#how did you know he was a coddled only child before nature

[webshooterrr9]

Take Care

Act Two Astarion x gn!reader

just fluff and angst if you squint, no smut

Sigh. "You don't have to do this, darling. I'm not some sort of child in need of coddling."

Despite his standoffish tone, Astarion makes no attempt to move away as you tend to the cuts on his arm. It had been a long day of adventuring, and your party most unfortunately ran into a horde of goblins on your way back to camp for the knight. Being stronger after a recent feed, Astarion fought most of them - giving him the most injuries.

You're being far too gentle. He watches closely in the dim lantern light as you wet the rag for cleaning. A part of him wishes you'd just hurt him instead. He knows how to deal with pain. He doesn't know how to deal with this.

Whatever this is, his mind tells him it needs to stop. Stop before he starts to care. He doesn't want to care about you. If he does, you'll be another thing for Cazador to use against him when the time comes.

He can't have that.

"Oh, shut up." you wave a dismissive hand before resuming your cleaning, gently wiping away the dirt and grime from his wounds. You sat comfortably in his lap as you worked. Another form of intimacy he was unsure about.

"I've received worse and lived, love. I'll be alright without your babying."

He would never admit it, but Astarion almost... enjoyed the way you so carefully tended to him. But it felt wrong. Why would you do this? It wasn't like his life was on the line, the goblins only inflicted minor injuries.

"I know you have, I've seen the poem that... he carved into your back. You showed me, remember?"

Astarion winces at the memory, and you feel sort of bad for bringing it up. But he just rolls his eyes, covering up the discomfort with a scoff.

That wretched devil. That evil, evil man.

"We're still travel companions, so I want to help you. Regardless of how minor it is." you continue, speaking slowly as you bandage up the cuts.

"Because I'm incapable?" there's a bite to his voice, one that he didn't mean to be there. But he couldn't help it. This was so... odd. "I managed to take care of myself just fine before you came along."

You look up at him, almost with a glare at his accusation. "I never said you were incapable, 'Starion. But you have to let others help you once in a while."

Gods, he hated it. He hated how caring you were, how sweetly you spoke to him, even when he was rude. How fondly you pictured him in your mind, even when he had done nothing but manipulate you so far.

How could you he so naive? He was obviously using you. And yet, you seemed to care about him, which pissed him off more.

He doesn't deserve someone as tender as you. As kind and caring.

Astarions grits his teeth as he speaks. "I don't have to let you do anything. I don't deserve that."

Why did he say that? How stupid of him so seem so vulnerable around you. And why does he want to curl up against you and let it all out? Why does he want you to wrap him up in your arms and whisper into his hair and tell him everything is going to be okay?

What is wrong with him?

You wrap up his cut tightly, giving him a glare. "You're wrong." you replied, short and direct. Your stare made it clear that this wasn't up for debate.

"You deserve just as much as everyone else. If not more, given what you've been through."

Astarion glares right back. If there was one thing he could do, it was argue. "You know nothing about me. I barely even told you half of it."

You don't know why he has to be so stubborn about this. Maybe it's his nature. Or maybe he's just too much of a coward to admit that he's actually starting to develop feelings for you. Astarion doesn't know which.

"I'm objectively the worst person on this team. You should be helping the others. Lae'zel got all scratched up too, you know."

"They've got each other." you argue back, just as stubborn as the elf. "But you, you've closed yourself off from everyone. Shut them out."

"If I don't take care of you, no one will. The Hells know that you wouldn't take care of yourself, either. You're too self-loathing for that."

When the hell did you become so perceptive? How in the world did you come to that conclusion? He wasn't self hating, he was just telling the truth. He was awful, evil. He knew it to be true.

...

Shit. Maybe you were right.

"Fine. Maybe your words have some truth in them." he sighs, not daring to look you in the eyes as he admits it. "You're right. Is that what you wanted to hear?"

Damn it. Now he wants to hug you. The feeling he's been trying to avoid the entire time is bubbling up, threatening to engulf him.

Does it make him weak to want to be coddled and comforted by you? Would it make him just as pathetic as he was under Cazador's thumb? Would allowing himself this pampering, this affection, be nothing more than something to regret?

"I'm always right." you scoff. "You'd have picked up on that by now if you weren't so aloof."

You slide off of his lap once you're done bandaging, giving him some space. But you don't leave his tent.

You stay there, sitting in front of him, as a silent show of solidarity. "I'm not going anywhere. No matter how much you try to push me away."

The urge to pull you close and never let you go is overwhelming him. Astarion's not sure if he can trust himself to resist it.

"Why are you doing this?" he asks quietly, lowering his head a bit shamefully. "Why are you so insistent on helping me? I'm not worth it."

"Because you are worth it. And I won't stop until you believe it."

"I will not allow you to fall into tragedy when you can be so much more than that. I've seen your potential - on the battlefield and in camp. I refuse to let you waste your life in solitude."

Astarion wants to believe you. Desperately.

The evidence is staring him right in the face: the way that you care for him, how he feels secure in your presence.

But if he believes you, he can't hide any longer. He can't seek shelter behind the walls he's carefully erected within himself. And he can't shield himself from the vulnerability of admitting that he needs you. So instead he just says:

"Shut up."

You sigh. No matter how much you try to break him down, he stays persistent. "Fine."

"I'll stop talking, but you'd be a fool if you think I'm leaving."

He scoffs. "So what, you're just going to sit there and watch me all night?"

"If that's all you'll allow me, yes."

Allow. Such a sacred, unheard word to him.

Astarion didn't even have a response to that. In the end, he didn't have enough energy to make a snarky counter. And before he can form a coherent sentence and protest, his body makes a decision for him.

The elf slumps forward and places his head in your lap, curling up in a way that resembles a kitten. A stray seeking shelter.

Despite his efforts of stubborness, he closes his eyes and lets his body go slack.

He wants this.

You're relieved. For a moment, you sit still, not wanting to scare him away with any sudden movements. He needed this peace, and you wouldn't dare take it from him.

Slowly, you start to rake your fingers through his curls. Slowly, gently. Like a mother comforting her child.

He needs it. More than ever.

When you begin to run your fingers through his hair, it's like all his defenses dissolve away. Astarion lets out a quiet hum of contentment and presses his head further into your warmth, making himself as comfortable as possible in this precious moment.

Time seems to slow down as you sit there. There's no need for words. After so long of being taken and abused by his master, Astarion finds himself oddly calm. Safe.

It's strange to feel this comfortable. Even now he should have to urge to try and escape your touch, but he's not feeling those impulses.

He takes a deep breath and relaxes into your touch. The tension and discomfort that seemed to define his existence is melting away. For the first time in centuries, he feels he's where he belongs.

As you continue to pet his hair, you hear a quiet whisper come from your companion.

"Thank you."

[sayafics]

Dance of Shadows - Chapter III

Sorry for the long wait, but I do hope you enjoy this chapter! I haven't had time to proof-read but pelase let me know if I made any errors.

Love you guys <33 ENJOY!!

Next Chapter

Previous Chapter

Masterlist

Saenyra Targaryen was the youngest daughter of King Viserys I and Queen Consort, Lady Aemma Arryn.

The girl was only a year younger than her sister, Rhaenyra Targaryen, and she had grown up in her shadow. With no male heir, aside from the Rogue Prince - who was repeatedly banished from the kingdom before finding a fleeting excuse to return - Rhaenyra was seen as the heir of Viserys.

With such recognition came the adoration of both the people of the Seven Kingdoms and their father.

Such notions were not extended to Saenyra, a child who was truly defined by her sex. She was to be traded off as a brooding mare when her father deemed it time. That was what the Lord Hand had told her.

Otto Hightower was a shrewd man, able to recognise even the smallest of cracks which he could weather and weaken. He had found one in Saenyra - a tiny crevice that grew into a gaping wound as her mother gasped her last breath. A crack in her heart and a tear in her soul that reeked of agony and desolation as her sister sought comfort in Ser Cole, and her father in the unwilling arms of Alicent Targaryen.

Saenyra was a disaster, a wavering opportunity Otto Hightower couldn't allow himself to pass.

***

Saenyra would find herself bumping into the man when she walked to the library, in hopes of finding a book invigorating enough to distract her from her fumbling thoughts. He would tag along, share encouraging words and place a comforting hand upon her shoulder.

Otto was not blind to the lack of parental love she was offered, and though she was a beautiful sight, he knew that becoming the figure that she was missing in her life was the best way to assure she played to his tunes.

Saenyra was not much taller than her older sister. Her hair flowed down her back in tempered curls and brushed across her thighs, her eyes were a violent hue of purple, and her smiles were shy. She did not have Rhaenyra's fierce nature, nor her confident persona - Rhaenyra knew the power she held in her beauty, and she knew how to use it to her advantage.

Saenyra was ignorant to her charms, rarely leaving her room since she had no dragon to tend. Her dragon had not hatched when it had been placed in her cradle, and being a Princess meant she was confined to the Red Keep without a dragon to help her escape.

She could see how her father and uncle looked at her sister in admiration, how her mother coddled and gushed over her when she performed tricks with Syrax. It caused her heart to ache, knowing that she would never be looked at with such adoration, with such love and care.

It was a realisation she had been burdened with for so long. A realisation she had begun to hope was false after her mother's death.

As her relationship with her father crumbled to dust, she built a tentative friendship with Otto Hightower - oblivious to the Hand's ulterior motives.

***

The day her mother had passed, Saenyra had been by her side, leaving the tourney when her father had leapt from his chair. She held those moments close to her heart.

In those last few moments, she was able to breathe in her mother's comforting scent, hear the sound of her voice, and feel her reassuring touches.

It had all happened so fast, pain turned to agony, and calm turned to dread. Aemma was terrified, a heartaching sensation of horror clogging her throat and muffling her ears at the sensations wreaking havoc in her body.

And all Saenyra could do was watch.

She hadn't let the maids or the nurses push her from the room, had ignored her father's pained pleas and the Maester's sharp orders. She had stood in the shadows of a room that no longer held light, of a room drained of its brightness as her mother fought to continue breathing.

And with her mother's last breath, an anguished cry escaped her as she stumbled towards her mother's cooling body, babbling like the child she had been for such a short time only for them to hold her at bay.

Saenyra had lost herself so quickly, trapped in the confines of her mind - a passive face and a clouded mind.

Whilst her father lost himself in his disease and the role of a King without his other half, Daemon threw himself into the arms of his whores and Rhaenyra into the grasp of her fantasies that she believed to be just out of reach.

***

Saenyra had found herself wandering through the Keep, searching for echoes of her mother's presence within the cracks and crevices hidden within the walls and frames around her.

Her mind felt numb, but her heart ached under the heavy weight of grief. Her eyes were dry - there were simply no more tears to weep. But her hands would still tremble, her lips quiver, if she thought about her mother's passing for a moment too long.

It seemed buried in the whispers of her mind, she had not realised the twists and turns she had taken. She now found herself in front of the doors where her father held his Council meetings.

The corridor was empty, knights nowhere to be seen. And the door was cracked open, as though it had been left so purposefully.

Curiosity was now a foreign feeling admist the mournful sorrow that twitched within her, a stark reminder of the loss she had faced only days ago. It was the whisper of something, of a name which had her inching forward despite her damning thoughts and sinking heart.

Daemon.

Otto had said Daemon's name.

"He toasted to Prince Baelon," his voice sounded grave, his words slow and enunciated. "To the King's son."

Saenyra felt her eyes burn at those words, Baelon had been her mother's son too. Aemma had gone through the hardship of being with a child, of labour and of birth. She had suffered and died from it.

Baelon was her mother's child first. Not Viserys'.

"Styling him..." Otto was purposefully hesitant, as though he was trying to build up the gravity of what he had heard from his spies, "The Heir for a Day."

Saenyra felt her stomach drop at those words, eyes clouding with anger and heart filling with resentment. Her mother had died - had died a brutal and violent death.

How could Daemon disrespect her sacrifice like this? How could he spit upon her mother's strength and her mother's heart?

She could not listen for another moment, ears burning with fury as she stepped away from the unguarded doors. Unbeknownst to her, Otto Hightower's patient eyes followed her raging form as she made her way out of the Keep.

***

Saenyra had never left the Keep much, without a dragon she didn't have much reason to. But she would still lounge under the pretty trees and amongst the fragrant bushes, reading a history book or drawing her surroundings.

She had not found much joy in that after her mother's passing. Every colour she saw resembled her mother's eyes a shade too much.

Now, walking into the Silk Street, far too angry to notice the stares of incredulity or scandalous whispers which began to spread around her, she marched in a furious flurry towards a brothel guarded by knights she recognised all too well.

The guards hesitated, inching forward minutely to hold the Princess back. But her eyes were blazing with a roaring fury, and they were terrified to face her wrath.

Saenyra had been the quiet sister, the tame Princess.

The girl marching past them into the filth of the brothel was not the girl the people of the Keep knew her to be. She was a hue of tumultuous flames, she was bright and she was set alight by fury.

Saenyra stumbled in her steps for a moment. Although she knew of the acts that took place in a brothel, she had not expected to see nude bodies scattered across the building, and she most definitely didn't expect the sounds.

Heat flared to her cheeks, the tips of her ears flushing pink as she looked around her with wide eyes. She felt a warmth settle in the pit of her stomach, a shiver pulsating down her spine as she shifted uncomfortably upon her legs.

Her mind, which had been riddled with fury, came to a halt. Embarassment bubbled in her throat as she looked sheepishly around the brothel, cringed at the moans and pleas she heard from nude workers, shied away from curious folk.

It all came to a head when she heard the sound of a drunk and confused man, "Princess?"

She spun on her feet, suddenly feeling so out of place and having forgotten all her anger at the sight of a place so foreign to her.

She almost sighed in relief at the sight of her uncle, even walked towards him with hesitant steps as though her mind had already erased his horrible words.

It was when a dark-haired woman, tall and slender, tan and devilishly beautiful, came to stabd at his side, that Saenyra took a step back.

She took in Daemon's state, how his shirt had been thrown on as though he was in a rush, how his buttons were broken and his chest lay bare, she saw how his pants hung low on his hips and she could see the sliver of skin that guided her eyes down lower.

She forced herself to meet Daemon's eyes, feigning ignorance at his amused stare.

The woman he was with came to his side, stood in front of him almost protectively. She placed a hand upon his bare chest, petting him as though he was a tamed pet. She barely looked at Saenyra as she spoke, "it is dangerous for a princess to be here at all, let alone so late in the day. I will see to it that you are escorted back to your castle by a knight."

Saenyra's eye twitched in irritation, who did this woman think she was? To order around the knights who only listened to the royal family?

Then she glanced at Daemon, who had not so much as moved, let alone remove her wandering fingers. Was this the result of Daemon's influence? Did his loyalty to this woman tie his Gold Cloaks to her?

She felt her gut roil with nausea, and her anger washed over her with a renewed vigour.

"You sicken me."

It was a wrathful and seething whisper. But it had its intended effect - Daemon's eyes widened at the insult before he clenched his jaw to reign himself in.

The dark-haired woman only sighed, "Princess, I mus-"

"You must remain quiet when the Princess is talking. For I will happily ask for your tongue if you continue," Mysaria looked at the girl in shock. From all the times Daemon had spoken about her, about her naivety and her calm, about wanting to keep her safe and untainted - this was not the girl he knew, not the girl he praised.

Worry clenched at her heart at the thought that somehow this was still exactly what Daemon needed.

"Now, I ask that you leave us to our discussion."

Saenyra did not wait for her to reply, she simply watched her uncle intently. Daemon nodded, and Mysaria walked away hesitantly.

"This is not a place for a princess like you."

"This is not a place for a prince either, especially one who is wedded. And yet, here we are."

"You should not be here, Saenyra," his voice deepened, as his face became stern. He stepped towards her, looking down his nose in disappointment, "you do not know what the people will speak."

"And yet I do. After all, that is why I am here. You could not even keep your mouth shut long enough to save yourseld from Father's wrath. But before you meet his, you shall meet mine," she glared at him, unflinchingly.

"And what is it that I have done to offend you so gravely, hm? Did I not wish you a good night? Did I not buy you a ring extravagant enough for your liking? Did I not praise your beauty like I did your sister's? Did I not fuck you, like I know-"

"Shut up."

They stared at each other for a moment, and Daemon's gaze faltered under her hurt expression. He was not blind. He had always noticed her infatuation in him, and as his own began to build, he knew he was doing an equally horrible job at hiding it, too.

"You have insulted the memory of my brother. Of my mother. She has not been returned to the Seven for more than a few days, and yet here you are - spitting upon her memories with your hurtful words."

"I have done no such thing," despite all the conviction in his voice, Saenyra could not scrub out the image of the brothel worker pressed up against Daemon, despite the vows he made to the Lady of Runestone, from her mind. Daemon was a liar.

Daemon is a liar.

And Otto Hightower would not lie about such treasonous acts like this.

He would not risk his position as Hand.

"'Heir for a Day'. Does that not ring any bells, Uncle?"

Daemon's face fell, his expression becoming stoic as Saenyra let a crack of laughter escape her - pained and weak.

"I have heard the whispers of your mocking tones against my late mother and late brother. Do you have no care of your words?"

"My words are simple truths. Everyone grieves in different ways, you have no right to judge mine."

"No right? Your words have caused harm to that of my family, of my father and my sister. We have lost a mother and a brother, Father has lost a wife and a child. And yet, here you sit amongst your whores claiming to be grieving."

"And what would you have me do?"

Her eyes were pleading as she looked into his own, welling up as she sweltered with the very emotions she had spent days hiding from.

"Anything but this."

"Leave, Saenyra. A princess should not be found in a place such as this," he repeated.

"Do you truly have no care of what you have said? What you have done?" She looked at him with incredulity painted across her face. Was he truly unable to see the consequences of his own words?

"And why should I?"

"Because he will send you away. You have crossed a line, and he will punish you for it with another exile. And perhaps this is one you will not be welcomed back from."

Daemon scoffs, rolling his eyes as he turns away from the tearful girl. Saenyra only bristles in anger.

"Does that satisfy you Uncle? To know your vile words have sent you away from King's Landing? Have sealed your fate away from the kingdom?" Away from me.

"Answer me, Uncle."

Rage bubbled up his throat, flashed through his eyes and he leapt towards Saenyra, hand wrapping around her throat as he tugged her closer.

This was the truest form of the beast that lurked under Daemon's skin, the truth of his horrors and violence.

She looked up at him, eyes pooled with unshed tears and yet not an ounce of fear could be seen. They gleamed with grief, for her mother, for her brother and for something more.

"Do not call me that," he seethed, "do not call me Uncle"

He fretted over her, wiping dripping tears as his voice hushed, almost on the edge of desperation - "call me Daemon. Say it. Say my name, call me. Call for me, call to me."

His fervor whispers sang in her ears, echoing through her body.

She wanted to speak his name, wanted to call to him. But her mind thought of his words - Heir for a Day.

"We are nothing more than that," her voice shook with a despaired whisper, "we are uncle and niece. There is nothing more, and so no reason for me to call to you Uncle. For I know you would never come."

He would not understand the gravity of his words, and surrounded by his whores and desperate men she found her need for his understanding dwindling as the seconds pass.

Her hands came to pry away his own, softly encasing his hands in the palms of her own.

Saenyralooked into Daemon's eyes one last time, sharing a sad smile as she stepped back.

She left through the same door she came, asking the closest knight to escort her back to the Keep and threatening to have his head if he spoke a word of her misadventures today.

Back in the brothel, Daemon was a seething beast. He ravaged through the brothel, screaming and breaking.

Before he fell into Mysaria's arms that night, he threatened every man, woman and child with a long and painful death should they speak a word of his princess.

Saenyra may hate him, but Daemon does not think he could feel anything less than love.

***

Since her mother had passed, Saenyra simply existed, quiet and quaint - her presence was overlooked, an ever-present shadow paid no mind by anyone of Council or greater.

Nor her father or sister batted an eye, and with her uncle banished, neither could he.

After Daemon had been sent away from King's Landing, Otto could feel the tension building between himself and the King. He could feel the power slipping from his fingers as Daemon's parting words of calling Otto a 'cunt', of insinuating he was a dishonourable man were echoing in Viserys' head like the guttural growl of a dragon on the hunt.

Otto needed a way to cast balance, to seize power. And then he found it.

Princess Saenyra had confined herself within her chambers, content to rot away in the comfort of her bed much like her mother had. Her mind replayed Aemma's last moments like an endless recital. She couldn't escape her mother's cries nor her pale, cold body.

Saenyra didn't have the courage to appear for her mother's funeral, appearances be damned. Nor did she have the courage to face her father and sister.

She missed countless dinners, numerous banquets, ignored several calls, and avoided countless people. She would only stray from her room to visit the library, and it was only one coincidental collision with the timid and frail girl that had seeded a plan into Otto's mind for something great and good.

***

Otto Hightower is a shrewd man, there were many ways he could play the situation at hand. But he had chosen to simply sit and wait, strongly assured all the pieces would fall into place.

His meetings with the youngest princess soon became intentional, brushing past her on his way out of the library or allowing her to stumble into him as she took short walks through the garden, trying to gather herself from her spiralling thoughts.

It had not taken long for her to take part in tentative conversations, and soon it cane to be that the little princess would seek out his presence.

It was hard to play ignorance at her blatant need for attention, to pretend to be blind to how she craved a listening ear and a praising voice. Now that her mother had passed and her father had become reclusive, Saenyra truly had no one at her side to offer the love she so headily desired.

And a spark ignited within her as she began to receive it from Otto. His dark ambitions for the throne were hidden behind a guise of paternal love, seeping its way through questions of Saenyra's lessons with the Septa, discussions on the history of King's Landing and the Targaryen ancestry.

Although he tried his best not to, a small ache of fondness bubbled deep in Otto's heart at her endless rambles and the excitement that twinkled in her eyes as she spouted off questions and spoke of anything which held her intrigue.

There was a childish glimmer in the way the princess held herself, full of grace and politeness but an endless bundle of joy and energy too. It was something so akin to what radiated from his late wife that, as much as he would deny it, the lines between his ambition and his care began to blur.

There was a festering guilt, of course. That he was showing a love to this girl, when he was forcing his own child to do unspeakable things for the power he craved and giving the love she deserved to another was a heavy weight upon his shoulders. But he bore it with eagerness, accepted it with duty and sacrifice.

Otto Hightower would do what he must, in order to have his blood sit upon the throne.

Taglist: @marihoneywk @ahristata @gracielikegrapes @luanasrta @pet1t3 @serving-targaryen-realness @tojigirl @do-it-for-kicks @aprosiacperson @moongirl27

[colourstreakgryffin]

Can we get Muichiro with a over the top energetic dramatic female partner who 'breaks up' with him for forgetting their third anniversary (but they do this so much he's unphased) and he just cuddles her and pampers and dotes on (and explains how this is their fourth 'break up' this week) her with attention while she dramatically proclaims the end of their relationship (while leaning into the coddling) please I just think this would be so cute with his montone nature please and thank you

Oooh! Another Muichiro scenario too! Wonderful! All for it! Kinda really short, so hope you don’t mind

Tokito Muichiro- Fifth Breakup

You cried hysterically, averting your eyes as your sadness and pain flooded out. Sat before you, your irritating boyfriend, Muichiro, just smiled and rolled his eyes at you. “You forget our anniversary for the third time! This is it! We’re done!”

You hiss insulted, turning away with a angered hmph as Muichiro was completely unbothered by your problem since he knew it was truly nonsense. “Yeah. We’re done, this is the fourth ‘breakup’ this week” Muichiro remarks calmly, his arms crossed over as he was perched up on the kitchen counter, silently listening to your concerns

You pouted madly and stomped your foot like a tantrum-throwing child, you hated that Muichiro never took you seriously. This was truly the only way to make him understand you? He never did! But you loved him so much! Doesn’t he know that?

Should you really leave him? Well, he can’t make himself remember the very important date of your anniversary! It clearly shows that he doesn’t love you in the same way you love him. You hiss, tilting your head up and keeping your arms crossed as Muichiro eventually stood up, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer

You were so mad and upset at him; you wanted to walk away, curl up into a ball and cry your eyes out. Muichiro smoothly rolled out a playful noise from that attractive deep voice, pressing his chin on your shoulder. “Yes, yes, you’re very upset at me. I understand, I am very sorry” You tried to refuse his soft, warm touch but you were failing very badly since you found your sorrow and distress disappearing

“No! No! This is different! We’re totally done!” You snark back offended and saddened as you intentionally lean into the cuddle and affection your supposed ex-boyfriend was giving to you, simply loving the way he kisses your cheek with the way his cheek laid comfortably on the meat of the nape of your neck

He wasn’t trying to manipulate your feelings and lure you back in, he was just trying to show you that you’re overreaction is unneeded. He wanted you to see his point of view; he is busy all the time and his brain is full of duty so he may forget about a lot of stuff but he won’t forget about his passionate love for you

“What can I do to make you forgive me, my love?”

[caihongs]

in light of yoint! here's an almost-yukiel/danyuki drabble i started last year that i didn't finish :'] i have Thoughts on dr now since writing this but i thought i'd share most of this yuki POV anyway <3

Yuki doesn’t mean to be such a catch. By this, he means that he doesn’t mean to allure his colleagues. Him coming into Formula 1 at twenty, bright-eyed and loudmouthed and sassy, is not uncommon. What is common is that his teammates have all been well, old and attracted to that sort of thing. 

Him and Pierre shared the smallest age gap of four years and yet, he still treated him like he was a child, pinching and poking him like he was ecstatic to have someone to coddle over for the first time. It was endearing, framed most of their dynamic, but didn’t make sense might given his girlfriend was even younger than Yuki, but he digresses.

Nyck was five years older than him, which didn’t change their relationship that much more than what a lack of shared interests and lifestyle already did with him and Pierre. Nyck definitely didn’t baby him as much as Pierre did but they never had the time to properly learn each other properly before he was sacked. 

In comes Daniel Ricciardo, who precedes Yuki by more than a decade. When Daniel was just about to hit high school, Yuki was learning how to walk, which is more shocking for the Australian to learn than it is Yuki. He will be working with the elderly more often than Daniel will be working with young adults in the span of their careers. And with how the sport is proceeding, him, Oscar, and Logan might be the last of the generation.

Again, he digresses.

Daniel is funny. Nice smile with big teeth and a laugh that you can hear even when he’s left the room. It’s nice to be surrounded by that kind of positivity and energy. They’re only two races in but he’s a welcome addition to the team. For one, there isn’t a perpetual dark cloud around his motorhome after free practices or qualifying or races just yet, but the debriefs are valuable and productive with him around, given his intimate knowledge of not only the sport but compounded by how much the team trusts him. Less could be said for Nyck, who’d lost rapport around about Azerbaijan and even then, it was already dwindling. He makes Yuki laugh and though he’s much less impressionable than he was when he first started, he still likes Daniel.

But Daniel definitely likes him more. 

Maybe it’s the change of scenery. Getting back into a car after six months, not having a teammate who will out-qualify him consistently, or just having at team who loves you a lot, who you spent some of your most formative years at. Anywho, he’s happy to see Yuki in the morning, espresso cup in hand as he fist bumps him and asks him how he slept. The newness yet familiarity of it all gives Daniel a natural shot of happiness in the morning and makes him nudge at Yuki when they’re sitting on a golf buggy next to each other, asking him if he knows any good restaurants in Faenza he can recommend. 

Or maybe it’s just Yuki’s overflowing charm. He isn’t as comfortable with Daniel as he was with Pierre, could hardly be when that friendship was something they forged over time, and his seat is at constant threat of being pulled out from under him. He knows how quickly they can and will do it, knows how quickly his seat would be filled up again by some wide-eyed, naive junior or a washed-up F1 driver whom Alpha Tauri would put cautious faith into. 

But Daniel is nothing but persistent. Not only in his career but in wheedling Yuki to give him his time of day. He’s got experience with that sort of thing, successfully wrestling Lando into doe-eyed submission by the end of his tenure at McLaren. But Yuki is not so easy to get to. 

If he spends five years at Alpha Tauri like Pierre did, cycling through teammates like Pierre did, he’d be hard pressed to let Daniel in when all he will do is leave and take that Red Bull seat with him. 

“Yuki!” he bellows when Yuki walks into hospitality. He’s got a cup of coffee in his hand and his drink bottle in the other, Pyry hanging around him with his backpack on. Blake, Daniel’s manager, gives him a fist bump as well. Michael is somewhere around here, avoiding Daniel, which is pretty common nowadays. They’re not actively beefing but Yuki knows Michael would much rather walk all the way to Ferrari to say hi to Josh than give Daniel more than a ‘how’re you going mate?’. 

“Buongiorno,” Yuki says, picking up a piece of fruit and a protein bar. Daniel smiles and trails after him as he sits down on his table. Michael is in the room, is what Yuki learns when he gets a text from his trainer reading, ‘In your driver’s room YT’ before Yuki even needs to message him with a ‘wya m8’.

“How did you sleep?” 

“Good. No time difference, plus after sim work on Tuesday and working out with Michael on Wednesday, I am so exhausted,” Yuki replies through a mouthful of the protein bar, covering his mouth and Daniel nods in understanding.

“Yeah me too. The sim felt hopeful with the new front wing but won’t know until tomorrow. How did—what did you work on with Michael?” 

Yuki lifts an eyebrow.

“Just normal things, you know the neck and the gym. More stretching since I have been feeling tightness since last week. But you know, the usual.” Daniel nods again thoughtfully and Yuki wonders what he’s getting at.

“Right, right… what about summer break? Do you have any plans or… y’know something small or just like—” 

“What is this? A press conference?” Yuki quips and Daniel shrugs, looking imperceptibly at Yuki. 

“I’m just curious! Sue me for making conversation with my teammate,” he exclaims, blinking those huge brown eyes at him and Yuki surveys him suspiciously. 

“Well, I am going back to Japan to see my friends and family. But I will be in Italy or Europe for the last week, going to the beach and things like that.” 

“Cool, cool. Maybe I’ll catch you around in the last week. I’ll be in Monaco, then Faenza to catch up on some sim work.”

“Okay,” he replies nonchalantly. If he wanted to ask Yuki out, he could afford to be more forward about it. Maybe he’ll be spending time with Lando and Max, doing whatever it is drivers who live in Monaco do. Yuki would rather eat his way through Europe and spend time with his friends from home but to each their own. 

He wants to make plans with Alex or Pierre just to see if it’ll make Daniel jealous but suppresses the urge and finishes his protein bar.

“See you later for media, eh?” Yuki puts a hand out as he stands up and Daniel claps and holds it with a firm grip.

“See ya later Yukes.”

That’s a new one. He cracks a smile at his teammate before walking off to his room, where Michael has already started up Yuki’s training playlist. 

Here’s to beating his teammate before summer break. 

And so he does. Makes it to Q2 and qualifies P11 while Daniel hangs out the back in P19. It’s unfortunate but not so much that Yuki is sad for him. He will get all the encouragement he needs from the team before he’ll want it from Yuki. Imagine that, Yuki, eleven years his junior with three years in the sport, giving Daniel a pat on the back and a ‘you’ll get ‘em next time’. 

Daniel’s nice but not that kind. He’s got another ten to prove himself so Yuki is not worried about morale. What does get him nervous is that Daniel approaches him on Saturday night.

“Good session Yuki!” 

“Thanks man,” Yuki daps him up and Daniel squeezes him tight. He’s taller than Pierre and his head fits right in his shoulder. The sweat, grime and rain squelches uncomfortably but he appreciates the warmth and praise. 

Yuki’s whisked away by Michael and Jana before they can keep up the conversation but he’d rather do post-qualifying interviews than talk to Daniel about track limits. 

He guesses this is how it goes, this weird dance where bringing Alpha Tauri out of the bottom rank is their only shared goal. He will be civil and he will be open to whatever marketing makes them do, even if it’s Daniel caressing him on the arm apropos of nothing.

Maybe he can get a free meal out of Daniel some time soon, or a piece of Enchante merch for free. It’s way nicer than Pierre’s and Yuki would gladly swerve on the insane prices. He’s not sure he’d be able to break even if he sold his merch for the same.

It’s not a great quali session by any means, but it’s the best he’s had in a while and he takes it in stride for the sprint shoot-out, then the sprint, in which both don’t go his way at all, but it’s his turn to congratulate Daniel. It’s the little things, and he doesn’t miss the spark in his teammate’s eyes this time around despite the disappointing position overall. This is a dance and they take turns stepping on each others’ toes.

[dragonofdarknesschaos]

Hi there,

I have a question about Jack Spicer.

1- What was his life like before the Xiaolin Showdown?

2- What do his parents look like & their color scheme?

3- Did Jack have friends in his childhood past?

4- Is Jack good at playing a musical instrument?

5- How was Jack's relationship with his parents when he was a young child

6- Is Jack's hair naturally red or has he dyed it? Because I saw a lot of fan art and fan stories that say Jack dyed his hair red Is that true or not?

6- Was Jack's grandmother evil or was she just a genius Its inventor woman?

7- What are the things that Jack likes and what are the things that Jack does not like?

8- How Jack dresses when he's not taking over the world.

Like casual clothes Instead of a black trench coat.

9- What is Jack's level of intelligence and genius?

10- I want to know his back story & His life

11- How many people are in the Spicer family?

I know A little about Megan is Jack's little cousin

I'm going to do my best to answer these, but ultimately, there are no right or wrong answers, as canon doesn't provide any information.

We do not know what Jack's life was like before he released Wuya. Furthermore, some of the details in season one (e.g. the party that's going on in "Katnappe!" that Jack claims to hate) do not get carried over to season two and beyond (e.g. Jack seems to be alone in the entire estate at all times). Most headcanon that he is an only child, his father is able to work abroad and is wealthy, his mother is a socialite or trophy wife (possibly both) and both are too busy to give Jack the attention he desperately needs.

Nothing is known about Jack's dad. The only time he is mentioned is in episode one when a Jackbot delivers the puzzlebox containing Wuya's mask in it, saying, "A gift from your father in Hong Kong." Jack's mother is Caucasian or white-passing, extremely slender, and seems to embody the ideals of a 1950s American housewife from the two "appearances" she makes as an arm and legs. The only major detail is her square, red manicured nails.

Jack never makes any mention of friends, or to his "past," unless it's about himself. ...I'm starting to think he's neuro-divergent.

This is unknown. His voice actor in Xiaolin Showdown, Danny Cooksy, was part of a band called Bad 4 Good, so Jack can at least sing. One's own voice can count as an instrument. Jack goes on to rap in Chronicles. Outside of that, there is no further information in canon.

Showdown alludes to Jack having a coddling relationship with his mother. She encourages Jack to do enriching activities, even if he doesn't want to do them. He acts out and breaks makes robots out of her things when he doesn't like what she forces him to do. Occasionally she will bake Jack cookies. Because Jack never mentions his father, he likely wasn't around for Jack's upbringing, but he is at least alive... probably. Jack may have estranged himself from his father for some reason. Chronicles revealed in the 21st episode that does not exist, a short flashback to Jack as a child. He was waiting for both of his parents to come home for Christmas with presents, but they couldn't make it home in time for whatever reason (work or they had an arbitrary excuse not to go home). This is all Chronicles gives us on Jack's past.

Only Hui knows if Jack dyes his hair or not. Because his brows are black, he at least does makeup on them, or dyes them separately.

There is no information about Jack's granny other than he mentions her often, and seems to have a close relationship with her; he likes her gifts. Off hand I can't remember what those gifts specifically were, but they were standard, "You might need this, so here," type of gifts.

This question is too broad, so I cannot answer it. He likes his evil idols and Evil ™️, and thus hates "good" by extension.

Jack can wear whatever he wants. The animators and production designers seemed to have fun with his costume changes (see "Sands of Time" episode).

Jack would need to have at least 140 IQ to be considered a genius. He never mentions being contacted by MENSA, so he's not a super genius (but he still invented a time machine, go figure). He also mentions in season two, when Wuya calls his genius status into question, Jack says, of course he's a genius, "Who else would be smart enough to cheat on an IQ test?"

I don't know how to answer this one. Just watch the show???

It is unknown how many people are in the Spicer family. Jack's immediate family consists of at least his mother, father, and likely a maternal grandmother. Cousin Megan would be from an aunt or uncle. Most likely Megan's parent is related to Mama Spicer, as she's dressed and styled in a way reminiscent of 1950s or 1960s children's fashion.

I hope that covers everything. Again, the questions you're asking don't have any actual answers in canon. Which is nice, because it leaves it open to interpretation for fan fiction purposes. But it can also be frustrating if one really wants to drill into what is concrete in canon.

[idyllic-affections]

hey I really liked your angle kisses with kaveh. can I request an angsty fic with kaveh where the reader has difficulty accepting affection cause they've never had it before and think it's mocking and condescending instead?

may my guard never drop, for should my heart be allowed to breathe, i fear i may cause you harm.

summary. vulnerability is difficult. trigger & content warnings. none applicable. tropes, pairings, fic length, & other notes. soft angst. kaveh x reader. 0.6k words. they/them pronouns for reader. author's thoughts. FIRST ANON LETS GO!!!! hi lovely, im so glad you liked angel kisses. i hope you'll like this one too <3 it is short, but it actually ended up being a little longer than i anticipated. on a different note, idk why but i title some of my works as if i was a brooding poet LMAO

       Kaveh was an affectionate man.

       Anyone who knew him could say such a thing with confidence; he was passionate about everything he did, and naturally, that included expressing his affection towards his loved ones. In fact, it seemed that he became even more impassioned when it came to that. Unlike most Akademiya graduates, Kaveh was driven largely by emotion rather than logic, and his emotions were very plentiful. That fact was no secret.

       As such, it would come as no surprise that the architect was fluent in virtually every love language.

       Was someone he cared for dreading doing a particular tedious chore? Oh, no worries—he'd already taken care of it before they could get too stressed over it; stress isn't good for the body nor the mind, after all. Did they want to go somewhere in particular? He would be glad to accompany them, especially if they felt unsafe going alone. Was a friend of his from the Akademiya feeling insecure about a rejected thesis? He'd sing their praises for hours on end, taking the opportunity to both support his friend and outwardly oppose the Sages and their close-minded interpretation of wisdom.

       Kaveh was a lover with a heart too big for his chest to contain, and to some, a fool.

       However, a fool wouldn't see the things he did. Yes, perhaps once in a while, he'd be blindsighted by his boundless ardor, but he was not blind to discomfort—he was not blind when it came to harming others. It was something he tried to avoid as much as he possibly could. He was not blind to the way [Name] would avoid his touches oh-so diligently, how the contact seemed to agitate them. He noticed. He saw. He was no fool. Still...

       He hated not being able to understand why. For a self-proclaimed empath, he was having a terribly difficult time figuring it out.

       "Do you not like when I touch you?"

       Archons above, he looked like a kicked puppy, scarlet eyes wide and expression borderline pouty. Expressive and passionate he certainly was. They grimaced, turning back to the fruit stall in front of them and picking out the sunsettias they deemed to be of the best quality. Firm fruit was generally of higher quality than soft fruit.

       "It's... not that, Kaveh."

       He wordlessly waited for them to continue, reaching out to squeeze their hand in what would have been a reassuring manner, only for them to draw their arm away from him.

       A pained look flashed briefly across his features.

       "...I just find it condescending. It's not you."

       "Why? Who made you feel that way?"

       "I don't know, okay?" A deep sigh left through their nose. "I know you don't mean it like that, but old habits die hard, I guess. It's like... It makes me feel like I'm being treated like a child who can't handle themselves, being coddled and pampered... I don't like it."

       Vulnerability was a difficult thing. To be truly, earnestly open and honest with someone... the thought alone made their throat tighten uncomfortably, stomach twisting at the simple thought. Many scholars did not openly embrace vulnerability, deeming it to be a "hinderance to the pursuit of wisdom"; they were hardly any different, only they encouraged it in others while refusing to embrace it themselves. However, hypocrisy was unbecoming of an intelligent person. They couldn't be bothered to care.

       The act of being vulnerable did not come to them easily.

       Responding with aggression, however, did. It had happened more than once with other people who were a bit too pushy. They knew very well that Kaveh didn't deserve that, though.

       "[Name]—"

       "Can we talk about this later?" they murmured, gnawing on the corner of their lip. "I'm not in a good enough place to talk about this right now. You're sensitive, Kaveh. I don't want to hurt you."

       Without waiting for a response, they quickly turned on their heel, the intention of fruit shopping being long forgotten as they darted towards one of the ways out of the Grand Bazaar.

       The architect only watched motionlessly in uncharacteristic silence as they left, the sting of rejection searing his skin.

please consider reblogging, it helps me out quite a lot!

[yonemurishiroku]

[Summer since the victory over Gaia. Percy is now 18. and he's an Biromantic asexuals. Percy did not spend the spring and summer before the Battle for Manhattan alone, and the speech is not about Rachel Dare now. date of birth of the baby 12.04.2011. she's three months old].

In the summer, Percy Jackson does not come to the camp alone, he tenderly holds a bundle with a tiny protruding white handle in his arms.

Elliette Chloria Jackson, — little girl of asian facial features and already thick shiny black hair, but her green eyes belong to Percy.

She is sweet and calm, she is simply adored by nymphs and satyrs.

the universal question is: How?

Percy shyly and gently with a subtle touch of sadness will tell about a summer affair with a visiting Japanese and about the blessing of Aphrodite.

Newborn Ellie literally appeared out of thin air on his bed a few months later after the guy's departure.

And everyone believes him.

Only…

Chiron looks at baby Ellie Chloe and her dad hard and sympathetically.

Dionysus does not grumble about the baby in the camp, he gently cradles Ellie Chloe in a hanging cradle on the porch of a large house and covers Percy who has fallen asleep in a rocking chair with a blanket.

Damian White, the One and Only Nemesis Child at All Camp Is Too Coddling with Ellie, The boy is literally ready to fight to once again hold in his arms or feed Ellie, according to him, "Damian feels a natural kindred affection for her."

But they don't need to know about the mystery of high roofs, nondescript alleys and sparsely populated places, about quiet affection, about one breath divided in a long kiss, about sad tenderness, about desperately tightly intertwined fingers, about warm embraces... just not why.

let Elliette Chloria remain in their eyes the fruit of an easy affair, let Ethan Nakamura remain in their eyes just a traitor who repented at the last moment.

...The rarepair is flourishing and I'm in tears please this is too beautiful

@m4gp13 This is for you pal

[b-lessings]

why is it that so many men in the muslim community just don't know how to be great husbands. Why have so many mothers failed in their duty to raise good responsible men. They have a soft cushioned life in their mothers homes and then they seek out marriage and intentionally or unconsciously want the wife to mother them. Why is it so difficult to feel like an equal. I feel like women are so good at multi tasking and managing a huge deal of responsibilities and it's so tough when you aren't met halfway. It feels like a burden and a heavier one with kids in the picture.

Why are the muslim men of today so inadequate at leading their families. At being strong loving muslim husbands.

It's just so heartbreaking feeling like you married your person but you can't bask in your feminine energy.

Listennnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn! I have talked about this a billion times with my girls!!! Aaaaaaaaaaaaah sis!!! Amen to everything you said!! Sadly, it is very very very true. But I'll break my answer into three points, and I'll start with the easiest one:

- The fact that women are so good with multitasking, yes we are, because we are the superior creation, the more developed one 😎. No but seriously, scientifically, our brains and their brains don't function the same way. I have read about this a lot before that unlike women, guys need to process things one step at a time, one thing at a time. Let's say for example you're asking your husband for a pair of socks. You'd get better results, more efficiency, if you tell him "go to my side of the closet, open the last drawer, you'll find my socks, grab me any pair" than saying "can you get me a pair of socks?", because in the second scenario he'll go into freeze mode and he will ask "where are they?" blah blah and they might as well be in front of his eyes but he won't "see" them. Whereas, as wives, we'd anticipate that he's gonna need a pair of socks and we'll get it ready before he even asks 🙃. Men's hearing skills are also not as sharp as ours tbh. Sometimes I feel like they exert selective hearing, only hearing the bare minimum, or like you need to really get their attention and make sure their eyes are alert and on you before you ask them something, smh. (Well, because most of their brain is used to figure out how to provide and how to protect blah blah blah .. oh well, that's IF THEY WERE PROVIDING AND PROTECTING tsk tsk).

Lmao, listen sis, I don't want to sound like I am frustrated with our fellow humans, there are really some decent men out there, doing their absolute best to provide for their families, may Allah swt bless them and reward them with Jannah, ameen. I just wanted to clear out the physiological or natural differences outta the way because that's just how Allah made them, and it has nothing to do with culture or upbringing. Which leads me to your first point.

- It's not about Muslim men, it's about some certain cultures rather than religion. If you are seeing this trait in Desi men or Arab men or North African men, Islam is only relevant in a way that they did not have good Islamic teaching or guidelines on how to treat their wives and how to detach from their moms, same thing for the moms who didn't raise these men per the true Islamic teachings that preach qawamah, responsibility, self-reliance, etc. Yes, these moms they failed as you said because they were over coddling their " princes ", sadly they never cut the umbilical cord. Hypothetically, they never stopped breastfeeding. Siiiigh. My ex boss once told us that a guy only becomes a man after his mom dies, but as long as she's alive he'll always be a child even if he's a grandfather. Which, back to the upbringing, is what leads to their inability and inadequacy to lead their families and to step into the role of qawamah that Allah swt entrusted them to. That is very unfortunate wallahi, and that's why the wife feels like she has to step in and fill in the gap, especially if she is too conscious, too anxious, too frustrated. This reminds me of a quote I have read somewhere " I have never known a relaxed woman, a successful woman yes, but never a relaxed woman" .. oh well, because she doesn't feel safe enough in her environment to relax, she doesn't feel safe enough to let go of control, she doesn't feel reassured enough, she has to stay on top of things and she has to always be on the move, to make sure things are getting done. This affects her mental AND physical health, and then scientists wonder why women are more prone to auto-immune diseases. Astaghfirullah.

See, Islam solved everything. Islam teaches the guys to be responsible for providing for the wife and kids, whereas the woman's job is to raise a new generation of good Muslims. But when we move further from our deen, when our values get stained by the western propaganda, when our women are forced to be slaves to capitalism, that's where the imbalance happens, and that's how the system glitches.

I really want to get @heruwrittencanvas s opinion on this, so I hope she also replies to this.

And finally, I just want to reinforce that I am not talking about all men out there, but unfortunately, it's the majority. Allahu al mustaan.

[jonogueirawrites]

The in-between.

All Evangeline wanted was to find a place where someone like her could belong. Little did she know that it wasn't a place that would finally soothe her sorrowful soul but a rather charming artist she couldn't be with.

After all, family was everything.

All the characters are aged up. I'll be posting a new chapter every Friday.

Chapter 1 of 20 (?).

And the end begins.

AO3

TW: nightmare, attempt murder.

Evangeline sighed. The rain cascading down the car's windows reminded her of the many tears she had shed the night before. She looked in the rearview and noticed the driver looking at her. 

"You'll be fine, little angel." 

She knew he meant well. He was probably right, but it didn't quell the heavy uncertainty in her heart. She nodded his way, appreciative of his encouraging words. 

"I wish they were here." She told him. Sincerity and sadness dripping from every word. 

"They wanted to. But you know how things are." 

"Yeah." Her gaze turned to the window, and she opened it. Hoping the raindrops would blend with her cold tears and muffle the small gasp that escaped her trembling lips. 

"You know what?" The driver addressed her again. "How about some coffee?" 

Not bothering to clean the tears, she looked at him. "You know I don't like coffee." 

"Who said it is for you?" The same comforting old smile grew on his face, and she couldn't help but feel warm inside. "Now, we could always try to find a place for some creamy hot chocolate." 

"I'm already late for uni." She closed the window. Sitting back, she crossed her arms and sighed. 

He stepped on the brakes. "Who cares?" He turned to fully look at her. "I don't get to see you in months." A shadow of sadness crossed his eyes. "I'll miss my little angel. What are thirty more minutes if we're already late?" 

Evangeline laughed. "Thirty minutes?" 

"One hour, maybe two. Who knows?" 

"Father will be mad at you." 

"What can he do? Fire me?" The driver threw his hat on the passenger seat. "C'mon, Evangeline! Give the old man here this one last thing." 

"You're lucky you're family, Daniel. Father likes you too much." She chuckled softly.  

The old man was older than the beginning of times. He was her parents' most trusted friend. He was her guardian, defender, and one of her closest friends as well. She loved him with everything she had. 

"Your father treats everyone as family. He is too good and too kind for his own good. Now your mother. She is the short-tempered one." 

"Mother would never fire you. She trusts you with our lives." 

"I know, I know." He threw his hands in the air. "But she can rip anyone a new one with one look. She's a scary woman when she wants to be." 

"It's in their nature, isn't it?" She massaged her temple. "I just wish I was-" 

"You've got the best of two worlds." 

Evangeline scoffed. "Double chocolate for me." She smiled at him. 

"Anything for my little angel." Daniel noticed it didn't make her eyes shine, but the smile was a victory. Evangeline had a rough road ahead of her, so any victory, no matter how small it was, was an important one. He only wished he could help her see how special she was.  

She playfully rolled her eyes at him. A chuckle left her mouth and dampened the sorrow in her soul. 

~~~~~ 

They arrived at the university with the moon high in the sky. The rain heavier than before. 

Daniel opened the door for her with a large umbrella in his hands. They walked side by side. Her trembling figure holding onto his arm. 

"It's a cold night, isn't it?" He tried to calm her nerves. It was the first time she would be apart from her family. 

Evangeline chuckled. "You don't need to coddle me, Daniel. I'm not a child anymore." 

He halted. Holding her hand, he placed a loving kiss on her fingers. "I watched you be planned. I watched you when you came to this world. I was sworn to be your guardian. I was by your side all those years." He patted her head. "I watched your struggle. Your fierce fight to find yourself-" 

"Do you think I will find it one day?" 

He took a deep breath. "Only you have the answer. Something is missing in your heart, and only you can find it. I wish I could help you, but the time has come for us to be away." 

"I don't want to. I don't know how I will-" 

Daniel hugged her. "Shush, little angel. Your family will always be by your side. Maybe not in the most convenient way." 

She laughed. The memory of all the times they caused her more headaches than not came to mind. Still, they had her back. All of them. "I know." 

"Take this time and learn more about yourself. Stop trying to be what you think you should be. You are your own person. What is it your mother say?" He cupped her face and gazed into her eyes. 

"'Who gives a fuck about other people's opinion? Time is short, and we need to be happy now. Don't trample on other people but also don't let them trample you.'" 

"Correct! And your father?" 

"'We love you because you are exactly who you are. Nothing more and nothing less.'" 

"They are right. Now let's get inside and get this over with." 

~~~~~ 

Evangeline walked inside her room. Per her father's request and the nature of her powers, she had one all for herself. While the rain lashed out outside, punishing the big window as if trying to reach her, she unpacked her bag. After a cold shower, she went to bed and prayed the new place would bring her the answers she had been looking for her whole life. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He tossed and turned. In his dream, only nightmares. 

He chased after someone. A small shiny dagger in his hands. A gust of wind lifted leaves in the night forest air. His eyes on his prey despite the fog around them. He was sure he could touch whatever it was if he raised his hand. 

A laughter, a giggle, a whisper… a cry cut the cold air. A sickening shiver made him fall to his knees. It was hard to breathe. 

Panic washed over him when his prey fled. From the berry brush on his left, a terrifying sound emerged.  

Lifting the dagger to protect himself, he watched as it fell to the ground when a splitting pain hit his head. His hands moved for his eyes. When he opened them, a tall, dark figure loomed over him.  

Helpless, he watched as the figure took his dagger from the dirty ground. A smile with too many teeth playing on their obscured face. Knowing very well what was going to happen next, he sat back on the balls of his bare feet and closed his eyes, waiting for his inevitable demise. 

Time stopped around them. The figure lowered their hand to deal the final blow, and he could feel the sharp blade aiming at his heart.  

The flutter of wings caught his attention, and his eyes opened on their own accord. The biggest raven he had ever seen fought the tall figure. Protecting him. 

With his limbs free from whatever kept them bound, he managed to grab the dagger. Just in time to see the tall figure circle the raven's neck with their long fingers.  

Both of them looked at him at the same time. Both of them lifted their hand and talon, begging him to give them the blade. A choice had to be made, but he was afraid of the consequences. 

Although the answer seemed to be clear, his heart was heavy. In the split second it took him to decide, both entities in front of him called his name. 

"Xavier!" 

He woke with a start. On the nightstand by his right, his phone buzzed. 

Cleaning the sleep from his eyes and trying to take the taste of desperation from his mouth, he reached for it and read his father's name on the screen. A strange feeling in the pit of his stomach started to grow when he heard his father say his name. 

"Xavier, is everything all right?" 

"Yes. Did something happen?" 

"I was sleeping when I heard you call me. Decided to check if you're okay." 

"I'm fine. You don't have to worry." 

"Okay. Call me if anything happens." 

Before he could reply, his father hung up the phone. As if you ever answer whenever I call was the first thing that crossed his mind. 

Turning his cell phone off, he got in bed and slept. No more dreams or nightmares plagued his rest. 

~~~~~ 

When Xavier woke up, he couldn't shake the feeling something was off. His roommate telling him to hurry up worsened his headache. 

"Yeah, yeah. Go ahead. I'll be right there." 

His body was sluggish because of the bad night. When he arrived at the classroom, his usual seat was taken by a woman he had never seen before. He dragged his feet to sit by her side and her face lit in happiness as soon as she saw him. 

Paying her the minimum attention, he shot a weak good morning her way and organized his things. Ajax's voice came behind him. 

"Someone took your place?" 

Xavier barely had time to look back when the woman by his side answered in his place. 

"I'm so sorry. Didn't know it was taken." 

He watched as she gathered her things and stood near the door. Not really in the mood for anything that morning, he closed his eyes and waited for the professor to come in.  

The professor’s voice took him back to the room. "You can sit there. It’s available."  

Not the only one to turn, Xavier saw her thank the professor with a smile and go to the seat. Ajax whispering gossip his way. 

"She arrived late last night. From that school in New York. The elite one." Ajax waited for Xavier to acknowledge his words. "Miss perfect is what they call her."  

At the end of his words, both looked at her again. She organized her things with precision. Her movements mechanical. It seemed she liked everything under control. One more freak.  

She was in the right place. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Evangeline had to hurry herself up when the class was over. She liked to take notes of everything the professor said and usually wouldn't mind being the last to leave, but she had to apologize. 

With quick steps, she reached the man she had stolen the seat earlier. 

"Hi!" She waved at him to get his attention. Her heart beating so fast she was sure she was going to pass out. "I wanted to apologize for before." 

Xavier and his group of friends gave her a quick once-over. "No problems. You didn't know. And besides, first comes, first serves." 

She chuckled softly. Her last school had a strict set of rules. Everything had to be organized, neat, and functional. She was going to have a hard time adjusting. "I see," she managed to say at last. "Still, I'm sorry." 

When she had chuckled his way. Something dark crossed his eyes. Deciding to ignore it and make sure her first day was perfect, she lifted her hand for a quick greeting. "I'm Angie. Nice to meet you." 

Once again, something crossed his eyes, and she struggled to keep the friendly smile. After he introduced himself as Xavier, she made sure to talk to his group of friends as well. Feeling she was overstaying her welcome in their space, she left with a wave and a strange feeling. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Xavier watched her walk away with his guard up. When she introduced herself, the same feeling from the morning washed over him. When he shook her hand, black feathers floated in his mind. 

Whoever she was, she came to bring change. He only hoped it was the good kind. 

When he looked at his hand. The heavy and cold feel of a blade made his fingers curl around something invisible. Something that was going to save his life or be his downfall. Only the future would tell. 

Xavier ran his fingers over his hair and sighed. He closed his eyes and heard her low chuckle again. 

Next chapter 

I hope you liked.

Likes and reblogs are super appreciated!

[wnterreign]

⟨  rose williams.  cis woman.  she/her.  25.  ⟩        we welcome katerina blacktyde to king’s landing , the lady of blacktyde. keep an eye out for their timid nature, they tend to cover it up by acting empathetic. rumor has it they are neutral to to the peace treaty, and their loyalties lie with house blacktyde. you’ll know it’s them when you get flashes of gentleness blossoming despite an abundance of violence; your father’s ghost hissing how great a disappointment you are; and a caged bird flying for the first time

BASICS.

FULL NAME:   katerina blacktyde. ALSO CALLED:   kat, rina, katerina. TITLES:   lady of blacktyde. AGE:   twenty-five. GENDER:   cis female, she / her. ORIENTATION:   bisexual, biromantic.

BIRTHPLACE:   blacktyde castle, blacktyde, the iron islands. RELIGION:   the drowned god ( loosely ). SPOKEN LANGUAGES:   common tongue.

STATUS:   unwed, unbetrothed. LOYALTY:   house blacktyde.

PERSONALITY

POSITIVE:   empathetic. gentle. sensitive. imaginative. NEGATIVE:   timid. diffident. passive. quiet.

HISTORY

the youngest of the blacktyde clan should’ve been allowed to drift into the shadows, forgotten, especially with three siblings before her in the line of inheritance. but lord blacktyde viewed all of his children as pawns that he could use for his advantage, and thus he had high expectations of even his youngest. katerina’s mother did what she could to shield the young girl but if anything her mother’s attempted protectiveness only made her father harsher when katerina proved too gentle, too weak in is eyes. he blamed her mother for coddling her and allowing her to become soft. however, when elyn blacktyde passed away, a loss that grieve kat deeply, and she still didn’t toughen up, her father’s anger turned fully onto her. 

katerina had no memory of any kind words from her father - or many islanders for that matter. she proved an unskilled fighter regardless of the many, many hours her father made her train or the numerous weapons she tried. sailing was fun but when the waters grew too treacherous she often panicked. she also didn’t possess a cruel bone in her body. her father called her a false ironborn and often questioned if she was secretly another man’s, likely a mainlander, bastard for surely no child of his blood could be as weak as katerina. while some of her older siblings fought against their father’s abuse, kat was far too fearful of him and bore every harsh word in silence, praying that it would be over soon. unfortunately, it only made her an easier target.

when she was twenty-one, she almost fled the islands entirely. a chance encounter had introduced her to a young sailor, a commoner, but he was kind, and a friendship developed. he, knowing how unhappy her life at home was, suggested that they run away. katerina accepted and plans were made. however, on the night they were set to leave, she arrived at the docks only to find him slaughtered. her screams echoed throughout the island. when her father summoned her the next morning, she understood; the secret had never been one.

she fully believed that her future would fully be dictated by her father from that day on. until he passed away. katerina felt not even an ounce of sorrow. rather, she felt like she could finally breathe again. since her father’s death, she began stepping out of her shell more. however, the fear he ingrained within her refused to leave, and katerina often felt his ghost lurking in the halls of the castle.

EXTRA

loves reading as it was her one way to escape blacktyde castle even though she physically couldn’t leave without her father’s permission. normally prefers stories, often fairytales, but in her late teens she developed an interest in flowers and herbs, which grew into an interest in the art of healing. 

katerina does have a spirited side. it’s nothing compared to the boisterousness normally associated with the ironborn and her father’s abuse greatly diminished it, but around those she feels safe with it’ll emerge, resulting in her being more outgoing, jovial, and even adventurous - perhaps a window to the woman she might’ve been had she been allowed to blossom rather than repeatedly stepped upon.

[sayafics]

Dance of Shadows - Teaser

Daemon Targaryen x Targaryen!OC

Hi, this is just a teaser for a little storyline I've been playing around with in my head for a while. Let me know what you think and if you want more!

Chapter I

Masterlist

Saenyra Targaryen was the youngest daughter of King Viserys I and Queen Consort, Lady Aemma Arryn.

The girl was only a year younger than her sister, Rhaenyra Targaryen, and she had grown up in her shadow. With no male heir, aside from the Rogue Prince - who was repeatedly banished from the kingdom before finding a fleeting excuse to return - Rhaenyra was seen as the heir of Viserys.

With such recognition came the adoration of both the people of the Seven Kingdoms and their father.

Such notions were not extended to Saenyra, a child who was truly defined by her sex. She was to be traded off as a brooding mare when her father deemed it time. That was what the Lord Hand had told her.

Otto Hightower was a shrewd man, able to recognise even the smallest of cracks which he could weather and weaken. He had found one in Saenyra - a tiny crevice that grew into a gaping wound as her mother gasped her last breath.

A crack in her heart and a tear in her soul that reeked of agony and desolation as her sister sought comfort in Ser Cole, and her father in the unwilling arms of Alicent Targaryen.

Saenyra was a disaster, a wavering opportunity Otto Hightower couldn't allow himself to pass.

***

Saenyra would find herself bumping into the man when she walked to the library, in hopes of finding a book invigorating enough to distract her from her fumbling thoughts. He would tag along, share encouraging words and place a comforting hand upon her shoulder.

Otto was not blind to the lack of parental love she was offered, and though she was a beautiful sight, he knew that becoming the figure that she was missing in her life was the best way to assure she played to his tunes.

Saenyra was not much taller than her older sister. Her hair flowed down her back in tempered curls and brushed across her thighs, her eyes were a violent hue of purple, and her smiles were shy. She did not have Rhaenyra's fierce nature, nor her confident persona - Rhaenyra knew the power she held in her beauty, and she knew how to use it to her advantage.

Saenyra was ignorant to her charms, rarely leaving her room since she had no dragon to tend. Her dragon had not hatched when it had been placed in her cradle, and being a Princess meant she was confined to the Red Keep without a dragon to help her escape.

She could see how her father and uncle looked at her sister in admiration, how her mother coddled and gushed over her when she performed tricks with Syrax. It caused her heart to ache, knowing that she would never be looked at with such adoration, with such love and care.

It was a realisation she had been burdened with for so long. A realisation she had began to hope was false after her mother's death.

As her relationship with her father crumbled to dust, she built a tentative friendship with Otto Hightower - oblivious to the Hand's ulterior motives.

[moralorelconfessions]

before nature i kinda related to clay cause i fit the whole repressed bisexual - coddled only child - self loathing / destructive combo too but good god. he is vile

[xiaowhore]

them as sappy lovers

includes: thoma, childe, xiao & albedo !

thoma

word spread fast when thoma gained a lover. but really, it wasn't circulating rumors nor gossipmongers at fault — it was thoma himself, who could never seem to shut up about his significant other. the lovesick chatter seemlessly leaves his lips without shame, and you swore the entire nation of inazuma knew he was dating you at this point.

it's incredibly obvious when something good happens concerning you, whether it be him receiving a kiss on the cheek or a simple “i love you” before parting ways to attend to your respective work; thoma would grin foolishly the whole day and skip along the grassy fields akin to a lovestruck maiden experiencing her first love, randomly picking out flowers to gift you later. conversely, it's also evident whenever an argument tears you apart; thoma bears a hilarious kicked puppy look, similar to a dejected golden retriever being reprimanded by its owner.

(this is also when thoma shares too much information about his private life as he drinks away his sorrows, mourning over the distance you've placed between you until you forgave him. “they'll never forgive me. what do i do if they want to break up,” he hiccups, shit-faced and slumped over the table. everyone knows he actually has nothing to worry about, especially when you arrive at the bar to take him home, catering to his every whim and putting up with his clingy nature.)

childe

the ruthless and coldblooded tartaglia is nearly unrecognizable when accompanied by his lover. frighteningly so, in fact; the subordinates under his care are often stupefied when they happen to witness their boss making kissy faces unfit for a harbinger to have.

it's never easy to keep a straight face on when tolerating the sight of their leader coddling you in the middle of an important meeting, fearless even in the midst of la signora's supervision. (he's not seriously thinking they don't notice him playing footsie with you under the table, does he?)

moments where his hand is vacant are few and far between, always found tangling with your fingers or holding your waist. yes, you're that annoying couple who flirts everywhere, but you're not at fault. he finds every opportunity to throw in some cheesy pick-up line that he's sure wouldn't make you swoon, but he says it regardless just to see you snort and poke fun at him.

“marry me?” he'd say jokingly while sliding a ring on your finger, yet another one of the presents he frequently showers you with. you stare at him in contemplation.

“sure.”

he chokes, makes an odd strangling noise, and loudly demands no take-backs.

xiao

he's like a wary stray cat that has finally been tamed.

he doesn't recoil from your touch anymore, even nuzzling to it on occasion. he remains as quiet as ever, but he's an attentive listener who's more than willing to hear you out. he's awkward with romance, clumsy when it comes to skinship, but he's so endearing that you find it adorable. (not that you'd tell him that.)

he eagerly waits for your visits at the top of wangshu inn, sharp eyes scanning the vicinity in search for your silhouette. he can hear the telltale sound of your footsteps from behind, but grants you a shocked expression when you give him a “surprise” hug nonetheless, if only to see your face lighten up to a triumphant grin. “did i scare you?”

if there's anything that scares him, it would be how fast his heart is racing right now.

thump, thump, thump. the setting sun graces your skin with a soft glow, golden rays illuminating your pretty eyes. your grin reduces to a gentle smile as you patiently wait for him to speak, fixing him with an affectionate gaze he feels undeserving of. the corners of his lips pull upwards, and he shyly takes your hand into his.

“you did.”

albedo

it's become a habit for sucrose to ignore the little sketches on albedo's notes without actively pushing herself to disregard them.

it was eye-catching at first, a series of rough drafts vaguely hinting at a figure she was familiar with. the shape of their smile, the brightness of their eyes, the hands holding their favorite flowers; sucrose could immediately tell who the pictures were trying to portray, and she could feel her face grow warm.

it's no secret that albedo is hopelessly in love with you. he gifts you trinkets he personally tinkered with, gives you the pretty flowers from his experiments, and shows you “magic tricks” with the help of alchemy. all to see your radiant smile, glowing in delight. it's a small happiness, one that he reminisces in fond when his thoughts are in disarray and he needs a moment of peace.

you're the burst of color in the dull passage of time, the vibrant reds and yellows that remind him of warmth, the calming blues that soothe his worries. the pinks that flush his cheeks and set his heart ablaze, the green that makes him think of pasture and new life.

he picks up his brush and turns to the blank canvas, humming to himself. he wonders if he'd ever be able to paint how beautiful you truly are.

[outmakingmoonshine]

I love reading your takes!

I put this under the cut because it's a bit long.

I agree Carmy wants to be seen and understood, especially by Syd. Maybe only by Syd. He only really makes the effort to be seen and understood with her tbh. I can't find a gif right now but in season 1 he kept doing this thing where he would literally move his head into her direct eyeline if she wasnt looking at him when they were talking, like he wanted her to see and understand the real him. That there's more to him than the big shot chef and culinary prodigy she saw him as.

I've only just noticed he doesn't do that anymore after 1x07 when she saw the worst of him and he shattered that illusion for her in a pretty harsh way. But in his defense he did try to get her to see him many times before that. He still wants her to see him but now I think he's afraid because when she saw him last time she left. She came back but he knows she could leave again any time.

Imo Claire kinda treats and talks to Carmy like he's a small child which is just strange to me. Why would she wanna date someone that imo, she doesn't see as her equal. She molly-coddles him and tells him things like "never apologize" which is such a ridiculous thing to say to someone who makes so many mistakes and hardly ever learns from them. I bet she expects an apology from him now though! She encourages him to be juvenile and irresponsible. As someone in a demanding job herself, she should know taking him out on multiple random excursions in the middle of the day while he's trying to open a restaurant is irresponsible and unprofessional.

One of the things I love about Sydcarmy is Syd treats Carmy like an adult even if he doesn't act like one sometimes which is exactly how he wants to be treated, like an equal. She doesn't baby him or molly-coddle him, she doesn't make him feel fragile and small or tell him empty words that mean nothing just to make him feel better in the moment like he's a toddler and she tries to encourage him to be responsible and professional. She treats him like a capable grown man and I find it so interesting that with Sydney he instictually acts more like a capable grown man than he ever does with Claire.

He wants to be the one to take care of Syd, to be her rock and the one she leans on, he wants to be the initiator in their relationship, he wants to seduce her, make her feel beautiful, wants her to feel like he can help fix all her problems, he wants her to feel like he's someone she can fall back on, someone she can rely on to lead her in the right direction if she needs it etc. All things that relate to Mars which is the planet/God associated with masculine energy. But he's also more than willing to be soft with her and openly lets her see his gentle and sentimental side.

Where is any of that energy with Claire because he's definitely the more passive, feminine energy counterpart in that relationship. Not that that's bad at all but my point is, that's not who Carmy is or who he wants to be. Claire leads everything they do, she had to ambush him into communicating with her, had to guilt trip him into hanging out with her, she's the one who initiates the vast majority of the intimacy between them, he never tries to be there for her emotionally, he's never thoughtful with her, she has to drop hints for him to want to do anything nice for her, he makes no effort to look after her or seem like he's capable of looking after her or that she can rely on him or anything.

Carmy is naturally a masculine being with some of the best feminine energy you can find in a man imo; he's willing to show his emotional side, willing to talk about his feelings, to admit when he's wrong and apologize sincerely, tries to be intuitive and thoughtful etc but there's only 1 character he's comfortable showing all those sides of himself to and letting them see who he really is. He barely wants to talk about his feelings with his own sister who probably understands him more than anyone, but with Syd you can't shut him up! It's like he wants to tell her all his hopes, dreams and deepest fears all the time. He wants her to know all sides of him and every part of him.

Claire shoves Carmy into that box of the passive, emotional, non-masculine man that needs to be wrapped in cotton wool and hidden from the world but that's not what Carmy wants, he doesn't want to be babied or treated like a fragile person. He shows who he wants to be in his interactions with Syd 99% of the time. Watching Claire/Carmy scenes Carmy always seems slightly uncomfortable with her imo, like he's hiding himself which he never does with Syd. He might keep things from her but he wants Syd to see him. It's subtle but with Claire he's so different to the anxious but still confident leader we see in the kitchen that it stands out so much to me. Even the way he carries himself in scenes with her is off, his body language is off and more awkward and anxious than usual, his eyes are hard and guarded when he looks at her wheras with Syd they're nearly always soft and open. The way he talks to Claire is also very guarded and somewhat closed off even if it seems like he opens up to her, he only tells her surface level things. He doesn't want her to see the real him, he lets her see whatever she wants to see and fits into whatever box she puts him in and I think it's because he doesn't trust her and he just doesn't care whether she knows the real him or not. He trusts Syd and he saves the real him, all sides of him, for her eyes only.

*When I say masculine and feminine energy I'm not talking about men and women, I'm strictly talking about the duality of energies that both exist in all men and women at varying degrees. Carmy and Syd both have a great balance of each imo. Syd's very feminine but she knows how to use her masculine energy and uses it well.

Carmy wants to take on a masculine, provider role in his relationship with Syd and her femininity brings that out in him even more. But Claire is also very feminine, why doesn't she bring that instinct out in him at all? Why doesn't he want to appear like a capable man who can look after her the way he does with Syd?

Tbh the possibility of a Claire/Carmy endgame is like 0.001% to me. Even if SydCarmy are only ever "platonic" and subtextual, I can't see it ever happening. There is nothing in their story that says they belong together, that she makes him happy or that he needs her in his life at all which you kinda have to establish early on for it to be believable in the end and they've already thouroughly established that with sydcarmy. Imo it's way more likely that Richie and Carmy get married than a Claire/Carmy endgame.

Carmy wants to be understood more than anything

Thinking about this magnificent post (their gifs) and the core of what I ship sydcarmy.

Carmy seems to feel rejected by his mother since early childhood, and tolerated a portion of their extended family humiliating him for his career. He was bullied for leaving home, and when he came home, he was resented for making a decision of not doing it sooner. I want the show to address this last aspect because of the horrible abuse he suffered in nyc every day, then loosing the closest thing to a parent you ever had, he probably had some sort of breakdown.

Regardless, my point is that Carmy rejects a lot of parts of his persona, because everyone around him also did. That is probably why he had a stutter (it is common in kids who don’t feel anybody wants to listen to them) he himself said that he was afraid of speaking half the time. Rejection is his core wound. Hr never felt understood or truly embraced. He didn’t have friends. He needed everybody to valid his relationship with Claire before being comfortable with putting a name to it. He doesn’t recognize his talents in drawing, he had to fake a whole personality to get through a social gathering with people his age.

Claire was okey with him pretending to be someone else in that party, she acted like it was cool. She pushes him to do a lot of things without asking for his opinion. For me, she is ignoring his voice at various levels too. She is even dismissive “talking about dead brothers you wanna go to a party”

And then you have Syd, a woman who is also romantically interested in him, that wants to know his side of things. Most of their grow as partners had to do with mutual honest communication, they have this telepathic conversations about a shared passion. She sees him. She understands him even with how little she has.

I am not saying it is about how many things he has in common with Claire vs Syd. Is about how Syd has seen the worst of Carmen and stills helps him to get better because she also sees his kind nature. It is about how she knows when he is being shitty and held him accountable. It is the lack of difficulty in their understanding and mutual respect, even when they are pissed at each other.

If Carmy chooses the dismissive ex girlfriend over the partner that had understand him more than anybody else he has ever meet, I am sorry, but wtf are you trying to tell me?

[moemoemammon]

How do you think the Brothers would go about with an MC that acts like a mom/dad? Who do you think would slip up first and call them that?(Although I'm pretty sure we all know it would be Satan 'cuz he is in desperate need of a parental figure-🏃‍♂️)

Parental MC!

(Feat. GN!MC and the Demon Bros)

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

Lucifer

Didn’t think much of it at first. You were extra helpful, and he figured your empathy and attentiveness was just another one of your unfortunate human qualities...Until you scolded him for staying up so late, and he felt kinda whipped? Hello who do you think you are????

Can’t even get mad at you because you’re right, and now for the first time he feels like HE has to apologize?? His brothers are 👀👀👀📸

As much as it bothers every fiber of his being to be told off by a human... you're also so affectionate and attentive that it makes his heart swell. But please stop fixing his collar in front of Diavolo he begs you-

You don't let him resist. This man doesn't know the first thing about self care so it looks like you'll have to beat it into him 💪

It's the little gestures, like making his coffee some mornings or bringing his breakfast to his room, folding his clothes for him and making sure his favorite suit is pressed to perfection, and- ...now he's embarrassed. Please leave him be...

Mammon

There’s so much to get onto this man for its not even funny- His room is always cluttered, he rarely irons his clothes, doesn’t do his chores, his time management is nonexistent...

So you let into him and now he feels like he’s being torn apart by Lucifer-! What the hell is the big idea..?! Ya know you're taking to THE Great Mammon, right??

And when he tries to buck up and yell back at you? You take his PHONE. MC please it was just a prank bro please he’ll clean the tub he swears pelease...,,,

Maybe it's not so bad though. As much as you get on his nerves, you praise and encourage him so much that he can't stay mad. When he needs anything, he naturally just goes to you.

He's starting to get used to being spoiled by you. It's nice, you know? Having someone who derisively cares about his well-being and stuff... N-Not that he's happy about it or anything!

Levi

This man’s self care habits don’t exist, and that means he’s a victim of your parental instincts. His stuffy room needs a deep clean, he needs to eat proper meals, and he needs some fresh air!

Definitely rebels the strongest. There’s no way he’s listening to some normie-! ...Is what he’s say if you weren’t holding Azuki-tan hostage.

You tell him its for his own good and that you care about him, so he can’t really get mad. And this kinda...doesn’t this feel like a specific genre of manga..? Uwaah...

But seriously, being spoiled like this is way too much! You bring him meals to his room, sometimes you help him tidy up, you make sure he's taking care of himself... y-you're not trying to propose, right? He's not taking it the wrong way, r-right??

You thought he was clingy and needy before?? Just wait till he becomes attached to your hip because of all this love. He will literally do things just to get your attention. Oh nooo his room is dirty, please help him clean again oh noooo you're enabling him-

Satan

This man’s sleep schedule is so sporadic, and his room? Atrocious. You’re gonna fix that.

Not without ample resistance, though. It’s always “after this chapter, I promise”, and “Oh? Have you been watching those parenting videos on Deviltube again?” He's not taking it seriously at all-

Smooth about how he ignores your commands, but he finds himself bending a little... It's nice that you care so much about him, but only in moderation.

Satan likes being spoiled, but he'll become annoyed if he's coddled too much. Be careful not to treat him like a child. He's pretty independent in general and has his stuff together, and prefers to be the one spoiling you.

Calls you mom (derogatory) because it's funny-

Asmo

He’s used to being adored, but this is an entirely new thing! You’re so thoroughly interested in his  wellbeing that he actually feels kind of... Embarrassed? What a weird feeling...

You coddle and adore him, yet you’re stern when he goes overboard. You nag him to study, and you carefully brush through the tangles in his hair, you fix the tears in his favorite outfits, you bought him that candle he was looking for...

His heart is so full, he can’t keep his hands off of you! Marry him, MC! Give him a kiss! Jokes aside, it's making him feel all giddy, even when you scold him for trying to start a party in study hall.

Really though, you're managing to tame one of the wildest brothers, and that's a feat in itself! Try not to let him take advantage of that-

Beel

He noticed how caring you were right away, and BOI did it make him happy. Beel seems naturally drawn to you, because of your gentle nature and the way you somehow get everyone into line.

They’re happier lately because of you, and he loves it. Even Mammon’s scummy behavior has improved! 

But what REALLY gets him are your homecooked meals. They carry that comfort food feel, and he can taste the love in every single bite. It’s so good, it’ll make a grown man cry...

You still scold him when he breaks into the fridge or leaves crumbs everywhere, and he actually feels bad for it 😔 Sorry mom....

Now he usually goes to you for help before he'll go to anyone else. Sometimes he prefers you over Belphie... sometimes. It's not that obvious, but he's definitely become clingy.

Belphie

This brat could use all the gotdamn help in the world, but luckily you seem to have the tolerance of a saint.

His sleeping habits can’t really be helped, but you know he can do better about taking care of himself!

He’s annoying about it and asks you to do it for him. Brush his teeth please. Can you make his bed? Hey, have you seen his pillow? Let him use your lap-

Naturally drawn to you, too, like his bastard soul knows he needs a parental figure to set him straight. Does his best to have you spoil him, but usually falls flat

And when you scold him? He tries to ignore you like he does with Lucifer, but something about your lectures hits different.. Especially when you whip out the “I’m not mad, just disappointed”. He'll linger around and try to do little chores to get your attention, and forgiveness.

[espressokiri]

Sister Always Has Your Back

 Kawata twins x Sister!reader

In which Souya and Y/n get ambushed on their day out.

Warnings: violence, language

Genre: fluff

“Do we have to go out, Y/n?” Souya whined as he stretched his limbs, walking alongside his elder sister. “Do you not want to spend time with me, Souya?” Y/n pouted as she side eyed the male next to her, Souya panicked and immediately shot down the accusation.

“No! I do, I just thought we could laze around at home.”

Y/n rolled her eyes, “you troublesome twins are always out and about, but when it’s my turn to go out with one of you it’s a problem.” She tsk’d before continuing on with their journey to the ice cream parlour.

Nahoya had been called over for a captain meeting, leaving out Souya, so Y/n had decided to spend the day with her youngest brother. It was rare for both twins to be separate but when they are, Y/n would always fill in their time with hangouts. It’s not like she see’s them everyday.

“Could have not worn the uniform, brother dearest.” Glancing at the Toman uniform with a displeased face, Souya grunted and knocked his shoulder lightly upon her’s, “I’m more comfortable in this.”

“We should get matching sibling outfits, it’d be cute.” Y/n hummed, looking at the array of clothing on display at the local boutique as they passed by it. Souya’s eyebrow twitched at the idea, “hell no.”

Y/n looked at him offended, “you literally have a carbon copy of yourself! But matching outfits with your sister is crossing the line? For shame.”

Souya looked at Y/n with amusement glinting in his eyes, holding onto the hem of her sweater with his hand. 

Y/n wanted to coo at the male, she was proud of her twin brothers and loved to coddle them when they had the time to hangout. She would give her life for theirs if the situation ever came. Souya may have taken over the favourite twin title though due to his adorable nature, he would often cling onto Y/n in the subtlest ways in public, it was even more noticeable in private. Nahoya on the other hand, was a typical annoying brother. He always overdid the over-protective brother title with both Y/n and Souya. Y/n and him would often get into petty fights with Y/n claiming victory due to their older sibling and only girl in the family status. Y/n did love both equally though, they were her star and moon while she was their galaxy. 

They would always come back to her when they got into gang fights, Y/n providing first aid whenever they required it. Y/n would also stay awake during the nights they were away for fighting, she never condoned this gang of theirs but she won’t hold them back. If anything were to happen to either of them, she would unleash hell.

“What flavour do you want, Souya?” Y/n asked him softly, glancing behind her as the male held onto the back of her shirt and stayed half hidden. “Chocolate.” He muttered, looking at the different flavours through the display glass. 

“He’ll have a scoop of chocolate in a cone with some rainbow coloured sprinkles!”

Souya looked at his sister in awe, admiring how she remembered he liked it in a cone with sprinkles. 

Once Y/n payed and handed Souya his ice cream, she grabbed her’s that was in a cup and lead him toward a nearby seating beside the large glass window. “Thank you.” Souya said as he licked at his cone, peeking at the flavour Y/n got.

“Wanna try it?” Y/n took a spoonful of her ice cream and lifted it towards him, Souya leaned forward and took it in his mouth, making a face at her choice of flavour. “That’s nasty.” “You’re just saying that because you still have the taste palette of a child.”

“I miss you guys, you know?”

“You see us everyday.” Souya pointed out.

“I mean none of us hang out together anymore, both of you are always out and about with that little gang of yours.” Y/n chided, leaning her cheek on her palm, “guess you two outgrew wanting to hang with big sis, huh?”

Souya pouted at the sad smile that graced his sister’s lips, it wasn’t very like her to get emotional over them, but he did have to admit that they weren’t spending as much time with her anymore. “We’re still your younger brothers, we can’t outgrow you.”

Y/n hummed, taking out her phone to snap a picture of Souya with the ice cream cone to his face. Souya whined at her to stop when he noticed the camera on him but Y/n just snickered and sent the picture to Nahoya.

“Smiley is going to call me a baby now.”

“You are the baby of the family.”

Souya huffed and finished the rest of his cone, avoiding the grin on his sister’s face as she read through Nahoya’s reply.

“Let’s walk around the city shall we?”

The bustling city streets were alive with people and the chattering noise that was brought, along with the obnoxious sounds of cars and motorbikes. People bumped into each other as they rushed to their destinations. The smell of street food lingered in the air as the yelling street vendors advertised their merchandise. 

Souya had his arm around Y/n’s shoulder as he didn’t want them to separate and get lost, guiding her past people and trying to find a more isolated street as he was getting irritated with the loud noise and brushing of people. 

A whistle sounded in his ear as he turned towards the noise, freezing when he caught eye of some Black Dragon delinquents. “Well if it isn’t some shitty Toman member.” Souya gulped as he glanced at his sister who narrowed her eyes at the five men who were gathering around them.

“Who’s this? Your little bitch?” Souya snarled at the male who uttered such a vile thing, “whoa isn’t that one of the twin’s of the Toman?”

“Let’s beat him up and take the girl!”

Souya pushed Y/n away from him and got ready to attack, rushing towards the closest male and swung his arm forward to give him an uppercut. The male simply grabbed Souya’s arm and twisted it, lifting Souya and slamming him onto his back.

“Not so tough alone are ya?”

“Get your hands off of my little brother. Step away from him before I kill you.” Y/n’s eyes were lit with fury, figure trembling in anger as she saw Souya’s arm bent in an awkward position as the male whined in pain.

“What’re you going to do about it girlie?”

Y/n glanced at Souya who was begging her to run from the scene, “good thing I’m wearing pants today, huh brother?” She sent him a reassuring grin before running towards the attacker and swerving around him to get on his back before doing a scissor leg takedown after wrapping her legs around the male’s neck.

The male choked as he gasped for air, Y/n’s legs around his neck, blocking his air passageway. “Anyone want a go? Or can my brother and I go back to enjoying our day?” She taunts as the male goes slack.

An array of yells echoed as they charged her.

Y/n rolled away from them before jumping into a standing position, using her high-kicks to bring them down. A surprise punch to her throat had her stumbling, hands on her neck as she coughed. That stumble alone had her at a weakness as another punch on her cheek had her go down.

“Nee-chan!” Souya cried out, getting up himself and fighting. He tried to get them away from her.

Y/n gained her bearings and grabbed the face of the male on top of her that was strangling her, pushing her thumbs into his eyes. He screamed and immediately let go of her, rushing his hands to his eyes and being easily pushed off by the female. 

Two down, three more to go. 

Souya kept getting distracted with his eyes darting to Y/n every now and then, resulting to him getting slower at moving away from hits. He coughed as someone threw a nasty punch to his stomach, collapsing in front of Y/n who stood in front of him.

Y/n wiped the blood oozing from their busted lip and smiled at Souya, “let your nee-chan take care of it, Angry.” Patting his head as he looked at her with tears in his eyes, “don’t worry your pretty little head.” She cracked her knuckles as she analyzed the three left in front.

“Let’s get this over with.”

Y/n charged at the three, dodging their attempted attacks effortlessly and returning it with a much greater force. 

What Y/n didn’t notice was the male she had first knocked unconscious had regained his senses and came behind her with a bat, hitting her over the head causing her to go tumbling down as another hit landed on her ribs. 

“Don’t hurt my nee-chan!” Souya cried as he shakily got up, avoiding the stinging pain in his awkwardly bent arm. 

The revving of engine had everyone freezing as they glanced over to find the fourth division captain smiling manically at the delinquents. He lifts up his phone which revealed a tracking app leading him to the isolated street, “good thing I installed a tracking app on your phone, huh sis?”

Nahoya walks past a teary-eyed Souya, patting him on the head, “I’ve got this covered, Angry.”

Nahoya tsk’d as he eyed the Black Dragon members before initiating a fight, not holding back as he let out his anger on them. “Never. Mess. With. My. Family. Again.” Smiley grinned as he enunciated each word as he delivered timed punches.

Souya helped Y/n up, the girl groaning at the pain in her ribs as she leaned against the youngest.

The littered unconscious bodies indicating their little victory.

“Were ya able to use that special move, Y/n?” Nahoya asked, kicking an unconscious male as he skipped over to the two. “Just once, unfortunately.” Y/n huffed, wincing as Nahoya roughly pulled her up on his back. 

“Are you okay, Souya?” Y/n asked, glancing at the sniffling male, placing her chin on Nahoya’s fluffy hair. “Yeah, I’m okay.” He wiped his nose with his sleeve. 

“What would you do without me.” Nahoya snickered, hitching Y/n higher up on his back as she was slipping. “Shut up, Nahoya. I had it under control.” Y/n murmured, causing Nahoya to snort, “under control my ass.”

“You were cool, Y/n.” Souya stated, looking up at Y/n before glancing away as she reached out to pinch his cheek. 

“My heads pounding.” Y/n groaned, pressing her temple roughly against Nahoya’s head. “That’s what a bat to the head does to ya, you should ask Mitsuya-san about it, he’s been hit over the head by a bat, a metal bar, and a brick!” 

Y/n furrowed her eyebrows in concern as she wondered if the boy had a head of steel, “how does he not have a severe concussion?”

Nahoya shrugged, “beats me.”

“I’m sorry our day got cut short, Souya.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“How about tomorrow the three of us go to the arcade? It’s been a while.” Nahoya proposed causing the eldest sibling to smile, “that sounds nice.”

“Smiley, what about your bike?”

“Draken can pick it up, I already texted him.”

“Poor Draken has to deal with the likes of you too.” Y/n joked, groaning in pain when Nahoya banged the back of his head onto her forehead, “yeah, yeah keep making jokes, you’re the injured one here.”

“This is why I like Souya more than you.”

“Well, Angry likes me more than you.”

Y/n gasped as she turned her head to Souya who did not want to partake in the conversation. “Traitor!”

“I never said anything!” Souya defended himself.

“I’m his favourite sister!”

“You’re his only sister!”

“Guys please...”