Greatandmightyapplepie



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    His full-grown son. A commander on the battlefield and the one who negotiated political alliances with frightening logic and pace as if he’s always one step further away from the enemy.

    Doing this.

    Doing—whatever this was.

    Was this what it meant to be a father? To be brought to his knees not by war or duty, but by your own son making little finger pokes and pouting like a cat begging for tuna?

    “I… I see,” Deruth stammered. “Y-you’re sorry. That’s… good. That’s very good.”

     

     

    Deruth is going to die via heart attack.

    Or five times Cale do an aegyo and one time someone do it back to him.

    Language:
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    31 May 2025