still.

And that brings me to tonight, to Charlie.

God, Charlie.

His profile is everything I’d ever wished I could be at his age. Toned but not overly muscular, sun-kissed skin, a smile that could melt steel.

And somehow, against all odds, he was into me. The only problem. He was 24.

I’d never pulled someone that young before—not in this body, anyway. I was old enough to be his father. Hell, his grandfather, if we were being generous.

But then his message popped up, and my doubts evaporated.

Charlie: "You’re way more interesting than anyone else on here. Drinks this weekend?"

I stared at the screen, my thumb hovering over the keyboard. Was this a bad idea? Probably. Did I care? Not even a little.

Me: "Only if you promise not to bail when you realize how old I actually am in person."

Charlie: "Pfft. I’ve got a thing for guys who know what they’re doing."

I smirked. Cheeky little shit.

Me: "Dangerous thing to say to me."

Charlie: "Good, I meant it."

Well.

How could I say no to that?

---

Charlie picked a bar just a few blocks from my place—a dimly lit spot with leather booths and cocktails strong enough to make you forget your own name. Smart kid. Close enough that if things went well, neither of us would have far to go.

He was already there when I walked in, lounging at the bar with a whiskey neat in front of him. Fitted black t-shirt clinging to his shoulders, dark hair slightly tousled like he’d just run a hand through it. Then he turned, saw me, and his smile hit like a punch to the gut.

Damn.

"You’re even hotter in real life," he said, sliding off the stool.

I laughed. "Laying it on thick already."

"Only if it’s working." Sharp grin.

And fuck, it was.

The age difference should’ve been obvious—me with my salt-and-pepper stubble, him with that effortless youth. But Charlie had this way about him, this easy confidence that made the years between us feel irrelevant. He asked about my career, my travels, the things I’d learned—not in that fake, polite way people humour an old man, but like he actually wanted to know.

And the flirting? Relentless.

A brush of fingers when he handed me a drink. A slow bite of his lip when I mentioned the gym. Leaning in too close when he laughed, thigh pressing against mine under the table. Then, finally, his hand sliding up my thigh as I talked about my dating life.

By the third round, I was done pretending.

"My place is five minutes away," I said, voice rough.

Charlie didn’t hesitate. "Lead the way."

The walk back was a blur—his fingers hooking into my belt loop, the hitch in his breath when I crowded him against my front door, fumbling with the keys.

"You sure about this?" I had to ask. Even with all those cheeky smiles and hungry eyes, he was still twenty-four.

Charlie answered by grabbing my collar and dragging me into a kiss that tasted like whiskey and bad decisions.

"Of course, sir," he murmured against my mouth.

---

Damn, he felt good.

I moved with slow, deep strokes, savouring every inch of him. Charlie’s eyes were closed, his expression peaceful, but his hands wandered over my biceps, his touch light and teasing. I flexed for him, smirking to myself, then guided his palms to my chest. His fingers traced my pecs before circling my nipples, sending a jolt of pleasure through me. My hips stuttered in response, my rhythm faltering for just a second before I steadied myself.

Then his hands drifted lower, skimming the sharp V of my waist before settling at the base of my cock—right where the condom clung.

His voice was a breathless whine. “Take it off.”

I froze. “What?”

“I want to feel you.” His pupils were blown black, his chest heaving. “Please. I’m clean, I’m on Prep—fuck, just give it to me raw, sir.”

That last word sent a shiver down my spine.

I hadn’t done this in years. Not without protection. I should’ve been on Prep myself, but I just never got around to it. But Charlie—god, Charlie—was already a wreck beneath me, his legs locked around my waist, his rock hard uncut cock at attention against his stomach.

“You sure?” I growled, gently, but firmly stroking his lubed up cock.

His answer? A sharp gasp as he ripped the condom off himself.

I hesitated before slowly sliding myself back in.

“Fuck—”

Then I was inside him again, bare this time, and—Christ. The heat. The tight, velvety clutch of him. I’d forgotten how good it felt. How primal.

“That’s it,” Charlie moaned, head thrown back. “Fuck me just like that, sir.”

I lost myself in the rhythm, in the way his body moved under mine, in the filthy, desperate sounds spilling from his lips. He was perfect. Young. Gorgeous.

And then, a thought...

I could take this.

I could.

The condom was off. The power hummed under my skin, electric, waiting. All I had to do was want it.

Charlie’s hips stuttered. “I’m close—I’m so close—”

Then, trembling: “Take me, daddy. Take me.”

There it was. The universe had given me a sign.

I felt the shift before I even realized I’d made the choice—my consciousness unravelling, slipping—

And then—

I was looking up at my own body.

My old face twisted in pleasure above me, thrusts turning erratic as my new body clenched around him. The orgasm hit like a freight train, white-hot, all-consuming. Charlie’s—no, mine—back arched off the bed as I came all over my new chest.

“Fuuuuck,” my old voice groaned, hips jerking as he spilled inside me.

And just like that—

It was done.

I was him. I was 24 again.

[corsairspade]

you are a god's best friend. the world is young still, and you are yet younger. he rides with you and hunts with you, and teaches you how to speak to birds and beasts. you are a god's student. you ride in his train and care for a hound that he gifted to you. gods have taught others before. gods have been kindly to others before. your god is your best friend. he gifts you something of his self, a hound of his own hunt.

you are your father's son. your grandfather is dead. no one has ever called you wise, and you are, above all else, your father's son. he swears a terrible oath. you swear a terrible oath. you don't know if you really mean it, but your mother named you well- you are hasty to rise, hasty to run into things. the hunt teaches you patience but you cannot outrun yourself. you are your father's son.

you are a god's best friend and you have sworn a terrible oath, but it is an oath that you hope that your friend can understand. to hunt the murderer of your grandfather, is something that the god of the hunt can understand.

you are your father's son. the blood of elves on your hands does not feel different than the blood of a deer, except in the tight feeling of your throat. except in the thunderous beating of your heart. you tell your brother, who is trying not to throw up, that you need to think of them like deer. he looks at you like he's never seen you before. you are forever doomed.

you are a god's best friend. he does not say goodbye, but your dog comes with you. surely you can fix this, then, surely you are still a god's friend.

you are your father's son. he dies. he dies but before he does, he tells you to burn the boats. you do. you are your father's son. your father dies and, he tells you to swear that oath once more. it is a terrible oath. you have sworn it once. you swore to your best friend once. surely it will not tip the scales to swear once more, if in your mind, you dedicate this hunt to him.

you were a god's best friend, and it is not enough. you are your father's son, and you speak your father's oath. it proceeds to eat you alive.

[cliosunshine]

𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐌𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬

jason todd x gn!reader; alfred pennyworth

warnings: none

word count: 1.9k

author's note: I kinda hate this ngl, it's like I've lost all my (albeit very poor) preexistent writing abilities; enjoy!

"Alfred, could you please pass me the cocoa powder?"

The butler hummed, handing you the box as he looked over the batter you were mixing up, "Of course, Miss Y/N."

"Thanks."

The manor was eerily silent, except for the quiet exchanges between you and Alfred. Bruce was busy at some event overseas that required his presence as playboy billionaire, while Dick and Tim were both working. Damian, Steph and Cass were in school/uni and Jason was on a week-long mission with the Outlaws. Oh, and today was your day off.

"Miss Y/N, I think you should need to add the flour first."

Forgotten, half-empty teacups were placed on each opposite end of the kitchen island. You peered down at a safe distance at Alfred's old recipe notebook, worried about staining the pristine pages with your cocoa powder-stained fingers. Instead, you squinted your eyes to read the instructions better.

"Ah, yes, you're right. Thanks Albert."

"No worries."

You tried yout best not to mess up the measurements as you lightly swayed to the jazzy melodies playing from the living room's phonograph. You learned from your first visit at the manor that it had belonged to Bruce's grandfather and the records Alfred often played eased Jason's mind. You smiled at the thought of your boyfriend.

"Alfred, do you think Jay will like these?"

The butler, now seated, finished his sip of tea before speaking.

"I sure do, Miss Y/N," He reassured you, "Brownies were Master Jason's favourite dessert when he was younger, and he seemed to favour Mrs. Wayne's recipe very dearly."

You attached the handle of the stand mixer as you turned to smile at Alfred, forgetting to put the setting on low as a cloud of flour engulfed you.

You coughed up flour as you blindly reached for the power lever.

"Oh no, wait- How do I stop this?!"

You could've easily passed as Caspar's cousin by the way the flour managed to find its way in your hair, on your face and all over your apron. Lucky for you, Alfred managed to shut the machine off as he directed an amused smile your way.

"I reckon that it is time for me to step in, Miss Y/N."

You huffed as you dusted yourself off, a downturned smile betraying your disappointed expression, "It's supposed to be your day off, Alfred! I just wanted to make something nice for you and the others once they returned to the manor..."

The butler cleaned the counter from and removed the handle attached to the stand mixer, taking a silicone spatula out of one of the drawers.

"Mixing the batter by hand will help," He commented as he began delicately incorporating the dry ingredients to the butter, chocolate and sugar concoction you were at least able to make.

It was your time to sit down with your cup of tea now. You admired the dexterity of the older man: every little movement was calculated, not a single step misplaced.

You had been coming to the manor for over two years now, and whilst the others were excited to welcome Littlewing's s/o to the family (Dick's words not yours), the one person you were the most nervous about meeting and desperately wanted to be liked by, was Alfred.

You had heard countless stories of the man from Jason, and it didn't take you very long to figure out he must've been and still was a very important role and a save haven for him.

You also had the privilege of trying some of Alfred's baking that Jason managed to sneak from the manor and well, it made you nostalgic for a childhood in where you'd probably never eaten white chocolate and macadamia nut cookies but god could you feel it in your soul.

And as far as you were concerned, anyone who could manage to speak to your soul with their cooking/baking deserved all your respect.

"Miss Y/N, could you hand me the chocolate bar?"

"Of course," you stood up and walked over to him, watching intently as he chopped the dark chocolate with fine precision, "Is that the same brand Mrs. Wayne used?"

"It is, yes. It must've been over half a century now, when she first showed me how to execute the recipe without any difficulties," he reminisced as the kept working the knife against the cutting board.

You could only nod as you kept your gaze on the wrapping by the bowl.

"You know, Miss Y/N," began Alfred, "you remind me an awful lot of her."

You froze mid-sway, devoid of words as you continued to look at the wrapping.

"What?"

Alfred's gaze met yours, and something hidden behind his blue eyes - affection, sadness - made you take a deep breath.

"How so?" You pried, now very curious at his statement.

He looked to his right, where there, on the wall by the kitchen's fireplace, a picture of Thomas and Martha Wayne was hung.

"The first time Jason brought you here," he began, "you carried yourself with the same modesty yet determination and strong will power. it had been a while since someone reminded me of her so strongly - master Bruce felt it, too, that day."

His eyes shined with unshed tears as he continued.

You looked at the frame on the wall.

"Nobody really knew that master Jason had a partner, not even master Timothy had been aware of the fact, so bringing you here after months of master Dick's pleading was bound to be a memorable event."

"Yeah," you chuckled, "it took Dick breaking into Jason's apartment in the middle of the night while I was staying over, for him to finally give in,"

The corners of Alfred's eyes crinkled.

"You're good for him, miss Y/N. Your calm presence grounds him immensely."

You felt you face heat up at the compliment. Clearing your throat, you nodded once bashfully.

"Did you preheat the oven?"

"I sure did. 180°C, right?"

"Correct."

Alfred handed you the pan and you slid it in the oven.

Now all you had to do was wait.

You checked the grandfather clock by the hallway. It was 5.30 p.m.

"Well," you clapped once, "time to clean up."

The butler dismissed you with his hand.

"It is alright, Miss Y/N," he stated, starting to put the sugar away, "I will take care of it."

You kept quiet and as his back was turned, you grabbed as many ingredients as you could muster and made your way to the pantry.

"Nonsense," you exclaimed as you returned and dusted off the scale, "I presented the idea in the first place, so it is my duty to clean everything up."

Alfred closed him eyes in mock frustration, making you chuckle.

"Are you planning to stay for dinner?"

"Oh no, don't worry about that, I'll be home in a jiffy. I don't want to intrude, especially on your day off from everybody, in fact I should go right now-"

"How long has he been away, Miss Y/N?"

Body stilling, you turned halway as your hands stopped untying the knot at the back of your apron.

"Uhm-...6 days,"

"Then I cannot allow you to spend another evening by yourself."

"No, Alfred, really, it's ok-"

"You should stay, sweetheart."

You whipped your head at the voice by the kitchen door, the movement nearly giving you whiplash.

Jason was leaning against the doorframe, both his arms and his legs crossed. His face held an expression you couldn't quite pin point - his eyes seemed to have been gazing longingly at you and Albert, as if remembering something.

"Jaybee!"

In a hurry of both excitement and stupor, you flung yourself at him, making him react quickly in order to catch you.

You pressed you face in the crook of his neck, breathing deeply. He smelled of soap and leather. He must've taken a shower before coming to the manor, as his civilian clothes also hinted.

Jason reciprocated the hug and lifted you up for a few seconds, nuzzling his nose in your hair. You felt him let a breath of relief as his shoulders sagged, finally relaxing after almost a week.

"You came early," you smiled.

"Mission went smoothly for once," he shrugged, clearly trying to hide his own happiness.

Your feet found the ground and you pecked him on the lips once, aware of Alfred's presence in the room.

The older man had a relaxed expression on his face.

"Welcome home, master Jason," he greeted him, "It's good to hear everything went well,"

Basking in the quiet and easy atmosphere created in the kitchen, Jason let a genuine smile leave his lips, one of those that reached his half-closed eyes and made his nose slighly wrinkle. You loved seeing him that at ease with someone other than yourself.

Pulling away from him, you went to check the brownies baking in the oven.

"What were you guys making?" Asked Jason, curious about the apron on you and Alfred and having half an idea thanks to the smell of chocolate engulfing the space.

"Miss Y/N was very enthusiastic on making you and others brownies." Explained Alfred, "Martha Wayne's recipe, to be precise."

Jason's eyes lit up at that. He let out a groan as he approached the oven, where you were squatting to get a better view of the pan.

"God, I love you"

You looked up as heat spread all over your face. Alfred cleared his throat and made him way out of the kitchen, giving the both of you a last, knowing smile.

You got up and followed his retreating figure with your eyes.

"You've been here all day?"

"Mh...since uh, 10 in the morning." You said softly, keeping your gaze on you boyfriend and checking for any visible injuries on his face. Not having found any, you sighed in relief.

"Alfred invited me. We made lunch together, and we also made blueberry cupcakes for Damian's class"

Jason leaned down and kissed your forehead in appreciation. He loved when his two favourite people spent time together.

He had to admit he was may more nervous than you at the thought of introducing you to Alfred, more than he was about Bruce, but after he saw the proud look the older man sent his way at the end of the first dinner you spent in the manor, he knew he had made the right choice.

The right choice in bringing you to the manor, the right choice in committing to you, the right choice in letting you see him, flaws and all.

"Stay with us for dinner, doll"

"Wait, what happened to big, scary Jason Todd who can't bear to stand anywhere near his siblings?"

Jason grinned misceviously.

"Nothing at all, princess. In fact, nobody could make it for dinner today,"

"What about Damian and Steph-" you couldn't finish the question that Jason shushed you, chuckling as you shot him a glare, knowing very well you hated to be interrupetd.

"Don't worry about it, Y/N. Now, why don't you get get cozied up by the fireplace and let me arrange a charcuterie for the three of us?"

"Ohh, fancy"

"-wait, where did you get the French wine?"

Now, brownies on the cooling rack, Bruce's French cheese and wine on the coffeetable by the main fireplace, you, Jason and Alfred had settled into a comfortable silence, the only source of sound coming from the phonograph by the patio doors. Jason visibly relaxed even further from its soothing melodies, Etta James' voice carrying throught the room and making him melt in the expensive leather couch, shoulders bumping with yours and head almost resting on top of yours.

Alfred looked at the two of you from his place in the armchair and couldn't help but feel his heart burst with love and happiness at seeing his boy, Jason, relaxed and completely at ease for the first time in a very, very long time.

[kingkaisen]

REGRETS — PART I

♡ — 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: fem! reader, violence, angst, & dark content.

♡ — 𝐰𝐜: 3.9k

♡ — 𝐚/𝐧: sorry for the enormous delay, but I finally got around to your request! I had so much fun writing this, that I went overboard with the word count and had to divide it into a 3 part series! dividers by @jabamin! Ty for letting me use them bby 🖤

♡ — FIND PART II HERE . . .

No one had ever bothered to ask Captain Levi about his ring holder.

The silver necklace that dangled around his neck was home to a plain ring, a rather unextraordinary piece of jewelry that he would fidget with while scanning his dark eyes over mountains of paperwork.

Everyone knew better than to ask.

When most mild-mannered people introduced themselves to Humanity’s Strongest Soldier, stating their name and giving him some form of rehearsed, slightly nervous praise for his work as a captain, their eyes would often dart down to the ring necklace.

They’d always — always — quickly glance away.

In most places, such as Shiganshina, using a necklace as a ring holder meant one thing.

Widowhood.

When Armin Arlert was younger, he had witnessed his grieving grandfather sitting at their tiny, wooden dining table, sliding his wedding ring onto an old piece of string.

Tears spilled from his eyes and splattered onto his trembling hands as he did so, three weeks after his beloved wife died of an illness that even the great Dr. Yeager couldn’t fix.

In the suffocatingly small wooden bedroom of the Arlert family’s shack of a home, the air thick with illness, the brown-haired genius had pushed his glasses up — frowning at the sick, helpless woman — before releasing a shaky breath. Holding the hand of a dying Mrs. Arlert, he looked the grandfather of his son’s best friend in the eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Dr. Yeager said.

That was all it took.

The sight of an old man sobbing into his hands — hands that were rough and scarred from decades of chopping wood and building houses — was enough to make Grisha question how any god could allow such cruelty.

Little Armin, who was old enough to recognize tears and sadness, but young enough for adults to still cook up lies to protect him from the peculiar knowledge of a thing called death, couldn’t piece together why his grandmother wouldn’t wake up.

At this rate, she was going to miss dinner.

Ever since that miserable day, Grandpa Arlert’s face was as blank as a blind man until he died as well.

It was the same expression that Armin noticed upon Captain Levi’s face when they first met. When he saw the ring necklace around his neck, he knew.

Unfortunately, not everyone was up-to-date on the cultural aspects of widowhood.

Eren Yeager, for example, wanted to get on his captain’s good side. After all, the dark-haired soldier was insanely strong and undeniably awesome to the teenage boy, and, well, could end his life whenever he pleased.

“I like your necklace, Captain.” Eren commented, glancing down at it with his piercing eyes, scratching the back of his head as he grinned slightly. “I didn’t think you were the type of person to wear jewelry.”

And with that, Eren was stuck cleaning every inch of the Scouts headquarters for an entire week.

The young titan shifter grunted as he took his seat next to Armin in the mess hall, joining his friends for an unappealing supper of soup and bread.

Normally, Eren would gobble down the plain meal. Some days, he had to rely heavily on his imagination, pretending that his mother had spent hours hovering over a wood-burning stove, cutting up carrots and peeling potatoes before dumping them into the boiling pot of her famous stew.

If he could manage to pretend that he was eating his mother’s stew, despite how his heart snapped into pieces every time he thought of his deceased mom, he could manage to swallow down the boring, repetitive meal.

“What’s wrong, Eren?” Armin blinked up at his best friend, watching him flinch as he sat down.

A thick aura of pure exhaustion seemed to radiate from him, and the overwhelming scent of strong soap and bleach overpowered the pleasant aroma of their supper. Jean in particular had caught a whiff of the chlorine-like odor while he was raising a spoonful of potato soup to his mouth, only to stop his motions instantly when his senses were flooded, returning his spoon to his bowl instead.

“Damn it, Yeager. You mind sitting somewhere else? We’re trying to eat here and you smell like poisonous shit.”

“It’s from the cleaning solution Captain Levi made. You’d know that if you ever bothered to clean up behind yourself, Jean.” Eren frowned, glaring at his frenemy. “I’ve been cleaning all day. Feels like I’m a maid instead of a Scout.”

“Captain Levi’s still giving you a hard time?” Sasha asked, tilting her head as she munched on her bread roll.

“Yeah.”

“It’s not fair. You should be training, not cleaning. We don’t have time for any distractions.” Mikasa stirred her soup around, her spoon gently clanking against the sides of her bowl. “I can’t believe Commander Erwin’s okay with the captain treating you this way. How do they expect you to reclaim Wall Maria soon if they won’t let you train and get stronger?”

“What?” Connie mumbled, talking with a mouth full of bread and soup, his wide eyes darting between Mikasa and Eren. With his elbow on the table as he held an empty spoon between his fingers, he swallowed down his food before speaking once more. “What’s going on?”

“Captain Levi’s torturing Eren by making him clean all day. All by himself too,” Sasha said.

“Yeah. He won’t even tell me what I’m being punished for, and honestly? I’m too afraid to ask.”

“I heard that you made fun of his clothes,” Jean smirked, resting his chin in the palm of his hand.

“What? Who the hell told you that?” Eren’s sudden shouting never failed to draw the attention of other nosy Scouts.

“Lower your voice, will you?” Jean rolled his eyes. “I’m not gonna reveal my sources. Besides, it’s true, isn’t it? I mean, what else could it be?”

“The hell if I know, but I didn’t make fun of his clothes! I hardly ever see the captain out of uniform, so he’s always stuck wearing the same clothes as the rest of us, you idiot.”

“Who do you think you’re calling a-”

“It’s because of the ring.”

When Armin spoke up, interrupting an argumentative Jean, Eren immediately softened, reigning himself in to listen to what the blonde had to say.

If anyone had the answers to anything, it was Armin Arlert.

“What ring?” Eren questioned.

“The ring necklace that he wears. I was there when you commented on it.”

“What did he say?” Mikasa stared rather intensely at Armin, almost as if she was trying to look inside of his brain and search for the answers herself.

“He told the captain that he didn’t think that he was the type of person to wear jewelry.”

“I don’t get why that’s such a big deal,” Eren mumbled.

“Eren,” Mikasa sighed. “You don’t comment on things like that. It’s rude.”

“God, you’re such a dumbass.” Jean frowned. “Didn’t anyone teach you what a ring on a necklace means?”

“No.”

“Well, it’s not a fashion statement, I’ll tell you that much.”

“What the hell does it mean, then?” Eren glanced around at every single one of his friends. This time, he was the one trying to look inside of their brains for answers.

“It means widowhood.”

Aside from the surrounding distant chatter from other scouts engaged in their own conversations, there was an uncomfortable silence following Armin’s words.

“Oh,” Eren frowned.

“Wait a minute, hold on,” Connie turned slightly to better face his group of friends, and leaned in. “You mean to tell me that Captain Levi was married? You’re joking, right?”

“Yeah, I agree with Connie!” Sasha paused. “Where I’m from, a ringed necklace means that you’re a fan of jewelry, and you don’t wanna ruin your rings while you’re hard at work. I mean, I think that makes a lot more sense than Captain Levi having a dead spouse.”

“If that was the case, why would he get so upset over Eren mentioning it, then?” Mikasa frowned at the country girl, who only shrugged in response before glancing down at everyone else’s half-eaten trays, while her own tray was spotless. Not a crumb in sight.

“Well, a ringed necklace means widowhood where I’m from as well. However, Captain Levi never mentioned having a spouse, and we’ve known everything else about him even if it was only through gossip.”

“That’s true,” Eren mumbled, looking down at the table. “Remember Petra? She was always talking about Levi’s past. If he was married once, she would’ve known, and she would’ve told me and everyone else. Believe me.”

“Well, even if he’s wearing his ring as a necklace so it doesn’t get ruined, it was still rude of you to say what you said, Eren. You should apologize,” Mikasa blinked at him.

“Right,” Eren paused. “I will.”

While the others involved themselves in a new topic for polite conversation until the end of meal time — all of them inevitably coming to the same conclusion that Captain Levi certainly was never, ever married — Armin didn’t say another word.

Eren and Mikasa would question him later on during the night about his sudden silence, perhaps during their stargazing session on the outdoor steps. He knew based on the worried glances that they both casted his way during dinner that they were curious about him being quiet.

In the meantime, the blonde boy had to cook up some sort of lie to tell them.

Maybe he’d say that he was sick of potato soup and bread.

Or that he had a headache from dehydration due to the recent shortage in their water supply.

All of humanity within the walls fell victim to a drought caused by a lack of rain. The little water that could be collected went to the Military Police first, along with their livestock and crops, then the citizens of the walls. Then the Garrison Regiment. And, lastly, the Survey Corps.

Lack of water was more than likely why he only had two little chucks of potato in his soup instead of four.

He was worried, truthfully, as a food shortage would soon follow, as if humanity as a whole wasn’t starved enough already.

Famine.

Certainly, the government would deploy the same tactic; sending innocent farmers, gardeners, fathers, and mothers to fight off titans and die.

Less famine.

Yes, all of this haunted his overactive mind. Therefore, telling Mikasa and Eren that it was the reason behind his silence wouldn’t be a complete lie, but it wasn’t the truth either.

For some odd reason, he was more frightened over the thought of being the one responsible for the entire regiment knowing that Levi was a widower than he was over the food shortage, because if he gave his reasoning as to how he knew, the news would undoubtedly spread throughout the Survey Corps. Therefore, when Mikasa and Eren finally ask him why he was quiet at dinner, he’d lie.

He figured that it was probably best to let everyone think that Levi simply didn’t want to get his ring damaged or dirty.

But Armin knew the truth.

And he knew it because of the infamous look on Levi’s face.

The face of widowhood.

And he’ll be damned if he mentioned it again.

—

THREE MONTHS LATER – YOUR HEADQUARTERS

They were late.

The rhythmic ticking of your stylish, black wrist watch had revealed it so. A heavy sigh fell from your lips as you waited, kicking your black boots up on your desk and crossing your ankles. Patience was aggravating. Time was expensive.

Arden, your assistant, was fidgetting wildly, as if standing still was eating him alive.

Perhaps, it was.

The young teenager was rather jumpy. Despite cleaning every inch of the polished hardwood floors, dusting off the expensive decorations within your luxurious office, and fetching you a cup of water, your visitors were still late.

“M-Maybe they got lost,” he said, his voice trembling. “I’m sure they’ll be here any second.”

Sweat poured off of his skin.

He was well aware of your impatient nature.

He was well aware of your violent nature.

The quiet ticking of the clock slowly turned into loud thumps of impeding doom, but not yet louder than his own rapid heartbeat.

The struggle to stand in his proper stance — feet together, hands folded over one another — only made his minimal worry fester into horrifying fear. The floor squeaked when he shifted his feet.

Casting quick glances your way, but darting his glassy eyes in another direction before you could catch him, he took in the sight of your oddly relaxed nature.

Your legs were stretched out diagonally across your desk, boots crossed over as you leaned back in your chair. Even so, he had known you longer than he could remember.

You seemed calm, but he knew better than to be fooled.

Perhaps, it was the way you tapped your fingers against your leg impatiently, or the slight flare of your nostrils as a telltale sign that you weren’t pleased.

And that scared Arden half to death.

After all, it was his job to confirm the arranged time and date for the meeting that wasn’t currently taking place.

He couldn’t help but wonder if he scribbled down the wrong time upon those inked letters that he mailed off several weeks ago. His head was hurting horrifically that day.

“You know, Arden,” you started. “Time is money. There are plenty of other things that I could be doing right now . . . things that could have somehow benefited everyone under my command. Instead, I’ve been sitting here for forty-seven minutes, losing time, and losing money.”

Arden gulped. He could only pray to any god that might have been hanging around up above — watching the shitshow of their creation called life — to make the wanted guests appear.

Otherwise, you’d get angrier. And he would be responsible for whatever hell you’d cause due to said anger. While you wouldn’t hurt him, you would definitely hurt anyone else.

Even though Arden often cursed the gods for creating titans and not giving their land more food, in this very moment, he thanked them.

He thanked them because the double doors to your office had suddenly opened.

In walked Alina, your second assistant, serving as an escort for your guests. Two men walked in through the door being held open for them by Alina. They were dressed in only the finest clothing, sharp beige suits that were undoubtedly tailored to perfection, and polished dress shoes that were expensive enough to feed a village for an entire winter.

“Gentlemen!” You greeted, “Taking our sweet time, I see?”

“We move on our own time, not yours,” one black-haired chubbier man said as the two of them sat down in the black plush chairs in front of your desk.

“Is that so?” you smiled bitterly. “Well, Mr. Hurst, if I recall, you and your men wanted to speak with me. I’m a busy woman, you know.”

“We are well aware,” Mr. Hurst paused, holding up his hand defensively as he spoke. “But we’re here now, aren’t we? Let’s get started.”

“We have . . . situation.” A softer voice belonging to the younger man, Henry — you believed he was called — sitting to the left of Mr. Hurst had caught your attention, your cold eyes darting in his direction. “We’re here on behalf of the king. Our situation is a precious one, as the fate of humanity depends on it.”

“The king?” You truly could not hide your disbelief. Your eyebrows raised in slight shock. “You’re telling me that the king needs my help to deal with the fate of humanity? He must be really desperate then. What exactly does he need from me?”

“He needs you to carry out one secret assassination and one kidnapping. Name your price.”

“How about you name the victims first? Kidnapping typically isn’t what we do here.” You paused, looking Mr. Hurst up and down. “Why does the fate of humanity depend on this?”

“Surely you’ve heard of Eren Yeager, correct? The boy who can turn into a titan?” Mr. Hurst asked.

“Mhm.”

“We need you to find him for us. Someone like him cannot be allowed to exist under the protection of the Survey Corps, especially after what happened in Stohess. Please work with us on this.”

“E-Eren Yeager? The Eren Yeager? That’s . . . really dangerous.” Arden suddenly said.

He truly meant to keep that statement to himself, as he knew he was never allowed to interrupt the meetings he would sit — or rather, stand — in on, but those words fell from between his lips before he even realized he was speaking aloud.

“Hush,” you ordered without looking back at him, then proceeded to speak to the two men before you. “Kidnapping a titan shifter, huh? That’ll be a first for me. That’s gonna cost the king extra.”

“We’re not finished yet,” Mr. Hurst shifted in his seat. “There’s still that other service of yours that we require.”

“Right. The assassination. Now, there’s a difference between an assassination and plain old murder. You of all people must know that, so I take it I’m killing someone important. We certainly have a ruthless king, don’t we?” You sighed softly. “So, who’s the lucky person that I’m killing?”

“He’s the captain of the Survey Corps. Believe me when I say that you weren’t the king’s first pick for such a task. Several soldiers have tried to capture Eren under the king’s demand, and every single time we’ve tried, the captain who’s protecting him kills all of our men.”

“Okay,” with a nod, you said, “so I gotta kill the captain in order to kidnap the boy. I hear you.”

“Name your price,” Henry, who was rather quiet throughout this meeting, leaned forward a bit as he spoke. The eagerness in his eyes was a telltale sign that he was desperate.

You assumed that someone he cared about must have died in the mess caused by the titan shifter and his captain.

“Before we get to that, tell me how I can trust you?” You frowned. “After all, to seek me out, you must know about everything we do here. How do I know that once you get the boy and the dead body, the king’s not gonna execute me and my crew to avoid paying me?”

Mr. Hurst gulped nervously.

When he furrowed his brows, creases formed along his forehead. “We’re willing to pardon you for all of the crimes committed in your past, and the ones you shall commit in the future. In other words, you can break the law as you please, and we won’t interfere.”

“Cute. Not good enough though.”

“Fine. Truth is, our ranks have grown weak. Famine isn’t helping, and with the captain slaughtering our men like animals to keep that . . . that monster safe, we aren’t in any shape to put up a fight against you and your organization. In short, we couldn’t kill you even if we wanted to.”

“I see,” You took your legs off of your desk, sitting in your chair properly as you scooted forward, resting your folded hands on the flat surface. “Well, even so, I want my payment first.”

“No. Don’t be ridiculous. You have to kill the captain and give us the titan shifter first.” Mr. Hurst tried to stand his ground, but nearly half a minute had passed, half a minute spent in utter silence as you simply glared at him, and he started to stammer nervously. “F-Fine. How about we pay you half now, and half after-”

“No. I want my entire payment first.”

“Fine,” Mr. Hurst mumbled defeatedly.

“Sir, this is ridiculous,” Henry turned to look at the nervous, older man sitting beside him. “She’s a criminal. If we pay her now, she’ll take the money and run-”

Henry was suddenly on the ground before he even realized that you had moved from your chair.

You were fast.

Incredibly fast.

You had gotten up from your desk, made your way over to him, and pulled the chair from underneath him all before he had finished his sentence. While his back and head smacking against the hard floor was utterly painful, he was in too much shock to process the aches he had felt.

Suddenly, you stepped on his chest with your black booted foot — stepped on it hard enough for him to struggle to breathe.

“You’re really impolite,” you said softly, glaring down at him. “You have a lot of nerve to speak that way in my headquarters. In my office. You already disrespected me by showing up here late, and now you want to act as if I’m below you?”

“Please don’t hurt him,” Arden shouted.

He was always the kind one.

And you simply ignored him.

It wasn’t until you reached back, your fingertips gracing the handgun tucked into the holster around your waist, that Mr. Hurst looked up at you with eyes begging for forgiveness.

“Please, forgive him. He didn’t mean to disrespect you. I apologize on his behalf.”

And you simply ignored him.

When your fingers wrapped around that sweet weapon of yours, he pleaded once more.

“In addition to the money, we’ll make sure that this place is the first to receive fresh water, delivered here straight from the king’s castle. We’ll also throw in a supply of meat and weapons as well every two weeks. How does that sound?”

While it was only a couple of seconds, it felt like an eternity — plus, an extra day — had passed by as Mr. Hurst, Henry, and Arden all watched and waited for your next move. Beads of sweat coated their foreheads. The only sound that could be heard in the otherwise silent room was their noisy, nervous breathing.

Eventually, you released your gun, and took your foot off of Henry’s chest.

“Fine,” you said, making your way back to your desk.

“Thank you. Thank you very much,” Mr. Hurst sighed with utter relief. Thank God. “Now, how much do we owe for your services?”

“I’m charging thirty-thousand for each.”

“Thirty-thousand? But that’s sixty-thousand dollars!”

“Hm, you can do math. Impressive.” You rolled your eyes, sitting back down in the chair behind your desk. “Do we have a deal or not?”

“Surely that price can be negotiated.”

“Yes, it can. fifty-thousand. Each.”

“You want one-hundred thousand dollars? What could you possibly do with so much money?”

“Mind your own business,” You smiled cruelly. “Well? Do we have a deal, or not? I’m tired of talking to you.”

“Deal,” Mr. Hurst pushed himself out of his seat. “We’ll return in two days with your money.”

“Thank you, gentlemen.”

As they made their way for the door, which Arden rushed over to hold open for them, you suddenly spoke up.

“Hold on. I know you want me to kidnap Eren Yeager, but who did you want me to assassinate?”

“You don’t know who the captain of the Scouts is?” Mr. Hurst said, raising one of his bushy eyebrows in disbelief. “Well, the captain of the Survey Corps is named Levi. He’s incredibly fast — has black hair and a death stare that can made you shiver. Kill him for us.”

Could he truly mean that Levi? Your Levi?

When the thought of your ex-husband crossed your mind, you couldn’t imagine him with a death glare, only a kind, soft, smile.

A smile you so desperately wanted to wipe away while taking his life.

You could see it now.

You wouldn’t waste a bullet on him.

No.

No way.

You’d stab him through the chest, look into his eyes as his soul slipped away beautifully. Then, your number one dream will have come true.

The brightest smile graced your face as you looked at the two men, and you softly said, “it would be my pleasure.”

♡ — FIND PART II HERE . . .

[satansapostle6]

Love The Sinner | Dexter Morgan

Dexter Morgan, a vigilante serial killer hiding in plain sight, loses sleep for the first time in his life when he’s met with the very last thing he expected: a kindred spirit.

Warnings: Violence. Mature language and themes. Sexual content.

Part One. Eyes of Darkness.

Most people, when they’re getting arrested, shit their pants with fear. Some scream, some cry. Some rage, and some try to run, and some just freeze. That’s what you usually see, when you’re in your parents’ living room, and your dad can’t wait to turn on the TV to the channel dickety-six news, of all things. But sometimes, people have other reactions when being handcuffed and shoved in the back of a squad car. Sometimes people enjoy it, for one reason or another. I smiled when Miami Metro put me in cuffs on the news. Laughed, even. You see my story is many things, but boring certainly isn’t one of them.

Let’s start simple. My name is Nicole Carvalho, and as of today, America knows me as ‘Murderous MILF’. You really can’t make these things up; I love this country. I keep reminding myself, if I ever go free, I need to clip that out of the newspapers. But see, right now, at this very moment, I’m sitting alone in an almost blindingly white interrogation room at the precinct, waiting for a cop to question me while they study me on the surveillance footage. I can’t lie, I’m sitting back right now in my chair, smirking. You see, I killed the men who violated and later took my baby girl’s life, and I’m currently very pleased with myself.

I don't think my grandfather pictured this when he left Brazil. This truly is the American dream; committing a crime and letting your own peers decide whether or not it was justified. In all honesty, a jury will be much kinder to me than ‘God’ has been. So, I figured I’d let myself have this one thing. I think I waited about a half an hour before they sent someone in; a female detective. They must’ve figured a matching vagina couldn’t hurt. The first thing I noticed about this detective was that she was strikingly young; close to my age. I’m thirty-six, so I would estimate her to be maybe a little younger.

But apart from her age, the next thing I noticed about this detective was that she was very robotic in how she interacted with me; she didn’t necessarily look like she wanted to be there. She barely looked up at me when she came in, holding my files and looking down at them like a teenager doing a presentation in high school.

“So. Nicole Carvalho. I’m Detective Morgan.”

She sits down across from me less like I’m a murder suspect and more like she’s interviewing me for a secretary job. I look at her, sitting forward as I join her in the conversation, still smug as ever. I think she was secretly hoping I’d say it, the four words that usually drove most cops insane that, for some reason, no one ever thinks to say in the movies.

“I want my lawyer.”

I smile as I say it. Detective Morgan also smiles, looking down at the table before getting up. I’ll never forget how pleased she sounded.

“Guess that means I can’t ask you anymore questions.”

She gets up and walks out, and that’s the end of it. In all honesty, I don’t think she was looking forward to questioning a woman about the murder of her daughter’s rapist. After the detective left me alone, I was allowed to call myself the lawyer that I had in mind. This, of course, was a friend of a friend, a perfectly shady guy named Johnny Bertelli, who was, in the nicest way possible, a fucking scum bag. You see, I work as a project manager at a marketing firm, so I’ve met my fair share of good lawyers, but Johnny was the fucking best.

He made Johnnie Cochran look like an idiot. He was the kind of lawyer who laughed at the prosecution in court, and I needed him. So there i was, in the Miami Metro precinct punching a number I’d gotten off Google into a wall phone. I looked around the precinct as I waited for someone to pick up, and suddenly it was like I felt a pair of eyes on me. I turned around, and I saw a pretty timid, mild-mannered looking guy who seemed as if he’d been standing there trying to figure out how to get my attention.

But the strange thing was, he didn’t seem to want my attention, at all, actually. If anything, he seemed perturbed by the fact that I was looking his way. I looked over at him, not knowing what the fuck his story could’ve been. Miami’s a weird place, because in this moment, I realized the guy wandering the precinct in a Polo and khakis could very well be an employee. I looked at the guy, not knowing what he could’ve wanted with me as I struggled with the phone. Funny enough, he actually just wanted to be helpful.

“You gotta press pound,” he says quietly, “For the call to go through,” and I almost laugh.

I appreciate the odd moment, just thanking him.“Thank you.”

He just nods, and says nothing as he quietly retreats to wherever it was he came from. I took his advice, and sure enough, the phone worked and patched me through to Johnny’s office. I wasn’t quite sure at the time, seeing as I was obviously a bit preoccupied, but I felt that strange man’s eyes linger on me for a moment. Even as I turned around, I could sense his surreal sort of presence that he had. Sure, I was used to having men’s leering eyes on me out in public; it was hardly unusual. But this was different.

Like he was less looking at my body and flesh, but more so imagining what was underneath it.

*****

The next couple years of my life were eventful, to say the fucking least. Johnny of course advised me to take my case to trial instead of taking a plea, for obvious reasons; there was no way any jury was going to give me the maximum sentence, or God forbid, the death penalty. I was a single mother who stabbed her twelve year-old daughter’s rapist seventeen times. In the eyes of the public, I was practically a fucking hero. Johnny’s confident that any jury would feel sympathetic to me, despite the brutality of what I’d done. As he says, the facts are still there.

My neighbor, a weasley little creep named George Randall got me, and my Isabelle, to trust him, and took advantage of her in the worst way. Then she killed herself, because of what he did, and I had to find out through a note left on her desk for me to find. So, I went to George’s with an empty baking dish of his, and once he let me in, I whipped out the knife I’d borrowed from him, the same knife I used to use to cook for my little girl, and I made his stomach burst like a water balloon. At this point, I’d already chosen to show little remorse for the crime I’d committed, feeling perfectly at peace with the possibility of prison, or the death penalty.

But Johnny said there was probably no need to be too fearful of either. He’d even told me there was a possibility I’d just get a few years, and then parole, or something, and I wasn’t sure that wasn’t bullshit, but I also liked his confidence. The reality of it was, Johnny had made much worse people look way better. To him, my case was already closed. All I had to do was play the part of the grieving mother, which took no effort on my part. I had to wait almost a year for my case to go to trial, which I of course did outside of a cell.

This gave me enough time to get all my affairs in order, or so to speak. My job was okay for the time being, and I knew I’d probably still have it so long as I wasn’t convicted of murder, given my ‘years of dedicated service’. Things were going to be relatively fine, eventually, but for now, I was stuck being paraded around like a jester on some twisted apology tour for avenging my daughter’s death. I’m a pretty good actor, but even my patience has its limits. And maybe wearing my white So Kate’s to court wasn’t necessarily the best judgement call.

But Johnny, being more than worth the money I pay him, made it work. I walked into the courtroom with him, humble and graceful, and didn’t let my eyes linger so as not to appear guilty. But even then, I caught a glimpse of him in the room. The guy who helped me with the phone. He was watching my trial, probably just as a police department employee. Probably.

“Will the defendant please rise?”

I complied with Judge Willis’s request, with my trusty guard dog by my side. I remained dignified, my head held high, but not too high, of course, as the proceedings began.

“Miss Carvalho. How do you plead?”

“Not guilty, your honor,” I told him.

The damage was done. My fate rested entirely in the hands of twelve strangers, and for some reason, there was a thirteenth who seemed oddly invested in the outcome.

-

Part Two.

[s0rr3l]

MODERN AU - PART 1

lore under the cut!!!

Lǐyú 🐟

25 years old

Grew up poor, but a hard worker - was in the student council throughout highschool and captain of the debate team; bit of an overachiever

Earned a scholarship to university and became… an accountant

Always had dreams to be a marine biologist or illustrator, but life got in the way and one has to pay the bills

Had no passion for their chosen career, becoming a workaholic and reclusive, plus being piled with extra work due to to being the lowest in the work hierarchy

Started a webcomic series to relieve stress from the job and posted on a whim, unexpectedly got really popular!!!

One time got caught in the rain without an umbrella and ran into an open cafe

Met the the owner @maiden-of-the-waters Beike and worker @marcu-bug Yu, who took one look at their sad, soggy form and immediately (unofficially) adopted them into their cafe

Lǐyú cried (which they’re still embarassed about) from the simple kindness of strangers, and started frequenting the cafe more

With support from the others, quit their accounting job and started posting comics full time, even picking up shifts for the cafe

Noticed by game company, scouted and hired for character design/concept, illustration and storyboarding

Co-workers with @marcu-bug’s monkey (Tao), who works in a different department

Unexpectedly ran into @dunanana Birdie in the cafe, and fainted from shock; has always been a big fan of her music

Did get over their embarassing hero worship after getting to know Birdie, and the gang always teases them about their reaction to their first meeting

Met @szynkaaa Oz while working a shift in the cafe, casually doodled a lil star on her to-go cup based on the accessories on her bag

Becomes roommates with Birdie and Yu after their apartment got flooded

More social and passionate about life; it really was going great! Surrounded by awesome friends and loving their new career; seriously, what could more could they ask for?

That was when fate decided to throw a Monkey their way

Destined One/Yēzi 🥥

24 years old

Star of the martial arts world since he was a child, has won numerous competitions in various fields

Impressive enough to be scouted for minor movie roles but didn’t enjoy the spotlight. Transitioned to stuntwork

Elder monkey is his grandfather and runs a dojo - he joins as a teacher and regularly holds classes for all levels

(the kids all love him, he is their favourite teacher!! Don’t tell him he said this, but he likes teaching the kids too)

Going to inherit the dojo when his grandfather retires, but that seems to be a while yet…

In his youth he was a massive menace, challenging all the dojos/martial arts associations with his own lil’ gang

He’s totally mellowed out now that he’s older, but his friends keep teasing him about his ‘younger days’

ANYWAYS, because of his wild challenges in his youth, he became a local legend and set off a trend for the up-and-coming students of other dojos to start challenging HIM

His friends call him Fruit Punch. And somehow it SPREADS and others start calling him the legendary Fruit Punch

Gods he was so mortified he wore a mask to try and hide, but it just fueled the rumours even more

So he’s always being interrupted and challenged by all these flashy characters and gained a reputation for being a delinquent/vigilante

(since they’re disturbing public areas, Yēzi always drags them off to the police station after the fight)

Grumpy guy

Of course he is, always getting interrupted by a bunch of guys when he just wants a smoothie or shopping for groceries

-

He enters a cafe, ready to order and hears this:

"Ah! Fruit Punch"

*sighs*

its gonna be a long day

Lǐyú and Yēzi 🐟🥥

He loves doodling. Unironically thinks Lǐyú (and Tao) has the coolest job in the world

Yēzi kept the cups that Lǐyú doodled on. Sentimental nerd

Lǐyú did not understand the culture around fighting for the longest time and had some... misunderstandings about it. Had a long sit down with Yēzi to talk about it :)

-

UGH they are both so oblivious

Lǐyú: Yēzi is so cool but a bit scary => actually he's kind of a dork => um wow that was hot- => oh!! What a cute laugh! => hey- shhh shh. Yēzi, I'm not going anywhere.

And it hits them like 'oh. OH'.

Yēzi is So Stupid:

Ugh they called me fruit punch => huh. They're kinda cool I guess => pretty fun to tease => pretty eyes~ => oh no. Why are you crying? I'll do anything, so please, don't turn away from me-

'oh. OH.'

[dumbgoondog]

Kento Nanami thoughts SFW+NSFW

Collection of headcanons for Kento Nanami.

Cw/Tw — Alcohol, mourning, slight nationalism

Nanami loves Corn dogs. Those crumb breaded dogs too. The ones you see on TikTok and RedNote. Oh he fuckin loves them but it’s his shameful secret because he has an appearance to keep up. He fuckin loves dipping those bitches in melted cheese tho. God he had a Mac n chee corn dog once and his life changed forever. Korean corn dogs his beloved.

He’s a whisky on the rocks kinda guy. Most people go for the classic beers, sake, whatever, but not him.

Despite being a second generation Japanese citizen and his grandfather being Dutch, those genes are horrifyingly strong and he has had businesses try to deny him because “Japanese only” or try to speak English to him. He’s so tired man.

If Gojo makes one more Dutch Oven joke he’s gonna have a midlife crisis. He’s 26.

He’s probably a Cis straight man. Sorry guys. Don mean I won write otherwise tho! That’s what fan fics are for bb.

He owns a house and a car. A nice house closer to the countryside of Tokyo to the north closer to Sendai, he hopes he can have kids running around in it one day.

Nanami didn’t become a teacher because the grief of loosing Yuu Haibara still haunts him and doesn’t think he could handle loosing a student.

Nanami totally housed Itadori at his place a few times while everyone still thought he was dead. He didn’t like that Itadori was being hidden down in the basement, that felt cruel.

His tie is spotted because his curse technique is imbued into it like his blade. If you wrap the tie around your fist you can hit a 3/7 ratio.

He’s into bondage. Not like shibari or with ropes, but like using his tie, or cuffs.

He’s pretty vanilla. Light bondage, a bit of spanking, some hickies, that’s about it tho.

He’s punk. He was kinda emo when he was younger and that evolved into him being punk. While he doesn’t dress or look the stereotypical punk aesthetic, he’s more punk than the guy wearing the Slip Knot tee with a septum. He goes to underground scenes and concerts, he goes to protests and marches, he donates and volunteers places. He’s got good band recommendations where the band doesn’t have any allegations. He’s pretty cool.

He’s down for some casual sex. I mean hey, he loves helping the assistant mangers out, wants them to be treated good you know? He’s very clear with any partner tho that he’s not looking for a romantic or long term sexual relationship.

He’s demi-romantic. At least that’s the easy way to explain it. For him he feels it’s a little more complex but doesn’t care to try and explain it or label it more specifically, just saying he’s a little bit aro is good enough.

He loves pressing just the tip in, and holding a vibrator to your clit/tip. He loves feeling you squueeeeezzze

He knows everyone thinks he’s super put together and that everyone is going “What would Nanami do”. God does it stress him out but he’s trying really hard to be that grounding rock that everyone needs.

He tries not to swear too much. Not because swearing is bad or he thinks people who swear are dumb, but because he just doesn’t like too personally. Which leads to whenever he does swear everyone losing their god damn minds.

When he’s dating you Nanami hardly ever stays for overtime. When he does he gets you a gift on the way home, like your favorite snacks or flowers. Seeing you happy makes up for it to him.

Anytime Nanami has to travel for work you’re coming with. If you want that is. He’s honestly a bit clingy and gets nervous when he hasn’t seen you for a while. Texting helps.

Min private, Nanami is a little more playful than you’d expect, he likes pulling little pranks on you, or practicing dad jokes on you.

[writingforatwistedworld]

Hii, I'm glad you're back . Even if it was for a few days you really left a place in tumblr not just for your work but for your presence itself.

I had a question for a while and I'm sorry if you answered it before and I seemed to not notice , if that's the case then forgive my ignorance but I was wondering , since sebek seems to respect his grandfather alot and has inherited the hate for humans from him and it's a known fact in self-aware au that the faes 'love' the overseer alot I must say.. does that mean that sebek also inherited his 'love' for the overseer from his granpa? If so how did green grandpa see the overseer, what made him 'love' them and how does he show it .

If you don't want to write this then feel free to ignore it , hope you have a great day and don't forget to drink water and eat well<33

Hi there Anon. It's so sweet of you to say that. I didn't think I would have made such an impression on anyone. But I completely forgot to write about Sebeks grandfather -_-

Well, better late than never.

Self-aware au

WARNINGS: Jp-version spoiler (like, the whole thing!!!), (Platonic!) yandere themes, war, religion, unhealthy mindset, isolation, unhealthy family dynamic

(Platonic!) Yandere headcanons

Ah yes, our local way too loud and loyal member of the reptilian family. No need to to worry about him. I mean, what could go wrong? (Hehe…)

Baul was not from the Valley of Thorns. Growing up in Sunset Savannah he did not grow up with the beliefs of the Faes (in other words, he was not part of a religious cult)

So imagine the huge shock he felt when he finally became a solider under the Draconia banner and started to become more and more like the other Faes

Well, for starters, yes, he wasn't indoctrinated into the whole church thing since birth but also wasn't raised to see you as an equal like the beastmen of the Savannah

You could say that he was a healthy mixture of both

Emphasis on the “was”

You see, isolation and being the only one sticking out (if we discount the humans invading the valley) does leave you open for a lot of things

If we count two (being the surroundings he was in) and two (his more or less unnoticed loneliness) together, we can see pretty fast where that led

Never mind his superior (and friend I mean come on they might as well be brothers) Lilia constantly rambling about the Overseer, savior of all, and how you accepted everyone in your kind embrace

Ok. Nice. Neat. Great. In the beginning, Baul wasn't very interested in joining any kind of religion

But the longer the war held on, the more he wished there was someone he could ask for help in his task of protecting those he deemed close to himself (you see the generational pattern?)

At some point, even the proudest of all can't hold on for forever

So he turned to you, the supposed God that was on so gentle

And goddamn that religious gaslighting and placebo effect worked damn well

Not only did he feel like there was someone there who supported him from somewhere in the universe (even though that was just him believing too much but let have him have some hope, ok?) but also he finally had a community

Whenever he would leave one of the many churches in the valley a Fae would approach, thanking him for protecting their home

Sooner than later did the former non-believer think of himself as your chosen shield of the valley

The war came and went away

If only the same thing could be said about Bauls new religious beliefs

And when he saw that grandson of his, cute little chubby hands that gripped a wooden toy sword tightly, he knew that his position as the valleys shield would not cease

Yes, even Baul would die one day. Fae or not, he was at the end of the day mortal

But that talent of his grandson would surely be of use to you, right?

If his younger self would see him like this, would it run away? Would it feel disgust at the thought that his future self would use his own grandson for selfish, religious reasons?

If only Baul knew that “God” didn't even know they were living beings that existed in a different world…

[reallyromealone]

please can you do a story with Kirishima, he is so cute, it could be a cute and hot topic where the male reader is Bakugou's brother

He does deserve a much and I'm here to give him some romance!

Kirishima didn't even know Bakugo had a brother, the explosive blond never talking about his family, the other Bakugo sibling having to come along to family night at U.A and clearly didn't want to be there as the Bakugo parents praised Katsuki.

"Hey! I'm kirishima, nice to meet ya!" He said happily to (name) who looked at him suspiciously "uh hey" he looked uncomfortable at the red head who seemed to burst with happiness "why aren't ya hanging with the others?" Kirishima asked as he sat beside (name) on the bench, the other sighing "and see my brother be the better sibling more? No thanks" it wasn't a secret that Bakugo wanted the attention and always made a point to be on top, it was also something (name) experienced his whole life"

"What do you mean?"

"I'm the younger brother of the one who got into U.A, I don't have a cool quirk-- hell I don't even have my parents quirk I have my grandfather's quirk! I just didn't want to be here so my parents could point at how much better he is" (name) didn't know why he was trauma dumping to the stranger or why the other looked at him with so much emotion.

"Wanna go for a walk?"kirishima offered and (name) didn't know why but he agreed, letting the other lead him around campus, Nedzu watching through the cameras happily.

(Name) snort laughed as kirishima did a silly run with his quirk activated "what even is that?!" How this person was bakugos brother was beyond Kirishima but he wasn't complaining, (name) was an absolute sweetheart once you got passed the awkward and rough exterior.

"It made you laugh did it not?" He smiled and (name) rolled his eyes "thanks... You didn't have to do this"

"It would be unmanly to leave you by yourself, besides a chance to show a cute guy how manly I am is an opportunity I won't waist"

"You think I'm cute?" (Name) asked as they stopped walking and kirishima blushed "uh, yeah... I wanted to talk to you since I saw you and God this sounds so stupid"

"I think you're pretty cute too"

Kirishima looked at (name) dumbfounded and (name) continued"maybe... We could go out sometime? Unless you're the type who needs to do the asking out"

"No! I mean yes! Dang, I mean I would love to go out with you!"

(Name) gently kissed his cheek "we should probably head back, it's almost 9pm"

"Yeah..."

"Walk slow?"

"Like a turtle!"

[souriru]

Jotaro x stylist reader‼️ Boy needs some fashion tips fr

part 6! jotaro who gets dragged to one of the more fancier stores of uptown new york by jolyne because by god, she cannot stand that shitty purple colour with the gold, and she makes her opinion very vocal.

part 6! jotaro who is ushered into the store by much younger and touchier women, and jolyne, who had yet to see the extent of the way this happens to him on a regular basis, calls for you, the manager of the store.

"oh, miss kujo! you brought your father this time, i see." you smile and nod your head in greeting, and jolyne sighs with relief. "i thought you were going to be handsy with my dad too," she starts as she shoves him forward like he was a wayward toddler refusing to step into the kindergarten classroom. "that was very weird."

"well, your father looks much younger than you'd expect for forty, miss kujo." you hum as you take a few steps back to fish for your measuring tape randomly. "don't worry, i'm not going to get handsier than this. just needed to confirm if we even carry your sizes, you're a very tall and broad man."

"but, even if we don't, we can have it made-to-order, so no big deal!" you add as you note down the sizes. "we do that all the time for bigger socialite gala events, i've had the pleasure of mr. joseph joestar and his wife's time as well once." you miss the way jotaro stiffens at that comment, but you keep humming. "anyway, considering you're here, i'm guessing jolyne's finally had it with your fashion sense?"

"finally?" jotaro speaks up as his daughter scurries away to look at cropped cardigans arranged for the fall sale. "well, you're well-known here, at least to me. your grandfather wouldn't stop complimenting your work, and your daughter over here wouldn't stop complaining about your, quote-unquote, "shitty fashion sense". honestly, i think you look fine."

"thank you."

"but it is also very shitty." jotaro scoffs lightly at that, noticing the slight smile on your face. "you know what colours work together, and yes, purple and gold is an age-old combination, one typically favoured by western royalty. but-" you pause, circling him around, and jotaro can't help but feel extremely underdressed the way you're looking at him. "you also likely wear the same kind of coat regularly with only changes in colour, which isn't really a style, per se."

jotaro nods slowly at that but remains silent, letting you speak further. "purple is a good colour on you, but so would blacks, blues, golds, and greens, and white. to be honest, black and while suit everyone, and any colour that you find on your body naturally would look good on you. your eyes are a specific blue-green shade, and blues and greens would bring them out." you add before you gasp and leave, sorting through a bunch of shirts to bring one that looked half-formal-half-informal to him.

"anything against compression shirts?" jotaro mumbles as you manuever behind him to measure the size of the shirt and he hears you chuckle behind him. "nope. compression shirts are good for you as you get older, so i've heard. and you look like you exercise regularly, so it's not a bad choice, even for casual outings with jolyne." jotaro nods once again.

"anyway, i'm all done here. i have joylne's email, so i'll email her the custom brochure when i'm done. should take about three to four days, and you can browse at your leisure."

"no." jotaro stutters. "no, you can email them to me directly. it'd be better that way... instead of going through someone else, and jolyne has her own schedule anyway, getting busy through the day."

"well then, i'd love to have your email." you murmur with a smile jotaro thinks is both coy and gentle, and he hands you his business card before tipping his hat and calling for jolyne to leave with him.

if you've never flushed because of a customer before, you're certainly flushing now.

i hope you like this wife <3 it took me a very long time akjdfhghdjs sorry about that :) || 679 words

[kirameitetegomen-mp3]

--reuploading this here because I panicked when I remade my tumblr accounts and was worried this was lost under an inaccessible read more (I had it saved in a google doc thank god)

Natori Shuuichi Character Analysis

Natori Shuuichi is one of the main supporting characters in Natsume Yuujinchou and probably the character who’s been the most polarizing in the fandom . As tends to happen with more polarizing characters, there’s been a lot of misconceptions and simplifications of his character. He’s the supporting character we have the most background info on and, like all the characters, is very complicated and fleshed out. His character arc and his dynamic with Natsume have gone through a lot of developments, from his cautionary tale type introduction to becoming one of Natsume’s most trusted friends. This essay will discuss his background and go into detail on many aspects of his character, as well as his dynamic with the protagonist.

General Background 

“Since I was little, I’ve been able to see things other people can’t. My grandfather and father became furious when I told them, and my mother looked sad. Our family apparently used to be exorcists, but the ability to ‘see’ died out. The family business folded. Ever since then, they’ve been afraid that one day the youkai will come for revenge. Then I was born, a new link to the youkai world. They started to think that I was the cause of the misfortunes that beset the family. Like my mother getting ill and dying and my grandfather becoming an invalid…”

Unlike Natsume, whose relatives didn’t know about the existence of youkai, Natori was born to a family of former exorcists. But instead of being grateful there was finally a new person in the family who could see, his family pinned the blame on him any time something bad happened to them, including the death of his own mother. He was seen as the source of tragedy in his family, and even told Hiiragi as a young child that if that were true, someone should have gotten rid of him before anything bad had happened. Because of what his relatives said, he believed as a young child that he was better off dead than alive.

In addition to this, a mysterious lizard-shaped youkai appeared on his skin one day when he was a child. This is what led him to begin studying all the exorcism resources in his family’s storehouse, but even into his early twenties has never found out what it is, other than realizing it never travels to his left leg. It’s revealed in special chapter 15/s5e8 that he feared it was some kind of curse and that it could hurt other people if they touched it.

Even aside from being hated for his youkai-seeing abilities, he was deemed worthless by his father who said he couldn’t do anything except scare the family to get attention. When he started prioritizing studying over eating, his father said if he had to skip dinner in order to get results, he was never good enough for anything in the first place.

It’s revealed late in the manga that his relatives stopped having children after him because they were scared of having another child who was like him. He desperately wanted a partner in his family to walk side by side with, but he saw through the disguise of his “younger cousin” and lost this as well. His aunt and uncle, his only relatives who didn’t resent him, left their estate, never to be seen.

Overall, his upbringing mainly involved being seen as a misfortune to others and too insufficient to amount to anything. By his teens, he had become avoidant of others, irritable and sensitive, very hard on himself, and developed an unstable sense of personal identity, with nothing in his life to tether himself to the world.

Joining the Exorcist Community

“I heard the rumors among youkai and exorcists. People still judged us harshly as a family, and this creepy, roving mark wasn’t helping. But at least when I was among people who could see them, I didn’t have to lie”.

Joining the exorcist community brought a mix of both positive and negative things into Natori’s life. 

On the positive end, it provided him with a source of stability he hadn’t had before, something he could anchor himself to. He found a purpose for himself, and a way to use his abilities to help others when before they had only been seen as something that brought harm. He could finally be around people who saw the same things he did.

On the negative end, he entered a community full of power hungry people who just wanted to use their abilities to gain power and status. The community held mindsets that youkai, and even humans, were tools to be acquired and used. Additionally, he quickly discovered that he was from a clan that was looked down upon and ridiculed by the rest of the community, and because of this, he isn’t treated well in the community.

At the beginning of his backstory chapter, we see he was very disconnected from others and the world around him. He was even disconnected from himself. His family avoided him at home and he avoided his peers at school. The thing he busied himself with most was spending time alone in the family storehouse, studying the exorcist resources left behind by his clan before they left the business. The exorcist community was the first source of stability and community he had in his life. It was a place where he could be away from his relatives who loathed him and where he could be surrounded by people with his sight. However, he immediately discovered upon going to his first exorcist meeting that even among people who could see, he was hated and scoffed at simply because of his family name. At home he was hated by his family because of his abilities, and at exorcist meetings he was hated by people who shared his abilities because of his family. They gossiped about him the same way his classmates gossiped about him at school. Despite this, he still felt content that he finally had found a purpose in his life, something to reach for and goals to achieve.

There were several main reasons driving him to pursue a career as an exorcist.

“If I keep going, I might find out how to get rid of this thing. Without it, I won’t have to feel so irritated. I might be able to be a nicer person. Even to my family…”

Finding a way to get rid of the lizard mark was a driving motivation that goes back all the way to his childhood. It’s what sparked his curiosity and determination to learn about youkai years before he even became an exorcist. 

The lizard is an unknown entity that lives and crawls around on his body -> this causes him to be constantly anxious because he doesn’t know what it is or if it’s hurting him and/or others and probably feels violated by it as well -> because he’s scared and anxious and uncomfortable all the time he’s always irritated -> because he’s always irritated he finds it difficult to be nice to people -> because he finds it difficult to be nice he avoids others and in general feels like he’s a bad person who hurts others. 

Therefore, when he goes back to the beginning of that sequence, he thinks the solution is to remove the lizard mark in order to become kind. His anxiety around the lizard mark is tied into his opinion of himself as someone who isn’t kind, and learning to become an exorcist becomes the apparent pathway to eventually be rid of his dilemma. 

“But maybe if I was able to exorcise this youkai, Mr. Takuma will accept me as one of them? Will I be able to prove myself to the other exorcists?”

Another is his longing for acceptance and belonging. He needs to be loved and needed by others, as this is something he never received in his childhood. He unfortunately doesn’t receive a lot of this upon entering the exorcist community. Even so, this doesn’t discourage him. He accepts that he needs to be patient and bide his time. If he can become strong enough, then he can become useful. He can “become somebody that somebody needs”. If he can defeat the youkai attacking exorcists, maybe Takuma will accept him as one. He thinks in order to be accepted by others, he needs to be of use to them, he needs to prove himself to others. He’s never been accepted just as he is, so he needs to make himself as strong and productive as possible so he can provide something for others, because he doesn’t think he’s worth anything by himself. 

“Dad… You’re worried about revenge because you used to be an exorcist. But what if… you helped people?”

The other big thing that drove him to become an exorcist is his general desire to help and protect others. Part of this is genuine altruism, but considering he grew up being told his presence was dangerous to others, it makes sense that he feels responsibility for keeping people safe. His abilities were always seen as a curse, but what if he could turn his abilities into a blessing? 

Sadly, the exorcism community doesn’t always contain the noble intentions and selfless desire to protect others and the accepting and understanding community that Natori had probably hoped for. It’s full of competition and sabotage between people who want to become famous and powerful and exorcise youkai at random just to test their powers and will even curse their colleagues just out of envy. This clashed with Natori’s ideals and goals, as he was more concerned with getting stronger in order to help people and become useful than he was with acquiring power and status for his own gain and reputation. He wanted to find a way to become kind, but entered a community full of unkind and petty people who try to undermine others. He wanted to be amongst people he wouldn’t have to lie to, but he ended up having to become an even better liar. Despite the positives it brought to his life it was also detrimental to enter a society like that at a time he was most vulnerable and unsure of himself and his identity.

Meeting Matoba and Takuma

“I’m not as good as the others, but I can see youkai better through glass. You know, It may be conceit, but I like to do what I can to protect people”. -Takuma

“You can’t protect anything if you’re not powerful, Shuuichi” -Matoba

Matoba and Takuma were the first two exorcists Natori met personally, and they appeared as two very different potential roles in his life, and represented different sets of ideals.

Takuma appears to Natori as a potential mentor or father figure. He is warm and kind to him and tells him he’s a nice kid, as opposed to how he’s been treated and seen by adults up until now. Takuma isn’t as strong as other exorcists, but he wants to do all he can to protect people and rid them of the fear and uncertainty they feel from youkai. This is what Natori also wants to achieve as an exorcist. He immediately latches onto Takuma’s kindness and desire to help people. However, even if Takuma is kind and cares for him, he keeps him at a distance and it doesn’t seem he ever became a true reliable mentor to him. This comes from a reasonable desire for Natori to stay out of trouble. He continuously tells him he needs to not come to exorcist meetings or take jobs, as it isn’t something for children to be involved in. While this may be true, Natori wasn’t going to back out of the exorcist community no matter how many times Takuma told him to. What he needed wasn’t for someone to tell him to stay away from danger when he wasn’t going to do that, he needed someone to look after him and guide him and teach him and to provide support in general. Additionally, Natori didn’t have anything else. His family was abusive and neglectful and he was uncomfortable and alone during school. He needed a community where he felt he could be himself and where he could have some kind of connection and be productive. Natori also doesn’t interpret Takuma’s pushing away as simply attempts to convince him to stay out of danger, but as a rejection because he isn’t strong enough. Throughout his first backstory, he thinks he needs to make himself stronger and more powerful. If he can do that, he’ll prove to Takuma that he belongs in the community, that he’s worthy of being an exorcist. 

Matoba is the first (and possibly only) peer close to his age Natori met who could see youkai. This would hopefully be a good thing, but the first thing he tells Natori is that he’s looking for allies he can “use”. This is the opposite of what Natori wants. He wants to be useful to others, but not used. Matoba is his first introduction to the kind of mindsets the exorcist community holds. The Matoba clan has maintained power since they started the community. When other weaker clans had fallen, they simply resigned to being absorbed into the head clan for protection. Natori’s clan is the one that refused to join and ended up leaving. Matoba wants to team up, but Natori immediately reads him as condescending and judgmental. From what we’ve learned about him and his clan, Matoba was raised to become the head of a powerful clan since he was young. It’s clearly seen in the way he talks and acts that he was taught his clan is at the top and the other clans are weak and foolish and stubborn. He’s been taught that you should use anyone and anything at your disposal who is useful. This worries Natori, who grew up being labeled as lazy and worthless. He has a very low view of himself and is desperate to prove that he is useful. But he doesn’t want to be useful as someone’s ally, he wants to be useful as an individual. This reflects the history of his clan’s history. The Natori clan wouldn’t work with the others and refused help to the very end, eventually giving up and leaving. We don’t know all of the details, but it’s likely this was out of pride as a very powerful clan. Like his ancestors, Natori also is resistant to Matoba’s help. However, this isn’t out of pride or thinking he’s too good for help, it’s because he thinks very poorly of himself and believes if he has to team up with someone stronger than him, then he isn’t good enough. He helps Matoba defeat the youkai they were hunting, but denies credit, giving it all to Matoba. Despite making a decent effort for his lack of experience, he thinks he failed completely. He wasn’t good enough to defeat it by himself, which means he failed. 

While it’s understandable that Natori felt uncomfortable around Matoba and avoided him, it isn’t fair to say Matoba was completely responsible for them not getting along, or that his only intentions were to make use of him and use him as an ally, or that he looked down on Natori. Matoba likes Natori, and he wants Natori to like him. He has a curious and enthusiastic nature, and takes genuine interest in others. Even if Natori is weaker than him, Matoba has respect for him and tries to provide helpful tips and compliments. He tells him things that could be helpful and compliments him when he succeeds at something (or at least makes an honest effort to). But unfortunately, despite his compliments being genuine, Matoba easily comes off as judgmental and superior and Natori is very sensitive to this. When someone your age or younger is obviously more experienced and stronger and talented than you are, when they try to be of help or compliment things that are much easier to them than they are to you, they are obviously reminding you of your weakness and inferiority and that you are too far behind to ever catch up. This is how Natori thinks, and it makes him very uncomfortable around Matoba. If he accepts his help, he accepts he isn’t strong enough to figure things out for himself. He can’t become his own person and follow his desired path if he gets stuck under someone with a clear and paved path.

More on Natori and Matoba’s Dilemma

Matoba and Natori’s situations are reversed in many ways. 

Matoba is from the head exorcist clan which has held power since the community started, and has been raised to be its leader. He would’ve grown up being praised and encouraged for his spiritual abilities. By his teens, he’s already grown into the role expected of him perfectly: he’s intelligent, cunning, ambitious, confidently seeks allies, has top-class spiritual abilities, and already knows the ins and outs of the industry. Natori is from a fallen exorcist clan. He grew up being loathed and ostracized and mistreated by his family members because of his abilities. He is intelligent, ambitious, and powerful despite his family’s expectations and views of him. Matoba has massive expectations and burdens from his family that he’s had to grow up with. Natori has no expectations on him or burdens to carry. Matoba has a narrow role assigned to him by others that he has to fit into, Natori has had to assign a role onto himself. 

Because Matoba has been given a clear and set path to follow with an entire clan backing him and guiding him, he is strong and unwavering, he knows who he is supposed to be and knows how to exist as that person. But because of this, his freedom is limited and he has very little space or opportunity to explore any options outside of what’s been given. He wasn’t given the choice on who he wants to be because it was already chosen for him. Because Natori was essentially discarded and cut off from his family at a young age (at least emotionally), he has never had a clear path ahead of him to follow and has had no one to back him up. He is shaky and uncertain about everything. He knows what kind of person he wants to be, but is unable to clearly see the kind of person he already is. However, the lack of expectations on him means he has the freedom to explore his options and think on what path he wants to create for himself, since there was never one given to him. 

They have natural gaps between each other that aren’t terribly big, but can never be crossed. Natori and Matoba are both powerful, but Natori will never see the beautiful chrysanthemums on the kimono. The two are close in age, but Natori will always be a year older than Matoba.

Despite their differences, they have more in common than Natori would like to accept. They are both very lonely, and they both crave closeness even if they deny it or put on fake ulterior motives.

Natori is lonely because he was isolated as something scary and unwanted, and his family kept him at a distance out of disgust and hatred. Matoba is lonely because he was isolated as a powerful asset for his clan, and may have been seen and raised as the future clan leader more than as just a normal human child.

In-between

We don’t know a lot about Natori between our two glimpses of him as a teenager and when we first meet him as an adult in the series. What we do know is that he had achieved his goal of becoming a powerful exorcist, acquired two servants (we still don’t know the story behind Sasago), and somewhere along the line became a charming up-and-coming movie star. His personality had also developed both for better and worse, you could argue. On one hand he had become a charming and more friendly person to be around, as opposed to his withdrawn and irritable teenage self. On the other hand, he had grown a lot more cold and cynical, and seemed to pick up a lot of behaviors and mindsets from the exorcist community (belief that youkai are either dangerous or they exist to be used as tools, manipulative behaviors, it’s better to take care of youkai before they pose a risk to humans, etc). 

Natori’s strengths: He is a charming and friendly person who’s kind and polite to his fans and coworkers. Even if he could be acting this way for appearances, he’s still learned to put aside his natural irritability and distrust of people in order to treat people he encounters politely (as opposed to the irritable and brusque way he interacted with his peers before). He is quick to recognize his mistakes and apologize for them, able to admit when he’s in the wrong (such as apologizing for the way he involved Natsume in his exorcism business). He is very concerned for others and it is his goal to help and protect others. He is determined and persevering and wants to search for his path in life.

Natori’s flaws: He has picked up deceptive and manipulative traits in order to thrive in his work community (such as omitting information or doing things in secret, acting charming to get what he wants or asking harsh questions to try and get Natsume to change his views). He is overprotective, and tends to use deceptive behavior in order to go about trying to keep people (Natsume in particular) safe. He is cold and cynical early on, often speaking harshly to Natsume when it comes to their disagreements about youkai (calling him naive and hypocritical, telling him he shouldn’t be soft to them, saying he needs to choose between youkai and humans).

Meeting Natsume

“I’m sorry, Natsume. I didn’t want to get you involved like this. You remind me of how I used to be. I just wanted to talk. I thought there were things I could tell you.”

After spending years being influenced and exposed to the exorcist community, Natori’s life was altered again after meeting our protagonist, Natsume. Exorcists exist at one end of a spectrum of youkai-seers: sympathizing with youkai is foolish and dangerous, youkai should be used as tools, you can’t protect people if you’re too soft; and Natsume is at the other end: being very sympathetic towards youkai, believing youkai are complex and have feelings and should be respected, you shouldn’t hurt them. 

Natori had many expectations in place when he first met Natsume: he was a young child who needed to be protected, he knew the same suffering and therefore must have responded accordingly (aka the same way Natori did), he’s very powerful and would prove to be a powerful assistant and exorcist, he needed someone older who could see the same things as him as a guide and mentor. What he got instead was a very headstrong kid who had become very sympathetic towards youkai, even to the point of being very against hurting them even in the case of urgent self defense. Natsume showed zero interest in helping with exorcism and continuously resisted Natori’s efforts to persuade him otherwise. 

Natori backed off on recruiting him for exorcism after seeing his reckless behavior, but still saw him as someone who needed to be guided and protected, and he still remained concerned at Natsume’s sympathy for youkai. 

Natsume and Youkai

“Don’t be naive. You have to have zero tolerance when they attack humans. [...] You see them, don’t you? Surely you of all people understand, after the suffering they’ve put you through. [...] You need to stay detached… or you’ll regret it someday.”

“It’s too late to be sorry after there’s an incident. You’re being a hypocrite. What if they lived near your beloved Fujiwaras? Would you still say it’s no big deal? [...] It’s about time you decided which is more important to you – humans or youkai.”

Natori has been in a community that only sees youkai as tools to be used, or dangerous creatures to get rid of. It’s a shock to him when Natsume yells at him for attacking a youkai in self defense, and later on when he jumps into a dangerous spell circle to protect one. Natsume shows as strong sympathy for youkai as he does for humans, something that Natori has never seen before. Youkai cause suffering to humans, especially humans who can see. Natsume has suffered because of youkai like Natori has, but yet he still cares for them as if they’re people. Natori early in the series sees Natsume as naive and foolish for this. He’ll regret getting emotionally attached to them, he’ll regret it if he doesn’t hurt a youkai who is dangerous. Natori has absorbed what the community taught him, what Matoba taught him. He needs to help Natsume realize how dangerous his mindset is. He chides Natsume for his softness, and he speaks very harshly and coldly to him during the situation with Kai. He ends up telling him he must make a choice between humans and youkai. If he really cares about humans, he should stop caring about youkai. But Natsume refuses to choose. He cares about both equally. Natori realizes he was too harsh and apologizes. 

He keeps his concern and caution, but he gradually begins to accept Natsume’s nature and his insistence at being connected to both worlds. 

Natsume and the Exorcist Community

“I’m sorry, Natsume… I brought you here so you’d see you weren’t alone. But maybe someone with your power shouldn’t make yourself known to others.”

“Now I’m sorry that I got you involved in this business in the first place… back then, I think I wanted to enlist you as an ally. Someone who could help me. That wasn’t fair to you. But now, I’m just happy to help you.”

It’s strange to me that the fandom often hated Natori for trying to involve Natsume in exorcism. It was very early on that he strongly regretted this, and he has spent most of the series trying to keep Natsume away from exorcists. The only two times he directly got Natsume involved in exorcism was when they first met (being very pushy about involving him even though Natsume was disinterested) and when he took him to the assembly (which Natsume actually did want to go to and help with). I don’t count the hot springs trip as he hadn’t expected it to turn into a big situation or intended to directly have Natsume help him. Every other time he’s either asked Natsume to leave (with Natsume choosing to stay or being unable to leave for some reason) or he’s let him tag along because he knew it would be safer than Natsume getting involved by himself. 

Keeping Natsume away from the exorcist business has been one of Natori’s primary motivations for most of the series. He knows it was wrong to involve him in such a dangerous world, and that Natsume should be able to grow up and try to live a normal life. This is what he wants for him. 

Natori especially grows concerned once Natsume gets involved with the Matoba clan, and he tries to interfere with them getting involved. The first time happened during the Kai arc. He specifically took the job from the Matoba clan to keep them away from where Natsume lives. He’s even unusually cold and harsh towards Natsume to try and dissuade him from being even remotely involved in the situation.

But then Natsume does get directly involved with Matoba very soon after this. It is especially the incident with Matoba’s letter that causes Natori to involve himself secretly. He finds out Natsume received a letter from Matoba, and decides to monitor the situation from a distance, using a paper doll to interfere when needed. He ultimately destroys the letter without Natsume’s knowledge. This is where we first see Natori’s desperate attempts to interfere in hopes of keeping Natsume safe. This then leads to the situation with the Book of Friends next time he shows up.

The Book of Friends

“Urihime. Natsume is carrying something that’s important to him. Find out what it is. Ginro made it sound like it’s something dangerous… that exorcists shouldn’t know about. Natsume is too nice and reckless. I wonder if it’s something he shouldn’t even have.”

“Such a dangerous thing… should be thrown into a fire.”

The situation with the Book of Friends is the other thing Natori has received a lot of hate for from the fandom. It was interpreted simply as a betrayal of trust and an action he took because he thought Natsume was too naive and innocent to be in possession of such an object. But was anyone considering the situation from Natori’s point of view?

Natori is an adult. Natsume is a child. Natsume is in possession of a dangerous forbidden object that attracts the attention of youkai, some of whom are hostile, and would attract the attention of most exorcists if they were to know about it. Natori is part of the community that both forbid the object, but which also contains many people who’d probably want it for themselves. Natori is understandably very protective of Natsume, and finding out about the Book of Friends was very troubling. It explains why he’s so involved with youkai, and it is a situation that puts him in danger quite often. 

Natori knew Natsume was hiding something after overhearing Ginro talk about the Book. And then later he saw how Natsume reacted to the matter of forbidden contracts. This gave him a pretty good idea as to what Natsume was secretly carrying. Natori knew he had to do something, even if it meant trying to find out about it behind Natsume’s back. In Natori’s mind and experience, it’s better to be deceptive and secretive than to wait until someone gets hurt.

Natori frankly is the only human who can protect Natsume from both youkai and the exorcist community. He also should take some responsibility for his safety, as he is an adult figure and also was the one who first dragged Natsume into the world of exorcism. 

It was arguably “wrong” to search for information on Natsume’s secret, but it also would be bad to just completely ignore his younger friend being in danger. It makes sense he felt it was very important to try and learn more about it.

Natori and Natsume

“Will you help me with my other job? Hmm… You’re speechless. I’m sorry. This must seem pretty sudden. I was just feeling happy. Do you get it now? You’re not alone. You and I are alike.”

“Natsume. Thank you. It made me happy… that you trusted me. For real. I want to be your friend. I want to help you. With all my heart. So… I… want you to keep this safe. I don’t think I could trust myself as much as you trusted me.”

Natori and Natsume’s relationship started off rough, but it’s probably gone through the most changes and growth out of all of the relationships in this series. In the beginning, Natori is harsh and cynical. He sees Natsume as being too naive and soft, and believes he needs to adopt Natori’s own ideas: that youkai are mostly bad and dangerous, and it’s best to take care of the particularly dangerous ones before they hurt people. He thinks if Natsume keeps his soft idealism, he’ll be in bad situations and have to regret it one day. 

But Natori continuously watches how kind and wonderful Natsume is, and he grows to deeply admire him for this. He still worries a lot about his safety and is skeptical of his relationship to youkai, but he’s nevertheless supportive, and would do anything to help him out. He quickly regrets how he got Natsume involved in a dangerous world, and is fiercely protective of him. Natsume grows very fond of Natori, and considers him a dear friend. 

In the beginning, Natori sees Natsume as someone who needs to be guided and changed and molded to fit his own ideas, but he gradually comes to see Natsume as a strong and kind person, and wants to be his equal and his friend. He also admires Natsume’s perseverance in staying connected to other people, something Natori gave up on. Natsume almost gave this all up after seeing Tanuma was hurt, and Natori is the one who told him he needs to hang on to these connections.

Despite how shaky their relationship started off, Natori has become a very kind and supportive friend who cares for Natsume deeply and is willing to help him no matter what. He has grown to respect him even though he didn’t understand him at first, and even admires him for his differences. Their friendship has become solid and reliable, and they have both started learning to be able to lean on each other for support.

Growth Between Natori and Matoba

“You’re quite right. But I like it my way. The Matoba clan has their ways… and I’m looking for my own way… the ideal I want to strive for. That’s my goal, even if I’m fighting in the dark.”

“I won’t pretend to know what it’s like… to bear the burden of the legacy you’ve had to shoulder. But I think… that these days, a person doesn’t have to bear it alone.”

Natori has shown a lot of growth in his recent interactions with Matoba.

Back when they fought a youkai together as teenagers, Natori thought he had failed. His spell barely worked, and Matoba was the one who killed the thing. When Matoba congratulated him for his help, Natori denied being of any use, saying Matoba was the one who took care of it. He couldn’t take care of things himself like he wanted, so he took that as a complete failure and denied any credit.

After getting locked in a room together as adults, Matoba once again thanks Natori for his help. Natori doesn’t deny it this time, and instead thanks Matoba for his help as well. He proceeds to tell him he thinks nowadays people don’t have to bear their burdens alone. This shows a lot of growth, compared to when he thought he failed for not being able to take care of a dangerous youkai by himself. Now he happily cooperates with people, both offering and accepting help. 

His interactions with Matoba as of late have also shown how patient he’s become. In the past, he responded to Matoba with frustration and irritability at anything that rubbed him the wrong way, even shoving him once. But then when Matoba chides him for having weak servants when they’re locked in the room, instead of getting angry, Natori calmly tells him he’s happy with how things are, and he’s still working on searching for the path he wants to follow. 

He’s still lost and unsure of things, but he’s accepted that he’s still working on himself, instead of wallowing in self-pity and feeling like a failure.

In the past, the two of them seemed to dance around each other, avoiding help and brushing off concern. Natori wanted to be far apart from him, while Matoba wanted a partner. Natori wanted to be of help, while Matoba brushed off the concern with a smile. In recent chapters, they have been working together efficiently, accepting and offering help. 

Natori is getting better at no longer stubbornly refusing help from others, and can accept that it’s better if people work on things together. 

Identity Issues

“I suppose there’s nothing riding on my shoulders. I wonder if… that’s why the world seems so unstable.”

Natori has an unstable sense of self. He’s unable to see himself clearly, struggling to see his virtues and strengths, being unsure of his personal values, and is very disconnected from both himself and others. 

He could also be interpreted as having alexithymia (inability to recognize or understand emotions in oneself, and also ties in to struggling to understand the emotions of others). He doesn't understand why he feels the way he does, and his emotions seem to have more of a physical reaction (saying he "feels sick") than being actually processed well. He seems to have a hard time understanding others' points of view and emotional responses as well.

Despite the identity disturbance, he does acquire strong goals. To become a powerful exorcist who doesn’t waver, and to be a kinder person who doesn’t hurt others. This is why discovering the exorcist community was such a pivotal moment in his life. He went from being driftless and detached to finding a strong purpose in life.

Natori faces a dilemma: he’s stubborn and doesn’t want to be shaped by someone else, but he also has a weak identity, leading him to be easily influenced by others. He wants to follow his own path, but still succumbs to some of the toxicity of the exorcist community. He describes his world as wavering. 

He doesn’t have any burdens like Matoba has. He has nothing tethering him to the world, and therefore he doesn’t know who he is, or who he’s supposed to be. He feels lost and disconnected. This is perhaps why the exorcist community is so enticing. It finally gives him a purpose in life, a goal to strive for. He now knows what he wants to be. But he still remains lost after this, and still struggles to figure out his path in life. 

However, in later chapters he seems to accept that he’s still searching for the path he wants to follow, and he’s determined to keep looking for it even if he makes mistakes along the way. He still struggles with his personal identity and his purpose in life, but he’s grown from his unsteadiness and fear he used to feel.

Deceptive Nature

“I’ve gotten too used to tricking people. You were having so much fun. I should have explained it to you. I’m sorry, Natsume. I’m really sorry.”

While he’s quick to admit he struggles with it, deceptive behavior is probably Natori’s most prominent and persistent flaw that still hasn’t completely gone away. He has a tendency to omit details, find out information in secret, or simply lie about things. This is also one of Natsume’s flaws, although they have some similar and different reasons for lying. 

Natsume’s reasons are generally for keeping his abilities and youkai a secret from others, which requires lying frequently. This is naturally something Natori also has to do. He and Natori both will come up with lies or stories in order to gather information. Natori will often find out information about people in secret, such as when he tried finding out about the Book of Friends behind Natsume’s back. He isn’t explicitly lying to Natsume, but he is being deceptive by intentionally gathering information about something important to Natsume without his knowledge. 

Something that Natori does that Natsume doesn’t is lying to get his own way. This mainly happened when he lied to Natsume about the situation with the hot springs, telling him he won the tickets in a contest and omitted the fact that he was actually going for an exorcism job. He also uses charm and wit to try and hide his true intentions at times. 

Natori, like Natsume, has had to learn to lie in order to survive in a society that won’t believe what he’s gone through. However, even though he found a community that sees what he can, he has to become a worse liar to survive there as well. It’s ironic, as Natori believed it would be a community where he wouldn’t have to lie. But sadly the exorcist community is full of back-stabbing and trickery, and Natori’s had to pick up these skills himself. 

Fortunately, he is well aware he’s struggled with these things and is working on unlearning them. He has been becoming a more sincere person for Natsume, and they’re both getting better at not hiding important things from each other anymore.

Relationship to People

“I’m not looking down on anyone. It’s just that… when your perceptions are different, conversations don’t mesh. And it makes me feel uncomfortable.”

Natori is asocial, and strongly avoids being close to other people. He doesn't seem to mind being around other people, but personal interactions are kept at a minimum. It seems he avoids actually mingling with any of his coworkers from either job, despite being friendly and charming to them. He lives alone and lacks close friends, only having professional or casual relationships. 

Natsume becomes the one exception. But the reason this happened is that Natsume was easy and safe. He’s young (young being something adults equate with being impressionable), he has similar trauma as Natori, he can see youkai, and he isn’t part of the exorcist community. Additionally, Natori didn’t originally approach Natsume as a friend (despite wanting this), but as a potential mentor to him. Natori presented himself as someone who could teach Natsume a lot about youkai, and how to protect himself and others. So Natori at first sees him as someone he can shape and guide. 

There are natural boundaries between Natsume and Natori that keep them at a safe distance. They are almost a decade apart in age, they live in different towns, Natsume is a student, Natori is an adult with two jobs. Natsume is someone he can be familiar with and fond of, while still maintaining a safe distance. Being friends with people his own age would have higher risk of them trying to form a closer, more emotionally intimate connection with less excuses to escape. Natsume is someone further in age he lives away from and only has a chance to see on occasion. He doesn’t risk having constant inescapable contact. Ironically, it’s because of all these boundaries that Natsume is easier to approach and form a bond with. 

Matoba is a different story. He’s a similar age, has an almost opposite background, wants to be the one to shape and guide Natori, and lives nearby and is part of the same community. He is also more skilled and experienced. This is troublesome for Natori. He doesn’t want to be close to him, and actively chooses to be apart from him. He doesn’t want to be shaped by someone else, the way he wanted to shape Natsume when they first met. The idea of being close to someone his own age who’s both so different and yet also similar is a terrifying prospect to him, so he stays away from Matoba. 

Natori faces a dilemma where he can't be close to people without sight, because he's too uncomfortable being with others who can't see the same world as him, but he also can't be with others like him due to his family being resented by his community. This again is why Natsume is the one safe person he feels kinship with. Someone who can see his world clearly, but who isn't a part of the community that looks down on him.

Natori is scared of being hurt and affected by others, but also scared of hurting others. So he waits until he finds the "perfect" person he thinks he can find a true kindred spirit in. But they still struggle to get along and Natori ends up being hurtful multiple times. This thankfully doesn't deter him, and instead he finally challenges himself to maintain and form a friendship despite the difficulties and despite making damaging mistakes. He remains determined and doesn't give up, and he always tries to make amends.

Famous Actor

Natori’s acting career ties into both his issues with his identity and his asociality. When you act, you get to wear someone else’s face. People see the character, not you. This works perfectly for Natori, and gives him the means of connecting with people without having to risk any intimacy or actual closeness. He receives love and attention and praise, but doesn’t have to lose anything by giving himself in return. He gets to be different faces on screen and be pretty and popular and beloved, but he can avoid having to get close to anyone. 

Again, Natori doesn’t mind being around people, it’s the actual closeness and conversations that make him uncomfortable. He’s happy to walk and talk with passing fans and receive congratulations from his movie coworkers, but he stays away from anything beyond that. He also is averse to being vulnerable. Acting is considered a vulnerable job, but the thing is, it's a safe vulnerability. The audience is watching the character, not you, even if you’re pouring yourself into the character.

Acting also provides a sort of temporary identity. You get to put a mask on and play out an imaginary scripted person. You can lean on your own experiences while being a completely different person. It's a safe and guarded way to explore human nature and personal identity. Perfect for someone who struggles to see themselves clearly.

Problems with the Fandom

“He’s always dragging Natsume into his exorcism business!”: I already went over this a lot. He got him involved a couple times and realized very early on this was wrong and apologized. He has spent most of the series trying to keep him from getting involved.

“He’s an asshole!”: He was mean several times and apologized each time. He’s mostly a kindhearted and gentle and supportive person.

“He’s a liar!”: So is Natsume.

“He wants to change Natsume and tries to push his views onto him!”: He did at first, but realized it was wrong and has come to deeply admire Natsume and respect his differences.

Conclusion

Natori is a very fleshed out and well-written character in Natsume Yuujinchou. He has a lot of flaws, but that just means he’s had even more positive growth as a character. He goes from being harsh and cynical to being a very kind and supportive friend to Natsume. His similarities and differences to Natsume make him an intriguing character in the series and his relationship with Natsume to me is one of the most interesting parts in the story. He’s sadly received a lot of hate and backlash from the fandom, mostly due to misinterpretations of his character. Thankfully it’s gotten a lot better, but I think it’s important in the fandom space to discuss these things in detail instead of misreading everything and jumping to conclusions. 

[the-fiction-witch]

The Harrenhal Wedding

Media - House Of The Dragon Character - Oscar Tully Couple - Oscar X Reader Reader - Y/n Blackwood (Benjicot's Sister) Rating - 15 Word Count - 2952

Requested -

Please make one shot about oscar tully and his fiance ( blackwood) when they meet first time i think that would be really cute

Oscar had been staying at harrenhall since his promotion to lord paramount of the Riverlands, he remains with his river lords as the armies raise and gather. But this morning Lord Simon Strong summons him to the grand hall where lord strong and Prince Daemon sit,

“Morning My lord Strong,” Oscar nodded,

“Morning my lord Tully,” Simon nodded,

“Targaryen,” Oscar snapped in Daemon’s direction,

“Tully.” Daemon glared back,

“What’s all this about anyway?” Oscar asked,

But the door quickly opened to the young Benjicot Blackwood, the new lord of Raventree Hall,

Lord Blackwood stood and bowed,

“My lord Blackwood, a pleasure,” Oscar nodded,

"My Lord Tully, I rode as soon as word reached me .. is it true? My lord uncle? Ser Willem Blackwood, he was executed? Here on your orders?"

“He was, my lord, yes.” Oscar was unflinching with his answer,

"...may I ask why my lord?" He asked,

Oscar sat back in his seat, “Your uncle committed crimes against his neighbours, curel and merciless crimes, his punishment was just. But I do not blame your sadness at this loss.”

lord Blackwood nodded "... I understand, please may I ask his remains be returned to Raventree hall to be laid under our werewood as his forebears?"

Oscar nodded, “Of course, lord Blackwood, I will have them sent to Ravnhall immediately.”

"... please my lord, i- I hope my uncle and his actions, do not sully our families name,"

Oscar shook his head, a slight bit of sympathy in his eyes and tone “You need not worry, my lord” Oscar tried to give the young lord a bit of comfort before speaking again, “His crimes are his own and I assure you his crimes do not sully your house.”

"yes my lord I understand, but... House Blackwood would still like to pledge themselves to your fealty and your war for Queen Rhaynea"

Oscar smiled, standing from his seat and striding over to blackwood, putting a firm hand on the young lords shoulder and speaking in a commanding tone

“That is greatly appreciated my lord,” Oscar nodded, “And I don't have to worry about your loyalty like I did with your uncle, do I?”

"No my lord, and as proof of our loyalty I come with an offer for you."

Oscar raised an eyebrow, slightly amused, his hand still on the boys shoulder “An offer? What kind of offer?”

"... In the riverlands we celebrate our new lord paramount, as much as we grieve your grandfather Ser Grover Tully." Lord Blackwood began "And house blackwood has been loyal to house Tully as our legige lords. And as the new lord of House Blackwood myself I wish to make an offer that would bring great joy and honour on my house as well as faith of our alliance to yours," he nodded "you, yourself Lord Oscar are a young man, unmarried. And I would like to offer my sister Y/n Blackwood to be your bride."

Oscar raised his eyebrows in surprise, slightly taken off guard by the offer. He looked at the young lord for a moment “Your sister.” He thought for a moment before speaking again “She is of age, I presume?”

"yes my lord, she is two years your younger"

Oscar nodded, “And attractive, I'd hope?”

he chuckled "The ravens of raventree hall sing for her, smallfolk of our keep say a beauty like her has not been born in our family since Missy blackwood"

“That's what I like to hear…” Oscar paused for a moment “It's a fine offer, my lord, your sister will make a fine lady of riverrun.. I accept your offer, on one condition.”

“Yes of course, anything my lord,”

“We consummate the marriage as soon as possible.”

"Yes my lord. you - you honour me, my house and my sister. She is with me. You may wed in the sept as soon as you wish and bed her as you see fit. Perhaps the gods shall bless you with a babe in her belly before this war begins its march"

Once again, Oscar was slightly surprised by the young lords quick and eager compliance. He smiled, looking down at the boy, keeping his hand on his shoulder

“The preparations will be made at once... and don't worry, my lord, I'll be filling your sisters belly before the end of the week.”

"we can hope my lord" lord blackwood bowed low

“Very good, my lord.” Oscar smiled, striding back to his seat as the boy left. As the young lord exited the hall, Oscar returned his attention to the prince and Lord Strong who had been watching the pair

“Well, that worked out well.” Lord strong nodded,

Daemon chuckled

Oscar retook his set, looking up at the Prince “What? Got something to say, Targaryen?”

"No man gives his sister away that easily unless there's something wrong with her." Daemon laughed

Oscar chuckled, resting his arms on the table and leaning forward “Or it shows great loyalty and devotion.” “Besides, the boy is young. He's naive. He probably has no idea what she's in for.”

"you are a young boy" Daemon glared

Oscar smirked, leaning against the back of his seat “Only in comparison to you, Targaryen” he glared, “Now…The riverlords have been gathering at harrnehall, it will take a while yet for us to raise our full armies, but we're not far off now. My question is, what shall be our next move?”

"we wait for word from the queen" Daemon glared

Oscar raised an eyebrow slightly at the princes sharp, glare. He took a deep breath before speaking, keeping his eyes focused on the prince, speaking in a low, commanding tone “I'll be blunt, Targaryen, if we wait to long before we strike then the greens will have more time to prepare their armies, and they will be stronger. We need to attack them when they are vulnerable, unprepared.”

"And you wish to march half a River army to kings landing yourself?"

Oscar chuckled, his eyes still focus on the prince. He shook his head gently before responding “That depends, you'd be with me, wouldn't you, Targaryen?”

"I would be on caraxes. Watching you be slaughtered"

Oscar smirked, sitting back slightly in his chair and crossing his legs, still focused on the prince “Ah yes. Your dragon.” He remained silent for a moment, his eyes boring into the princes eyes before speaking again, mockingly imitating the princes voice "I cannot enter any conflict without my precious dragon."

"mind your tongue boy" Daemon glared

Oscar smirked, he didn't fear the prince, not at all. If anything, he saw him as an equal. He sat forward, his eyes burning into the princes “Or what?”

"I think we should uhhh discuss" Simon strong spoke up "if you are to proceed with this wedding my lord..."

Oscar broke eye contact with the prince and looked over to Strong, slightly annoyed that he had been interrupted “What is it, Lord Strong?”

"... House blackwood keeps the old gods, not the seven my lord" lord strong explained,

Oscar nodded, “Yes.. I'd imagine that will be of slight.. issue. And you, Targaryen? What is your view on the matter?”

"Targaryen’s do not hold to any gods. It is irrelevant" Deameon shrugged

Oscar nodded once again, speaking with a mocking, sarcastic tone “Fantastic. So a marriage between a Riverlord, of the faith of the seven, and a Blackwood, of the old gods.” he chuckled, “That will be... interesting..”

"Stranger things have happened my lord, shall we make arrangements for this wedding?" Lord strong asked

Oscar nodded, sitting back against his chair, folding his hands into his lap, and speaking in a more serious tone “Yes. We shall.” He thought silently for a moment before speaking again “But I expect I won't be allowed to consummate the marriage until the ceremony, correct?”

"as is tradition my lord yes." Lord strong nodded "wedding and then bedding ceremony"

The word made oscar cringe, he sighed, that was probably the part he liked the least. He hated the idea of a bunch of drunk men stripping his wife half naked, he hated the idea of other men looking at his wife. It annoyed him. He looked up at strong again “Can we not skip that bit? I prefer to keep my future wife to myself rather than letting your drunken courtiers gawk at her.”

"you can refuse the ceremony if you wish my lord" Simon nodded

"I refused for all three of my wives. The first because I didn't want to inflict her nudity on the men of the runestone. The two others... Because I wanted to strip them myself " Daemon smirked

Oscar smiled, at least the prince agreed with him there. He wasn't alone with his distain of the ceremony “Good. I'll be doing the same then. I don't want anyone seeing my wife like that. I want that privilege all to myself.”

"we shall begin preparing then," lord strong nodded

Oscar nodded “Good. Please, keep me informed with the preparations.”

He stood, gesturing for the other two to take their leave before he himself left the grand hall,

The wedding had been arranged as a quick affair, the armies still gathering at harrenhall, so the wedding would be the riverlords as witness, in the godswoods with a septon, and a small feast in the grand hall. Nothing too monumental but with war looming the time and expense could not be spared for a grand affair

Oscar sat in the Great Hall, He fiddled restlessly with the chalice of ale in his hands, waiting for the marriage ceremony. He couldn't wait to be wed, to finally have a proper lady at his side and a wife to keep the bed warm when the nights grew cold and the war grew long. He was ready to begin life as a married man, and the wait for the ceremony to start was annoying him

lord strong approached and bowed "it is time my lord, the septon stands in the godswoods awaiting the ceremony to begin"

Oscar nodded, standing from his seat and finishing the last of the ale in his chalice “Very well, let's get this over with.” The more impatient voice in him spoke, the one that just wanted to skip straight to tonight. He followed Lord Strong outside and through the godswood,

the riverlords loomed around the godswoods, many of the men in the armies had gathered outside on the rocky ruins to get a view into the godswood, prince Daemon lingered his hand on his sword, a septon stood in front of the werewood tree,

"My lord Tully, the seven has blessed us with a beautiful day" The Septon smiled,

Oscar approached the septon, “They most certainly have, septon.” he nodded, “Now, let us not waste any more time. I shall be a married man before the sun sets.”

the septon nodded and signalled beyond the woods. Hush suddenly came over the lords.

Oscar turned his head, taking a step forward, his eyes focused on the woods behind him, waiting. He took a deep breath, the time was here. The long day of waiting and preparation was over. He was so close to being wed, the feeling was exciting. He focused his gaze and waited for his bride

the doors opened wide and Lord Blackwood stepped out, and on his arm was his sister.

Y/n Blackwood, she was a Y/H and somewhat Y/B/T girl, with a sweet face, tender skin, y/e/c eyes, long Y/H/C styled well, she wore a silvery gown with matching gems about her. A maiden’s cloak of red and black the colours of house Blackwood draped over her shoulders,

Oscar's eyes locked as she entered, taking in the sight of his bride and a proud smile came across his face,

her brother brought her to the tree and she bowed low she was clearly nervous but she still smiled to him

Oscar looked down at the lady Y/n, seeing her bow low to the ground in front his eyes, he smiled, she was beautiful, shy and nervous too. It reminded him of a scared fawn, small, nervous, and beautiful.

the Septon nodded "Who brings this maiden to be wed?"

"I, Lord Benjicot Blackwood of Raventree Hall, Her brother, and her protector." Lord Blackwood nodded "She is a maiden flowered, unsoiled and pure, and I give her willingly for this match"

Oscar felt the pride in his chest once again at the mention of her being a maiden, pure and unsoiled, as a good wife should be.

"Who comes to claim her?" The septon asked,

He took a quick, deep breath and spoke in a steady, determined voice “I, Oscar Tully, of Riverrun, come to claim this lady. Her honour, and her hand.”

lord Blackwood slowly handed Y/n's hand to Oscar letting him feel her soft hand for the first time, her skin was soft but her fingertips were likely from embroidery or other such sewing works, feeling her soft palm against his, his fingers interlocked with hers. He was surprised at the softness and smoothness of her hand, but then again, he should have expected it. After all, she was a noble lady. A small smile spread across his face as he felt the calluses on her fingertips, a stark reminder that she wasn't just a lady, she was a practical and smart girl as well.

Seven vows were made, seven blessings invoked, and seven promises were exchanged, "And now bring her into your house, your home and your protection." The septon nodded,

Lord Blackwood slowly removed the cloak of Blackwood colours from Y/n leaving her to shiver for a moment but,

Oscar took the Tully cloak from Lord Strong and gently wrapped it around her shoulders, fastening it at the front,

she smiled rather excitedly,

"As with the draping of these colours, the maiden sheds her time as a blackwood maiden and is here and now a Tully bride." The septon then took a beautiful woven cord of the colours of house Tully and Blackwood, binding their joined hands in a handfasting knot "in the sight of the seven, I hearby seal these two souls binding them as one for eternity"

Oscar smiled as the septon tied the handfasting knot around their wrists, the seven colours of House Tully and House Blackwood intertwined together. He looked down into Y/n's eyes, her excitement was infectious, and it made his chest feel warm. He tightened his grip around hers, smiling down at her as the septon continued speaking

“Any who wish to challenge this union, this is now your time to speak,” The septon asked, but no one spoke, "you may now speak the words"

"Father, smith, warrior, mother, maiden, crone, stranger..." She nodded slowly given she had only just leant all this "I am his, and he is mine from his day to the end of My days" she smiled,

Oscar nodded, keeping his eyes focused on Y/n. He smiled as he spoke, his voice steady and firm, yet soft and gentle at the same time “I am hers, and she is mine from this day to the end of my days.”

"and you may seal with a kiss my lord." The septon said a little quietly

Oscar smiled, he'd been looking forward to this part. He slowly lifted his hand to her chin, his fingers gently gripping her soft skin. He lifted her face, his eyes still locked with her,

“With this kiss I pledge my love, and take you for my lord and husband,” she blushed,

“With this kiss I pledge my love, and take you for my lady and wife,” Oscar smiled, before leaning down and gently pressing his lips against hers, in a long, soft, but firm kiss

she softly kissed back slightly gasping when loud applause and cheers came from the riverlords, which then triggered a large celebration from the many men of the armies who had all loomed outside the godswoods to watch what they could, even daemeon gave a small applause

Oscar took advantage of the applause and cheers from the riverlords to deepen the kiss, his hand still resting on her chin, holding her face as he pressed his lips harder into hers, his other hand resting on her waist and pulling her closer to him. The cheering was a reminder to him that the entire world was watching, and he wanted to show just how much this marriage meant to him. He ignored his surroundings, and focused solely on Y/n, his new wife. Eventually, after what felt like an eternity, he reluctantly pulled back from the kiss, taking a deep breath as he broke apart. He looked back into her eyes, their faces so close they were almost touching. He smiled, taking in the feeling of her soft skin against his, the sweet, gentle kiss, and the sound of the riverlords cheering in applause.

she softly Giggled when he pulls back her cheeks a little red from her not expecting such a passionate kiss from her new husband,

Oscar couldn't help but smile at her Giggling, her soft, gentle voice making his chest feel warm. He took a deep breath, before gently cupping her face in his hands, his thumb gently brushed across her soft, rosy red cheeks

"then it is and always shall be." The septon nodded as he untied their joined hands, “one flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever.”

“You have a pretty laugh, you know that?” he smiled to her,

she giggled again "Thank you my lord"

Oscar smiled again, resting his forehead against hers “Please, call me Oscar. My name sounds far better coming from your lips.”

"... Yes Oscar" she nodded

He smiled, his chest warming at the sound of his name coming from her mouth. It sounded good. He slowly leaned back, gently wrapping his arm around her waist “I suppose we should return to the festivities now, my wife. And you can expect a lot more of that later on as well.”

she blushed but nodded as he lead her through the godswoods passing the lords as they headed inside the harrenhall grand hall.

[dear-aubade]

Tainted Prayers

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader Asylum AU

Notes: Religious themes, cultists, topics may be sensitive to readers

Hope you guys enjoy! I've taken some creative liberties (this is an AU after all) with adding in some of my own worldbuilding. I'd love to make a part 2 if there's interest!

Edit: PART TWO is up!

Every time Joel smelled that metallic tang curling beneath his nose, he tried to think of his grandfather’s farm. 

Old Grandpa Charlie had been one of those men who never did seem to lose their youth, even with age. He’d been robust, spry. There had been quite a few times when Joel had been out helping him clip the horses’ hooves or shear the sheep when his grandpa would suddenly halt what he was doing. He’d sniff the air, then turn to Joel with a twinkle in his eye.

“Smell that, boy?” he’d ask. “It’ll be rainin’ soon.”

The first time it had happened, Joel had made a frown of confusion so deep it was almost comical on his eight-year-old face. “But there ain’t a cloud in the sky—”

“That don’t matter.” The old man tapped the side of his crooked nose. “You can smell it, see. Smells like metal in the air.”

Sure enough, the next day there had been a downpour. 

It helped Joel to look back on such memories. Sometimes, if he pretended hard enough he was back on that farm, he could imagine that the metallic stench permeating the air was due to a coming rainfall rather than the blood spilled on the asylum floor. 

The poor woman stuck cleaning the mess met his eyes before he could avert them. She gave him a small, strained smile. “Father Miller,” she greeted.

He nodded back, stomach twisting. He didn’t stop walking. 

The woman went back to scrubbing the floor and Joel focused forward once more as he continued down the hall. His clerical collar felt tight, like a serpent squeezing his neck.

Eventually he was far enough where the metallic tang of the blood no longer reached him. Joel began to clear his mind, instead focusing on the task ahead. He’d been serving at the asylum for nearly twenty years and not once had he been assigned to patient collection. When he’d received the call for this particular assignment, he’d had half a mind to argue, but Bishop David had quickly reminded him that the task had been given by God, and as such rejecting this opportunity would be rejecting Him. 

Joel exhaled. God’s work, he thought. This is God’s work. It had become a sort of mantra these past years. He had to continually remind himself that Silver Lake Church had assigned him to the asylum because the tortured souls here needed him—he was meant to be a tool in God’s hands to aid Him in His mission of reformation.  

Joel held his keycard up to the lock beside the door. When he stepped outside, he squinted his eyes against the harsh sunlight. Gravel crunched beneath the soles of his shoes as he made his way out onto the drive and spotted another priest. 

“Mornin’, Father Clyde,” Joel greeted, approaching the man waiting beside the barbed wire gate. 

Father Clyde turned and a gentle smile split his face, calling attention to the wrinkles around his mouth. Joel didn’t know exactly how old the man was. Younger than Grandpa Charlie, yet still quite a few years older than Joel himself. 

“Good morning, Father Miller,” Father Clyde replied politely. 

“That the patient’s file?” Joel asked, nodding to the thin manila folder in Father Clyde’s hands. 

Father Clyde nodded. “This is your first time at collections, yes?” His voice was smooth—a contrast to his grooved face.

“Yes, sir.”

Father Clyde passed the file to Joel. “Today is going to be rather…unusual, I am afraid.”

“Unusual?” Joel opened the file to skin the information. “How d’you mean?”

“Many patients can be aggressive when we extract them from the bus, but today’s subject…well, her guardians submitted her blood scale number as a Ten.”

“A Ten?” Joel frowned. “And they only sent two of us to deal with her?”

“This one was described to be…different.”

The Blood Scale was an easy way for society to rank the color of one’s blood—and purity—from One to Ten. The general population fell within the range of Three to Five. Tens were the worst of the lot. Their blood was the color of the sky in the middle of the night—deep black like their demonic souls. 

On the other end of the scale, Ones had blood the color of snow on a fresh winter day. They were the purest humans to walk the earth, but the only Ones Joel had met were newly-born babes who didn’t even have the capacity to sin yet. By age thirteen, most people’s once-light blood had already darkened to at least a Three. 

Joel looked over the patient’s file once more. “If she’s a Ten, how come she’s not being sent to the East wing?” The East Wing was where they kept all Tens, with a few Nines sprinkled in there every now and then. Joel hadn’t ever been there, but the stories from that part of the asylum made his skin crawl. 

“If her guardians felt the need to send her here and Bishop David approved it, then that is all we need to know. It is not our judgment to make,” Father Clyde was saying. “That is revelation that Bishop David receives from God. It is simply our job to carry out the tasks we are assigned to.”

Joel frowned. “The file doesn’t say anything about what her crimes were.”

“It’s not about what she’s done, Father Miller. It’s about who she is. If she’s being sent here then that means her soul must be reformed, regardless of whether her blood is dark or light.”

The sight of the bus driving towards them halted their conversation. The gate opened with a screech, and the bus drove through. Its tires squealed to a stop.

Father Clyde took the file from Joel as the gate rattled closed. He nudged Joel towards the back of the bus, where the bus driver was pulling a keyring out of his pocket. 

“You the one collecting?” the driver asked, looking at Joel.

Joel nodded. The driver didn’t respond, he just merely twisted the key into the padlock on the bus’ back door and swung it open. Joel braced himself for an animal of a human being to throw themselves at him, for snapping teeth and sharp fingers…

Inside, fast asleep and curled up on one of the padded benches, was you. You were in a sweatshirt so large it seemed to swallow you whole. You looked tiny. Fragile. 

“Wake up!” The bus driver bellowed, thumping his hand on the side of the bus. The jarring sound echoed in the cramped interior.

You jumped awake with a gasp, scrambling to a seated position. 

Joel shot the driver an annoyed glance. “Was that really necessary?”

The driver didn’t answer him. He retrieved a small slip of paper from his pocket and approached Father Clyde. “I’m going to need you to sign this…”

Joel turned back to the patient. He had expected…well, anything but this. You were a Ten? Your hoodie was pulled up to your chin protectively and the cuffs of the sleeves covered your hands up to your second knuckle, fingertips barely peeking out. It was dirt-streaked and the hem was caked with mud. 

Your face was twisted into a fearful expression, but that didn’t make it any less darling. You had a soft face, strawberry lips, and there was a tiny little v between your brows as they creased in worry. And your eyes. They were wide, watery, and doe-like. You were shaking like a leaf, the poor thing. 

Joel took a step closer and you flinched. He paused.

“Hey, darlin’,” he tried in a soft voice. The nickname rolled off his tongue mindlessly. His hands were held out before him, as if trying not to spook a frightened baby deer. “Why don’t you come on out?”

You still hesitated. 

“We’ll get you all cleaned up and something warm to eat,” he continued. “How’s that sound, sweetheart?”

Joel could see the conflict in your eyes. You were obviously suspicious of the kindness in his tone, yet it seemed as if you wanted to trust him. You just weren’t sure if you could.

Slowly you got to your feet and approached him as one would a bucking horse. Your bare feet made no sound on the bus floor as you stepped—your shoes must have gotten lost in the scuffle to get her into the bus in the first place.

Your eyes flicked up and down his person, finally coming to rest on his outstretched hand. You stared at it for a painstakingly long time.

Then you delicately slipped your hand into his, your palm soft against his callused one. 

[yudrein-aile]

I have reached ch 400 of turning. Kinda obsessed with the difference between the two timelines Kishiyu... Yudrain is like. Young! And doesn't understand politics that well. And there's so much baggage. And meanwhile Yuder is like. 30. He's constantly like "ah these young kids". There's still baggage but he is so much older and experienced and Kishiar responds to that differently than he did + different circumstances (like. Ch 400. Full info not yet revealed). Anyway I came to !!! Because idk who else to !!! At about this

Please !!! here any time, I love hearing your thoughts! sorry you're getting a whole god damn essay reply i had to put a read more.

Yuder is, and continues to be, incredibly harsh on his younger self, especially at the start, some of it is deserved - calling his younger self arrogant and quick to anger - but a lot of it, I think, is also just colored by how much was asked of him vs. how much he could do.

Yuder judges immediately in the first chapter that joining the Cavalry seemed "like a chance for dazzling success and thrilling adventures" as he had not "outgrown his boyishness". In the same paragraph he also judges that he didn't know anything about the intrigues and politics he'd find himself in, "that everything comes with a price, and that he was not well-suited for such pursuits".

In chapter 3 he straight up calls his twenty-year-old self "a poor country bumpkin with a gloomy expression".

So like, the impression we get of twenty-year-old Yuder, to me, is that of a 20 year old kid, who's not really socialized because his grandfather died seven years ago and he's been on his own ever since, and thinks that maybe getting to meet others like him, measuring his powers against them, would be fun.

Generally spekaing, the vibes I got from Yuder is that if he could, he would've done nothing but train all day. He's not interested in leadership, but then he's made Cavalry Commander. In chapter 2, he points out this rise in status himself:

"The previous Yuder had held a great deal of power and influence as the Cavalry commander of the Empire, but now he was nothing more than a young newcomer from the countryside. Who would actually listen to someone like that?"

Think back on the literary lessons - most Cavalry members couldn't even read or write when they joined the Cavalry. Yuder could read, but not really write well. Imagine that, he's twenty, he just learned how to write properly, Kishiar manages to mcfuck himself up during the Red Stone Retrieval Mission and decides "yes, that one will be my successor".

Like to Yuder, even ten years later, it seemed like Kishiar pretty quickly and decisively decided to make Yuder his successor.

Why did Kishiar La Orr pass the position of leader to Yuder at that time? And without any hesitation, as if it had been planned from the beginning.

And it's mentioned at times - a lot more later when Yuder knows what's up - we learn also that Yuder received proper lessons from Kishiar (and Nathan) and probably a whole bunch of other people to prep him for his work as Commander. Because Yuder does do well. The Cavalry is thriving, outpacing every other organization withing years. Sure, he's an interpersonal nightmare, but he did also pay for like parties if it was requested or so. And again, he went from semi literate commoner to Count and, argueably, one of the Emperor's most trusted men. That's insane.

And now in the second timeline, Yuder takes that knowledge with him. He knows what to expect, what he learned by trial and error. Just think about the second gender manifestations that go well. Heck, his own, I'd argue, is his turning (ha) point. The first 150ish chapters really do feel like Yuder's only in survival mode, but after his own second gender manifestation, the thing that IMO definitely fucked up his and Kishiar's relationship in the first timeline (mutual non-con my beloved trope <3), it's like an awakening (sorry full of bad puns today).

And for their relationship in the 2nd timeline!! Kishiar and Nathan both pick up that Yuder's more skilled than he should be. In chapter 17 we have this exchange:

"Nathan." "Yes." After Yuder left, Kishiar, staring at the chilled teacup on the opposite side, opened his mouth. Kishiar's cup was empty, but the one on the other side remained untouched, just as it had been from the start. "What do you think of that guy?" It was an unusual question. Nathan pondered for a moment before answering. "If I hadn't heard of his background beforehand, I would never have guessed he was a commoner." He was unmistakably a commoner, an orphan, barely twenty, yet he did not falter in front of Nathan, let alone in front of the noble duke who was as esteemed as the heavens.

And in chapter 59 we got:

Ever since first meeting him, Nathan Zuckerman had been continually investigating Yuder Aile's background. But just as his lord had predicted, there was nothing to find. His past was impeccably clean.

People regularly are in genuine awe of Kishiar because of the whole sun god thing, and I'd say in the first timeline, while also annoyed with Kishiar, to a degree did treat him according to station before he was made Commander and was even more annoyed with Kishiar.

And now here comes second timeline Yuder who had like. meals with the Emperor and knows Kishiar, to a degree at least.

And Kishiar very much picks up on this. He's got a prodigy on his hands who's not afraid to say what he means - not because of arrogance, but because he's straightfroward and correct. He's fascinated with Yuder to the point of propositioning him to figure out what he's on. (rip to Nathan hope you never learn of this).

Like, man if I have to put it into words, I think 2nd TL Kishiar falls in love because he's fascinated and interested by Yuder and wants to know him wholeheartedly, while for Yuder it hmm feels a lot more like hmm devotion/dedication to an ideal? Which makes Kishiar's genuine joy when he learns a small thing about Yuder a delight to read and vice versa when Yuder realizses why Kishiar acts in a certain way.

Like in 199 we got Kishiar saying , "I was merely asking out of curiosity. Isn't it a natural human tendency to want to know more about a subject of interest?"

(Also love how in 200 Yuder is like "Kishiar is so smart and skilled it's only a question of time until he manages to seduce me" babygirl what the FUCK is that thought process. can't you just say he's hot and charming and you both have a competency kink)

uuh. i think i lost the plot a little replying to your ask but like. yes. i love how the different circumstances shape their experience and attraction to each other,

[lunarmoonanons]

The Small Dragon: Daemon’s Dream

🌕 🌖 🌗 🌘 🌑 🌒 🌓 🌔 🌕

Masterlist

Daemon was a strapping young lad of ten and seven. Having claimed dragon, won the respect of his house and family, and love of his grandfather. Now all he wanted was one thing. One thing that he’s wanted since he was a child.

Princess YN.

His aunt who was three years his younger. King Jaehaerys’ favorite daughter. His beloved YN. His playmate. His everything. He wanted to marry her and have her all to his own. She was ten and four years now. The age when she would be betrothed to someone respectable. And that person was going to be him. He just had to ask her first so she could convince her father to let her get married. As the old king had said often that he would rather his youngest daughter stay with him for the rest of her life.

That was his mission now. It was like the walls flowed together and the ground was swift beneath his feet. Everything felt like a dream. His hands were clammy but he felt confident. Everyone assumed they’d be together. His father, her siblings, the lords and ladies, everyone. He was sure that this is what YN wanted as well.

He didn’t remember how he got there, but he found himself in the gardens. In front of YN’s favorite flowers, looking at her as she admired them. Her long silver gold hair fell about her back and shoulders. He clenched and unclenched his hands, feeling the words lodged in his throat.

“YN…” He called out. Making her turn around and smile at him.

“Daemon. I was just thinking about you,” She smiled and held out a rose to him. “Look the white ones have bloomed just in time for my name day.”

“They’re just as beautiful as you.” He tried charming her. But as usual when he charmed her it went above her head and she never caught on that he was trying to flirt with her.

“I love the garden this time of year. It’s so warm and everything is bloomed so nicely,” She smiled and caressed the flower in her hand. Looking down at it instead of him.

The air was soft and everything looked just as soft. It was like the light was shining only on her and framing her in its light like a tale that the septa would tell.

“YN. I need to tell you something. And ask you something. Something important,” Daemon said. Looking at her, feeling all the more nervous when she looked up at him.

“What is it?” She asked.

“I love you, YN. I’ve loved you more than anyone’s ever loved you. I always have.” Daemon proclaimed and then got on one knee. “I want to marry you. I’m of age now. You’re of age. I want us to be joined before the gods together as husband and wife. I know you can convince your father that we could be together.”

YN did not smile like he was smiling. Her brows were furrowed and she pulled her delicate hand from his. Dropping her flower.

“Oh Daemon… I don’t love you like that.” Daemon felt his heart plunge to his feet. “I’ve always cared for you. But I don’t love you. Not in the way you want me to.”

“YN I want to marry you.”

“But I don’t want to marry you Daemon. I’ve never thought of marrying you,” YN stepped away from him. “Goodbye Daemon.”

“YN! YN wait!” He called out and stood but his feet were stuck to the ground. He could not move, he couldn’t go after her. He could only watch as she walked away.

~~~~

Daemon shot up from his bed. A boy of eleven having a bad dream was common. But Daemon never had such a dream as this one before. He looked around his room then at his hands. Small. He was still a child.

Daemon wiped his sweaty brow and laid back on the bed. Trying to calm himself from his own thoughts. Musing to himself that it was just a dream. He looked at the table beside his bed, focusing on the dragon doll that YN had given him for his name day. How he cherished it.

Daemon resolved to himself as he reached for that little carved doll. He vowed he would marry her. No matter what she or anyone said. Only the king could stop him. And even then he would find a way around that.

“I love you, YN,” He whispered into the dark.