#and i get a library!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! anyway.

[beloveds-embrace]

Sooo much angstttttttttttt 😭

I need the boys to wake up and do whatever it takes to fix it, please, I can't take the angst 😭😭😭

Does this count as fix-it? 🤔 hope you enjoy, anon! Also this turned out far longer than i thought it would lol

First Part

Another shift slowly happens within the duchy, palpable. The whispers of servants echo louder than ever, growing sharp and cutting in the empty halls you once used to frequent. They still avoid you, but now they wonder and whisper of your health. It’s not just them; the men you’d once hoped you’d at least be on an amicable basis with slowly change as well, the longer your absence haunts the halls and galas.

John is the first to act. It’s hesitant at first, awkward even, as though he can’t figure out how to approach the shattered remains of what he’s ignored for so long. He stands outside your door one evening, his shadow stretching under the flickering candlelight, fist raised to knock. But he doesn’t. Not at first. He falters, as if the weight of his guilt roots him to the spot.

When he finally does knock, it’s tentative, barely audible.

“…Are you awake?” His voice carries a softness you’ve never heard before, but it grates against your numbness.

You don’t answer. Your eyes barely flick towards the door, not moving from where you are curled on your side.

He lingers, sighs, and leaves.

You had intended to let yourself waste away, in all honesty. Only your mother doesn’t let you; she bursts into your room one day, sneers at the miserable sight you make, and insults you to the high heavens. Nothing new, even if her digs hurt, even if she says she isn’t surprised by no one loving you when you are like this, but she forces you to eat some nibbles and then into a shower; she doesn’t care. She is simply tired of having you be an embarrassment and hiding away from the public eye.

Thus, you no longer stay in your room. You don’t bother with jewelry, with heavy gowns or complicated hair styles or even clearing the layer of dust off your furniture, you just leave your room. Thankfully,

Unfortunately, that means passing by the maids and servants. It means passing by them. It means interacting with them again, though no longer initiated by you.

Simon is the second, and less direct. He lingers in places you begin to re-frequent; the library, the gardens, the corridors near your room. He doesn’t speak, just watches from the periphery, eyes heavy and intense. Once, when you brush past him without acknowledging his presence, he mutters something under his breath, his fists clenching at his sides. But he doesn’t try to stop you and you don ask what he said.

He probably didn’t mean you, anyways. You doubt he wants to speak to you, the obstacle.

Johnny falters the most. Though your interactions with him were few, you’d occasionally hear from the servants about how fun he is in general. His smiles, though they’ve never been aimed at you, look quite fake to you, jokes half-hearted and dying on his lips whenever you pass on rare occasions.

One day, he brings a tray of food to your room himself, hoping to coax you into eating with something he’s cooked just for you. You answer the door, see him holding it, and shake your head without a word. Even if it looks delectable, like the dishes John would get.

“Please,” he says, his voice cracking. “I- just try a bit, hen.”

But you close the door before he can say more. He will try again and often, sometimes just leaving the tray, but you never touch it. You’ve lost weight, you know, and the only reason you are getting some nutrients at this point is because you occasionally sneak into the kitchens late at night for tiny snacks to tide you over. If Johnny knows it’s you, he’s never said anything.

Kyle is quieter, yet more present. The guilt eats away at him the most; he knows that his lack of care and respect had a part in the way the rest of the maids and staff treated you. He spends his evenings pacing the hall outside your room, his head bowed, mumbling apologies that you’ll never hear, wondering which one is best.

Once, he catches you in the garden alone, his mouth opening as if to speak, but you pass him without so much as a glance; you already know he won’t care for you have to say or ask for, he’ll just say he is busy, so you just don’t bother.

He stays frozen in place, his hand half-raised, the words stuck in his throat.

The servants, per Kyle and John’s orders, begin to change. Their guilt is slower to manifest, but it’s there and it’s evident in the way they rush to fulfill your needs despite your reluctance. They clean your room with quiet efficiency, no longer treating you like a burden, even though you hadn’t asked it of them. They leave fresh flowers on your desk and vanity, extra blankets on your bed, and freshly pressed gowns in your wardrobe.

You ignore all of it. It’s a waste of everyone’s time snd effort. You aren’t worth it.

Yet despite their heavy guilt, they return to and continue serving you.

But nothing changes the heaviness in your chest, the emptiness that refuses to leave.

One day, closer to the date of the annual winter gala hosted by the emperial family, you step into the dining room unannounced, your presence startling them all. It’s the first time you’ve joined them in weeks. You move slowly, your posture rigid and tired, your expression unreadable.

“Duchess,” John starts, his voice uncertain, rising from his seat.

“…John,” You sit without meeting his eyes, your movements slow and deliberate. The table is silent, the tension suffocating as John, Simon, and Kyle exchange uncertain glances.

John clears his throat. “It’s good to see you, wife.”

You don’t respond.

The meal is awkward, stilted, but it’s necessary for you; you need to get reused to John for your eventual reappearance in high society. Johnny offers you dishes with a hesitant, hopeful look in his eyes, and Kyle pours your wine with an unsteady grip. John and Simon try to start a conversation, but their words falter and fade when you don’t reply.

Still, they try. Over the following weeks, their efforts grow.

John begins carving out time to spend with you, awkwardly hovering near your door, waiting for even a crumb of acknowledgment. He starts leaving small notes for you- apologies and quiet promises to be better. They pile up on your desk, untouched but not thrown away. You want to believe, but you feel jaded and tired.

Simon offers you quiet companionship, instead. Standing at your side in the garden or library, saying nothing but ensuring you’re not alone. He speaks softly when he does talk, a one-sided conversation with only the occasional hum or noise from you, but he’s undeterred.

Johnny keeps cooking for you, leaving trays of food outside your door with little notes attached: Eat a bit, bonnie. Just for me. You don’t eat much, still have very little appetite, but you do start taking bites here and there, and it’s enough to keep him trying.

Kyle offers small acts of service- holding doors open for you, keeping anything you might need available at hanf, ensuring your rooms are kept warm and comfortable. His words are rare, but his actions speak of endless guilt and the quiet hope that he can earn even a sliver of forgiveness.

The maids and butlers follow suit, their movements quieter, their service more thoughtful. They stop muttering, their eyes full of remorse whenever they see you. They bow in respect, and no longer treat you as if you aren’t a part of the duchy.

But you keep them all at arm’s length. Their guilt is evident, their efforts genuine, but the wounds they’ve left on your heart are deep. Forgiveness, if it ever comes, will not be easily earned. For now, you let them try, watching their clumsy attempts with a mixture of numbness and quiet satisfaction (that you do feel guilty over, but truly can’t help).

Several weeks before the gala, John comes to your office. He sits down, and waits until you are finished with your paperwork before he speaks. You are in a beautiful dress- Simon’s gift- and your hair is in a delicate style, done by your maids. You look pretty. You feel nice, even if the numbness remains. These days, it’s less.

“Duchess, I was thinking,” he began, voice soft and patient. “it might do you some good to get away for a while. A change of scenery.”

You turned to look at him, the suggestion pulling you from your numb reverie. His blue eyes searched yours, and for once, there was no coldness, no distance. “Somewhere quiet,” he continued, “where you can rest… away from all of this.”

The idea of leaving the suffocating walls of the manor, and the heavy tension of the duchy was tempting. And yet, you hesitated, unsure if you could trust the gesture or if it was just another attempt to smooth over appearances.

“I’ll take care of everything,” he added quickly, as if sensing your doubt. “You won’t have to worry about a thing. You can choose who you’d like to go with, or even if you want to go alone. It’s entirely up to you, Duchess.”

Johnny and Kyle appeared in the doorway then, Kyle holding a tray with a steaming cup of tea, Johnny with a small, hopeful smile and a plate of your favorite biscuits. Even Simon lingered near the threshold, his gaze steady but tinged with something softer than usual.

They were all waiting for your answer, their expressions almost pleading. You could feel the weight of their guilt and the sincerity of their offer. It wasn’t much- not enough to erase everything that had passed- but it was something. A step forward.

“…I’ll think about it.” you said at last, your voice quiet but firm. And for the first time in a long while, you saw a flicker of relief in their eyes.

[aelfgiure]

From the moment I was coherent, I knew my family was different. Off, somehow, not normal. It was something in the way my parents looked at me when they thought I was distracted, the way they treated me like I didn't belong. Like I was an inconvenience.

My brother and sisters? So, so spoiled. Between mom's modeling and dad's business stuff, there was MONEY, and my siblings had it lavished on them. Toys, designer clothes - whatever they wanted. They were hugged, cosseted, taken on trips, given actual attention! They had a fabulous childhood.

Not like mine.

There was this undercurrent of resentment towards me that I never understood. I never had birthday parties, the folks were always "too busy", tossing some money my way so I could get a present. It never mattered what my grades were, I handed over the report cards to get signed and that was it. Unlike my siblings - they got pizza parties for not failing classes! but my damn near perfect marks were shrugged off. It was a lonely, confusing life, especially for a little kid.

My solace was in books. (Yep, I nerd.) If it was in print, I'd read it. That empty feeling inside me was soothed when I filled myself with words, stories, information, music. Yes, I taught myself how to read music, too, and how to build and play instruments. The early ones were crap, but I got better at it.

Anyways. I read everything, which led me to the 'occult/spiritual' section of the library and book stores. Right next to the fairy tales and legends, of course, so I read those too because why the heck not? It was ... it was educational. Upsetting. I wandered around the house and saw all the cold iron and silver on every window, every door. The weird herbs growing at every entrance. Keep in mind that I was TEN. Ten years old, trying to understand what was going on with my life, and suddenly figuring out that my parents were keeping something out. Of course, the next thing I did was check my clothes and, surprise surprise, everything had odd things sewn into the hems. Not only was something kept out, I was warded against being Taken.

So, I did what any angsty pre-adolescent would do, and plotted. Come hell or high water, I was going to find out what was going on. For the first time in my life, being ignored worked in my favor. Using the books and stories as a guide, I bought things, ingredients and materials, and worked quietly. Waiting for the night of the full moon.

I was as thorough as only an angry child could be. Opened doors, front and back. Walked around the house widdershins, sweeping away the protective ring of salt and runes. Did I mention I was naked? Yeah, I took a bath and washed myself with a bar of Ivory soap, getting rid of even the smallest trace of binding or charm. Since I didn't trust any of my clothes, or any in the house really, it made sense for me to go naked. To be sure.

The results were impressive. Also terrifying. Two powerful, ancient beings stormed into the house and dragged my parents out of bed, starting a three-way screaming match about contracts, oaths, stuff I didn't understand.

That was when I learned why I was conceived. It hurt, honestly. Learning that I was just a bargaining chip, chattel to be bartered or sold, broke my heart. They kept me warded to avoid issues, they said. They didn't know which being had the first claim on me, and neither one wanted to give up the wealth and beauty they bought with my life.

I was ten years old, and heartbroken, and oh so angry, and I interrupted with a suggestion. The witch and the faerie exchanged a look, before turning to my parents with the same smile on both their faces, one with extra teeth and mischief.

To this day, I have no idea what happened to them. I've lived with my dads for ten years now. Not full time anymore, university is a beeyotch and I live off campus, but every break, I go home.

My family is still kinda off, and different, but my dads love me. They're proud of me, they encourage me to be awesome, and we celebrate birthdays and holidays together. They keep saying that they have to make up for lost time, but knowing they were trying to find me, knowing they never gave up hope - well. They wanted a child to love, and i needed parents to love me. It all worked out in the end.

Your mother sold her firstborn to a witch in exchange for beauty and your father sold his firstborn to a fairy for wealth. Today you are born.

[the-kingshound]

Mordred snippet as a gift to my lovely followers❤

Arthur will get married.

Mordred thinks of that, instead of reading the book that is open in front of him on the library's desk. The book is interesting, in his opinion, but he can't help but wonder about the new Consort.

A spark of longing makes it way through Mordred's chest. If the person Arthur is marrying, as Mordred understands, is from a rival House to the Crown, then he and Evaine won't be the last outsiders in the castle.

Looked at and spoken to differently. Left horribly out of place, like plants eradicated from their soil and left in a vase to whither.

He doesn't belong here.

He wants to belong, though. His... Arthur has tried very hard to help, but... As Mordred takes the perhaps too heavy tome, cradling it against his chest, and getting up from the seat to leave the library, hardly anyone spares a look in his direction. And if they do, it just ends up making Mordred feel uneasy.

He hastily goes through the exitway, having to push quite hard in order for the heavy doors to open. He thinks about going to Evaine, but then discards the idea, because instead a more pressing thought, or rather a realisation, takes up his mind.

Mordred is generally ignored, no one looks at him for more than a few instants, and though it sometiems makes him feel uneasy, it also generally sits well with him. He prefers to be left alone anyway, and Arthur provides enough company for when he doesn't.

But the thought of being ignored by the Consort too, just as everyone else, makes Mordred's insides twist.

But to avoid that, Mordred probably has to make the first step... maybe, he thinks as he walks, maybe a gift will make him be noticed? Just enough for Arthur's spouse to see that Mordred wants to be friendly them.

And then... they can talk. Maybe.

But... Mordred stops walking and takes a look around to locate the eastern tower, where the servants reside. Because he has just remembered that they are mute, as Arthur told him.

So Mordred has to learn to sign.

With a pointed focus that doesn't waver has quite a lot of servants greet him politely as he passes, Mordred walks towards a room he has been to before. He knocks, and waits, face set in a very serious expression.

A servant that Mordred doesn't know answers the door, his eyes widening as he recognizes Mordred.

"Greetings, my Liege. What can I do for you?"

But before Mordred can talk, his shoulders drooping a bit as his plan loses shape, a more familiar voice comes from behind the man.

"Oh, hello, Mordred."

His spirits lifted, he nods in greetings. Gwyar murmurs something to the other servant, who excuses himself, and Mordred gets inside the room.

He breathes in and gathers the courage to ask, "Can you teach me sign? Please."

[peacockrulz]

Sorry for the lack of posts, have some more headcanons!!

[sarahmackattack]

Went to make this into a sticker, then for SOME reason I was like “Wait…is a shrimp smoking a cigarette & drinking a pink cocktail while calling her opposition bastards not “brand aligned" with a science nonprofit that serves children???” Then I made it anyway, because

1) Life is short.

2) Shrimp are cool.

3) Our country is about to be controlled by people who CERTAINLY don’t care about rules, so why should I?!

Get one at the Skype a Scientist shop to get a rad sticker AND support free science education at Squidfacts.bigcartel.com

[lily-onher-grave]

okay okay okay thoughts/excited ramblings about the wicked movie under the cut bc i've seen it and now i'm insane about it again

let's be real it's kinda hard to fumble the opening number of a musical especially when that opening number is no one mourns the wicked and yet i was still absolutely blown away it was SO GOOD

the lil munchkins running, the singing in the streets, the posters of the witch (side note all the artwork was insanely good and just added so much to the style of oz i feel like) it was all so awesome

NOMTW becomes so sinister and they nailed it

obligatory emotional babbling about glinda standing alone in the crowd as everyone sings 'the wicked's lives are lonely'

before i left for the theater i was like 'take your bets on if i'll cry' and my roommate and i agreed that yeah obviously i would. but what i didn't expect is for ariana's sad face to knock me out in five minutes flat. i was done for

the effigy. holy shit. and handing the torch to glinda. i want to go see the whole thing again just so i can rewatch that scene. my heart still hurts

(also nanny! sort of not really. but i liked the childhood scenes i liked that elphaba had one (1) good thing in her life before shiz)

SHIZ okay shiz honestly shiz was the thing i was most excited for bc c'mon, we don't write about our gothic magic school all the time in fic for nothing. and honestly it was so good. the shots of the whole castle! the library design! the balcony moments and the stairways and just like the layers of architecture and the way morrible could kind of be anywhere at any time. the way it felt so grand and yet so small at the same time. idk man the vibes were good and the set was beautiful

glinda arriving by boat was magical that's all

the way everything dillamond had was tailored to him was fantastic it was so good

actually i want to shout out the library set design again and how it tied into the clockwork theme that never gets fully called out even in the musical but it's still so good

where's my time dragon clock tho

also back up the scene where elphaba loses her temper in the courtyard--when she breaks the relief of the wizard, there's old artwork of Animals behind it and i gasped out loud when i saw it

and that was the first moment i thought 'this is brilliant but i still want an hbo dark fantasy political drama tv show based on the book'

speaking of the dark fantasy political drama tv shows, the Animal meeting!! i'm so glad they put more stuff like that in there

actually as a whole the movie felt more grounded and less comedic than the musical. i think they did a fantastic job of keeping the magic and silliness and charm and wonder of the show while still adding those extra bits of drama and dire circumstances

anyway gelphie fic prank wars trope is officially canon great work everybody handshakes all around. i was cackling (silently. i promise i'm a respectful moviegoer)

the ozdust ballroom being illegal makes so much sense. it being underwater was fucking cool. boq and nessa were actually really great and i usually don't care about them at all during this scene

also i love love love nessa and i cannot wait to see more of her. but showing her multiple times on the sidelines when elphie was being humiliated was such a good choice. the tension between nessa obviously caring for her sister yet always caring for herself more is so delicious and i always want to see it fleshed out more, and i think they did such a good job with her? her and elphaba have sweet moments which i love, and her wanting to be independent and only elphaba really understanding that is so so good. and having her just watching elphaba for so long before finally saying she can't watch. god i can't wait to see her be desperate and selfish and cold in act 2, it's gonna be so good

side note boq also looking upset by elphie being bullied. i miss my brotp man

but let's talk about what's most important: the gelphie dance. because oh my god i started crying all over again. so did elphaba. and glinda wiping her tears i'm dying i've died oh my god

i always get a little bit surprised when glinda seems more head over heels than elphaba. idk why. but ariana's glinda is absolutely more head over heels than cynthia's elphaba and i loved it

(they just. freaking LEFT the party. just zipped out of there as soon as they hugged. glinda was like hmmm i just realized some things and grabbed elphaba's hand and ran off while the night was young. and fiyero stared after them knowing that he stood no chance whatsoever)

also i'm like 72% sure the guys sitting next to me were a couple? and they both cried during the gelphie dance too and it was a very unexpected but very funny moment of solidarity

i say ariana's glinda is more head over heels and i stand by it but elphaba's fond little smile when glinda was pouting about sharing secrets almost made me start sobbing again they're so GOOD they're so CUTE and she is SO heart eyes for glinda immediately!!!

i need to be sedated i swear

popular was adorable 10/10 no notes absolutely nailed it i loved every second

also glinda sitting next to elphaba in class now. my heart <3

after dillamond gets hauled away (again with this being more violent and dark and those moments of drama coming through more in the movie i loveeee) glinda doesn't sit down until elphaba does

also they had several little moments of elphaba looking to glinda and glinda either shaking her head or nodding. they've been friends for 2 days and they're already having silent conversations i love them <3

the poppy spell? was sick as hell????

another seeing of wicked, another complete sense of bafflement as to why fiyero is there

i say this jokingly but the fiyero and elphaba romance really does feel like a product of the early 2000s especially now that it's on screen rather than on stage. idk maybe that's just the lesbian in me talking though

the train design is also sick but we knew that from the trailers

okay look logically yes i knew idina and kristin would have cameos. but i'd been crying on and off and one short day's magic had already taken hold so they caught me completely off guard. it was great

the wizard stuff was really sweet. and while i was hoping for more time put toward shiz and stuff, i do think those moments did a great job of 1) showing how much elphaba just wants to be loved 2) foreshadowing the wizard being her father and 3) laying the groundwork for her briefly considering working with the wizard in act 2, which is a decision that never quiteee feels right in the show

i love that they put more lore into the grimmerie btw. very cool

the hot air balloon was random but fun. i wonder if it'll come up again in act 2

every time. every damn time glinda starts singing in defying gravity i just want someone to end it right there. glinda grabs the broom, it fades to black, and they both lived happily ever after

fuck

defying gravity taking place at sunset because it's at the end of their one short day of happiness

also UM morrible coming up and hugging glinda when she's crying. exquisite emotional manipulation i'm screaming

elphie! seeing! her! inner! child! i loved the baby elphie scenes even though i prefer creepy 'horrors' elphaba always. but seeing her come back was sooooo fucking good

elphaba only ever relying on herself, in the end

glinda's final 'i hope you're happy' took me out, as it always does, as it always should. and reaching out from the balcony? i'm sobbing again

morrible dragging glinda into the darkness while elphaba flies into the sun! someone fucking help me i'm already wrecked by these two

honestly my biggest complaint is that now i have to wait for part two, i want to see the rest nowwwww

[dakota1435]

Moonlight – Vampire!Sylus X Reader ✩₊˚.☪︎ ⁺₊✧

word count: 3k

tags: new l&ds character!, mention of alcohol, mention of violence

previous chapters found here!: x

Chapter 7

You awake softly, your eyelids heavy with exhaustion. You prop yourself up a bit, trying to come back to reality. The room turns with your vision, a dizzy spell stronger than you’ve ever felt. Quickly, you close your eyes. 

“Ugh…” You groaned quietly. 

 “How are you feeling?” Sylus voice was close to your ear, making you realize he was still next to you in bed. 

“Mhm… dizzy,” you said, noticing how dry your throat felt. Were you really this exhausted? The blood loss must’ve been too much these past two days. You feel Sylus shift around before he presses a cold glass of water against your arm. You smile at the gesture and take the glass before drinking the whole thing. 

“I…shouldn’t have taken from you so soon again,” Sylus said. It seemed like he was choosing his words carefully, slowly. “It’s hard to resist you, sweetie. You tempted me with your neck last night.” He brushed his cool fingers against your neck, tenderly. Your mind recalls every detail from last night, not to mention the ache your hips held. 

“It’s okay…” you spoke quietly. “I wanted you to,” you admitted. That much was obvious. Just recalling the overwhelming feeling of it all could turn you on again, if you weren’t so dizzy and exhausted. 

Over the next week ahead, Sylus is home more often. He doesn’t feed again, or touch you anything more than simple gestures. Although he didn’t show it, you were worried he thought he went too far during your last intimate moments together. But, maybe, he truly didn’t need to feed everyday. Or every other day. It was still difficult trying to figure him out. 

The same routine continued. You never realized how drastic it was no longer having a cellphone on you. But it gives you plenty of time to reflect and observe every detail around you. You started reading, given access to Sylus’ personal library. You asked the twins to get you a plain notebook, along with some writing pens. Since you were going to be here for the time being, it was better for your sanity to start documenting your new life. The twins might tell Sylus what you request, but that doesn’t mean he’ll find your personal journal tucked in a small, hidden space. At least, you hope so. 

…His stare is like ice, yet whenever he speaks it’s different. His words are smooth, honeyed, seductive. His touch sears into me, hot enough to make me melt. It’s hard to understand his true motives. Is this all so I can feel good? So I can forget the pain he inflicts upon his bite? Could there possibly be anything more than that? Between a human and a vampire…

You groan out loud as you hold your face in your hands. Even with writing your thoughts down, it still didn’t make any sense. What were you possibly hoping for, anyways? You close the notebook for now, tucking it back into its secret spot. A knock at your door snaps you out of your overwhelming thoughts.

“Miss? Boss wants to see you in the dining room,” said one of the twins. Luke, you assumed. He goes away without awaiting your response. You’ve learned it wasn’t unusual for Sylus to send someone to fetch you, rather than him coming himself. You sigh, combing your hands through your hair before leaving. The hallways were all familiar to you now, it didn’t feel like a maze anymore. You enter the dining room, noticing in the rare window the sun just went down. It was twilight now. Sylus stood, staring out that window. He doesn’t turn around at your arrival. 

“Come, sit.” He gestures to a large, leather chair next to him. Wordlessly, you go up to the chair and sit. You stare at Sylus, waiting for his next words. He seemed…tense. But it was hard to tell. He finally looks at you and speaks again. “The first time I brought you to an event, it ended up…unpleasant. It would be so easy if I could lock you up forever,” he chuckles darkly. You aren’t sure if he’s truly joking. “...But I need you to accompany me this time.” He looks at you, trying to gauge your response.

“Another…auction?” You asked. You were surprised he even thought about letting you outside after that incident. 

“No. This is much more important. I cannot risk leaving you here, unattended.” His tone was a bit stern. It left you puzzled.

“What? I’m…I’m not going to run, Sylus,” you stated, trying to make your point. He scoffed instead.

“I’m flattered,” he said flatly, “but that’s not what I meant. In a few days, there will be a gathering. A gathering of my kind.” He furrowed his brows a bit.

“Do you not want to go?” You asked cautiously. If he didn’t want you to pry, then that was fine, but clearly something was off. 

He sighs. “It’s significant that I arrive. I’m bringing you because I will not risk some idiot getting to you before I come back. Luke and Kieran will be away for a bit.” You muttered a small ‘oh’, understanding the picture now. To think he’s bringing his human into a den of vampires…is that truly the best idea? But then again, the thought of being alone and defenseless was bad enough. 

“Is it… truly okay I’m there with you?” You asked, feeling uncertain about your presence. Sylus pats your head once. 

“You think I would let anything happen to you? They won’t think twice about looking at you when they know you’re mine. Unfortunately for them, I don’t like sharing.” He walks over to a small desk, sorting through some papers. 

“Would I need to do anything specific?” You asked, trying to imagine what kind of event this could be. You wondered if other humans would be there, whether as a social thing or something worse. 

Sylus walks back over to you, his eyes locking onto yours. “Behave. But I’m sure that’s not a problem.” He smirked, his voice lighter. “It’s simply a formal event. I don’t expect too much. I’ll send some dresses over to you, in the meantime I have more work to catch up on.” With that, Sylus disappears to bury his head in more work. You really didn’t know how he managed it all. 

With ease, a few days pass by quickly. You didn’t hear from Sylus often, especially nothing more on the event. On the day of the event, you find a handful of boxes in your room just as he promised. You feel a tinge of excitement, eager to unbox your new dresses. You pull out a long, sleek satin dress. Its color was like a deep garnet with a lace pattern over the bust and lower waist. It was beautiful and you just had to try it on. You hurry to the bathroom and carefully slip it over yourself. This dress truly hugged your curves, but everything about it was perfect. A part of you worried it was showing off too much skin, but if Sylus didn’t think it was a problem then surely it was okay. 

“Do you like it?” Sylus’ deep voice was close to your ear. You continue to stare at the mirror, now looking at the both of you. Sylus’ eyes roamed over your body.

“Yes it’s…quite exquisite. Thank you,” you said kindly. You give him a soft smile. 

“It’s missing something though,” Sylus said, much to your surprise. Before you could ask, he places something cold around your neck. It was a victorian-style silver choker with a jewel that matched the color of your dress. Sylus clasps it together, before staring at your reflection. “There,” he said, sounding satisfied, “Now they’ll know who you belong to, kitten.” You flush a bit, but find yourself reassured. Sylus takes a step back, his eyes lingering on your back. “You seem tense, why?” Sylus’ question was straightforward. There was nothing you could hide from him. But out of the handful of things you could tell him, you picked one. 

“I’m nervous because I’m unsure what to expect,” you said truthfully. You could only think of so many outcomes of a vampire gathering. Sylus didn’t seem phased by your statement, though.

“Don’t worry, I plan to have you by my side the entire time.” Seems like that’s all you should know. You don’t inquire further, just accept whatever comes your way. You begin to prepare yourself, both mentally and physically. Adorned jewelry decorated on your body, along with the choker Sylus gave you. More like a collar in this situation, you realized. As you finish the final touches of your hair and makeup, you were ready to face it all. 

You both enter the same car you took on your last outing, sitting in the same seats. Once again, it felt absolutely refreshing to be outside again. The back courtyard could only do so much. Something about the air called to you, made you crave more. You unconsciously touch the jewel on your choker, it bringing you some form of comfort. After a long drive, the two of you finally arrive at your destination. It was a large mansion, much like Sylus’. Guests were walking in, some with partners and some without. They were all dressed fancy, exotic almost. 

“Come,” Sylus beckons. He extends his hand out to you, and you take it. He wasn’t kidding when he said he would have you by his side. You were practically glued to him. His arm around your waist was possessive, but protective. You tried to reassure yourself that you were safe in Sylus’ bubble. It was time to truly find out now. 

Upon entering the grand hallway you noticed others taking a step back from Sylus. Eyes trailing as you walk past. You weren’t stupid to not notice such a thing. Some whispered, others looked away entirely. You knew Sylus had immense power, but how much power could he possibly have? Still, you held your chin high. Your gaze never wavered. As you two enter a massive room, a couple people come to greet Sylus. 

“Sylus, sir, we’re grateful for your presence tonight. Who might—” The man addressing Sylus stops mid sentence upon looking at you. His expression is unreadable, and you weren’t sure if you were grateful for that. He suddenly snaps out of his concentration on you and bows. “My deepest apologies. Please, both of you, enjoy tonight to its fullest.” You were surprised to hear him apologize sincerely, not giving you another glance. You feel Sylus fingers touch your side a little deeper, unsure how to define it. 

“It’s quite alright. Thank you,” Sylus said, his words short. You both begin walking away from the man. You try and look up at Sylus, but he continues to stare straight ahead. You already had so many questions. A servant holding a tray of glasses pauses in front of you two, offering. Sylus grabs two glasses, each containing a deep, red liquid. You give him a puzzled look and he smirks in response. 

“What? It’s just wine,” he said, amused by your confusion. “We’re not only allowed to consume blood. We need it to survive though. If it makes you feel better, there are a handful of humans here too.” He takes a sip and licks his lips. The gesture makes you blush a bit. 

“Humans…like me?” You asked, hesitant to say the word ‘pet’. 

“Hmm…a few. But we do business with regular humans as well. You’d be surprised how involved we are in the world today,” he said. You stare back into your glass, trying to convince your brain you weren’t drinking blood. The scene laid out in front of you was beautiful, grand even. Guests were dressed up like royals, their beauty unique yet striking. Light music echoed around you, but you weren’t sure where it was coming from. Everyone chatted and laughed during the conversation, having the time of their lives. It put you at ease a little, to see this was quite a normal, fancy gathering. No blood baths, no rituals. You weren’t looked at like fresh meat, although you couldn’t help notice the awe in some people’s eyes as they tried to glance at you. 

“Sylus…how powerful are you?” You asked, sipping on the wine. It was good, you craved more. Sylus cocks an eyebrow, a bit surprised at your question. 

“And what brought this on?” He asked. 

“Well…I knew you were powerful. But since we’ve been in this place it’s like everyone regards you as a higher being…” You hope that came out right, not wanting to offend him. There was just so much you didn’t know about him. You hear him scoff, for better or for worse.

“I have fought my way to the top. It wasn’t easy…I have always been unlucky,” he admitted. You weren’t exactly expecting him to open up so easily. “I’ll take what’s mine. I made sure that everyone knows my name, that’s all.” A beat of silence made it clear he was done talking. So much for opening up, you thought. You wondered what he used to be like before this power but knew it was not a question to ask. Not now, anyways. “You will find out in due time,” Sylus added, a bit quieter. Before you could question what he meant, a different man approaches Sylus. He stares at you, surprise in his eyes .

“You found her?” The man said, almost to himself. But you still heard him, feeling confused at his question. Sylus clears his throat and the man diverts his attention. “Ah! Sorry, sir. I came to inform you that we found him. We are holding him in a room for now, awaiting your orders.” The man bows deeply, not looking Sylus in the eyes as he speaks. You look at Sylus, curious about the situation. 

Sylus sighs. “I didn’t think he would be found so soon. This changes things a bit.” He looks at you, his eyebrows furrowed. He looked…mad. 

“Who?” You blurted. Maybe you didn’t want to know. It sounded like dirty business he was dealing with. 

“We’ve been looking for…someone,” he said vaguely. “I didn’t expect him to be caught here. I have to take care of it now.” He clenches his jaw, clearly irritated. It suddenly clicked in your mind that he meant he might leave you. Alone. The man who approached Sylus was still waiting to guide him away. “You’re safe here, as long as you wear that choker. Stay here. Do not leave,” he commanded, his voice stern. “I will only be a minute. Be good.” He pats you on the head once, like a child. He begins following the man before you have a chance to respond. 

You watch Sylus as he turns down a hallway, now out of sight. You swallow, trying to ease your nerves. You drink the rest of your wine, trying not to meet eyes with anyone else in here. He said he would only be a minute…But from what you’ve learned when someone wrongs Sylus, he likes to take his time. Or so he claims. You were a little thankful he didn’t bring you for something like that, despite being completely alone. You fidget with the choker, your mind recalling the man’s words. Found her…had Sylus always looked for you? This newfound thought bounced off your head, anxiety starting to creep in. 

“Ugh…” You groan to yourself, staring at the empty glass. 

“Would you like more wine, miss?” A male voice asked behind you. You turn around, trying to make yourself seem small to this stranger. As you meet his face, your stomach sinks to the ground.

“....Caleb?” You whispered, almost afraid to say his name out loud. His eyes are wide, frantic, staring all over you. 

“Act natural,” he whispered, barely audible. Your heart was in your throat, you couldn’t believe it. Caleb, your childhood best friend. He was practically the only family you had…before you were taken. It’s been months now, since you last saw him. Why was he here? Why now? How did he know you were here? Questions flooded your mind, your throat tightening. You had no idea how to begin speaking. 

“Why?” You whispered back, trying to calm yourself. You weren’t sure who was looking. God, if Sylus knew, he would probably be angered. This wasn’t good, every second passing by was a second of Sylus returning. You felt nauseous. 

“Are you hurt? Did he do anything to you? That monster—I swear to God. I’m here to save you, I’m getting you out of here.” The weight of his words barely sank into you. You still didn’t understand how he knew you were here. At a vampire gathering, too!

“Caleb, you can’t– you can’t be here. Caleb this isn’t safe,” you tried telling him, but he wouldn’t listen. “How did you know I was here? Tell me.” His gaze softened as he looked at you. His eyes glance at the necklace and his expression becomes horrified. 

“I know who he is. I’m not letting him take you again. I don’t care if I die trying.” He grabs your wrist with force. It made you wince. You had to stop this, before Sylus came back.

Time was running out. 

“Caleb you need to leave!” You said urgently. Sweat formed on your brow. “I’m fine. He doesn’t hurt me! Please, leave, I’m okay!” You said, a little louder this time. He tugs you with him, causing you to stumble. A few people look over at you, whispering to each other. Tears prick at the corner of your eyes as the panic becomes overwhelming. He tugs harder, trying to break you out of your stance. “Caleb please!” You beg through gritted teeth. Before he can say anything back, you feel a tall presence behind you. Your stomach churns, knowing Sylus has returned and is looking at Caleb. You don’t turn around as you watch Caleb drop your wrist, his face hardening with hatred.  “Well…you heard her,” he says, his voice deep and slow. He places both of his hands on each of your shoulders. “She said leave.”

[melancholiaincarnate]

yours, now and forever

a regency era kento nanami longfic

「 in which ᵎᵎ 」 kento nanami is a fool with his words, and you can't seem to get on his good side.

「 words ᵎᵎ 」 many. (12k)

「 author's note ᵎᵎ 」 wow okay, so. this is my baby. it has gone through many versions, many rewrites, and now it's moved blogs with me. if you know my old blog, you know what fic this used to be, and i felt as if it were wasted on that fandom. without that fandom though, i wouldn't have found my closest friend and idea gremlin, @zooone. thank u to my zone. thank u to my proofreader @egglain who took the time to research my historical inaccuracies and then deal with me even as i proceeded to ignore them. anyways, heed warnings etc etc, this is NOT historically accurate, nor is it very good, but i love it. if the people demand, there will be little drabbles about their lives bcus i am not ready to give up regency!nanami just yet :DDD

「 tags n warnings ᵎᵎ 」 no smut deal with it, lottts of angst, major character death, historical inaccuracy, satoru gojo being a little bitch, satoru gojo matchmaker arc, kento nanami is a little ooc, everyone is a little ooc, nanami somehow became choso and yuji's guardian??? choso uses itadori last name, yuko ozawa mention?!, lots of angst, reader is a bitch if you squint, pining!!, bridgerton/pride and prejudice inspired :D

it’s beautiful this time of year. you’ve always loved the springtime, not only because of the warmer air and the fresh scent of flowers, but because it meant you were traveling up to the ton. 

the ton was one of your favorite places, if not favorite, to ever be. as much as you loved your father’s estate in the countryside– complete with its own stables, riding grounds, and grandoise library– nothing compared to stepping outside the door of the town manor stepping outside the door of the town manor to the bustling carriages and people laughing in the streets. the feeling of the sun shining down on you and casting gorgeous shadows of the leaves was incomparable.

springtime was the social season - when every family who meant something in society flocked from their vast country homes to the smaller, (yet just as grand), manors that lined the streets of london. 

social season also meant that you would see friends and family that you barely saw otherwise. each year, as your carriage pulled up to the manor, you could see the figure of your favorite younger cousin. even from quite a bit away, your excitement was infectious and you could feel it bubbling in your own body. 

this year was no different. as soon as the carriage pulled to a stop, you were bounding out, (nearly tripping on loose pathing), and bombarding your cousin with a tight embrace. 

“oh nobara,” you exclaimed, leaning into your cousin, “it’s been so long. my god, you cut your hair!” your mouth widens in surprise as you bring a hand to twirl the ends of your cousin’s hair. A

“over the winter i have discovered an affection for shorter hair. i saw a girl with it in a town i visited and i decided i must attempt it for myself.” nobara beams, “it looks gorgeous on me, does it not? i am sure to capture attention!” 

there was a glint of anticipation beyond measure in nobara’s eyes. this year, nobara would be making her debut at the first ball of the season, where she and other debuting ladies would announce themselves as open candidates for matrimony. 

the tradition was as follows: each lady, upon turning eighteen years, would make their entrance into society, and find themselves a husband. it would be done so via a series of balls, in which the ladies would dance with men who approached them, and be courted by men for four months before they were offered a hand in marriage. nobara, being from japan and having to find a companion to travel to london with, would be debuting herself a little later - at her current stature of one and twenty.

according to nobara, she had spent the entirety of last year taking notes and writing down tips from older ladies in a small pink journal - all so that she would find a perfect match in her first year. she was entirely too determined, you thought.

most ladies, if not all, find their match in their first season. there were some unlucky ones who took two, and even three. they were generally looked down upon by society, and nobara would be damned if she didn't get her husband her first go-round the ton.

you, on the other hand, were completely comfortable without a husband. you found the whole courting process tedious, and thought it a waste of time to spend hours at tea parties and balls flaunting off to men who simply see you as nothing but a warm bed to come home to at night. unfortunately, this would be your last year of freedom, so to speak. ladies around the ton were beginning to imply, (more like shove in your face), that you needed to be married soon, as it was quote unquote improper for a lady approaching five and twenty to be unmarried. 

you took pride in your family, especially your father, and if he were to somehow lose out on business prospects or be shunned from society simply because you did not fancy any man in london, you would feel most guiltily. he had done nothing but provide for you; how awful it would be to outcast one’s own family for lack of a suitable marriage. 

“cousin?” nobara cocks her head to catch the eldest’s attention, “you are always so far away, even when you are standing right in front of me. please, cousin, enlighten me. what is on your mind that has you so troubled?”

you simply smiled and shook your head. “i am only mentally grieving the loss of my freedom, nobara, and nothing more. you know i am not as eager as you are to be wed, and yet, the general populace are starting to talk. as much as i may protest, i fear that within the next two seasons– nay, one– i must procure myself a match.” you sighed, lacing your arm within your cousin’s as the two ladies entered the manor. 

they enter the drawing room and the scent of fresh flowers wafted in the air, a vase full of fresh lilies on the table by the door. the drawing room had alabaster walls, green accents, and was complete with gorgeous chestnut furniture commissioned by your father from a local carpenter after your mother had mentioned an affinity for the look of chestnut. the tables were recently polished, and sat right in the middle of a small side table were scones and tea.

“oh cousin, you are always so dreary!” nobara sighs, having a seat on the sofa. “pass me a scone, will you? i am starved.” upon your completion of nobara’s request, you sat down at your own small table, where your father had left a newly bound journal for you - complete with a small sprig of baby’s breath tucked in between the pages as a marker. 

although your father was often physically absent due to business travels, he was certainly not emotionally absent. he made sure that his daughter, no matter your age, was properly taken care of and had everything a young lady could possibly ever ask for. 

you didn’t mind his frequent absences though. you enjoyed your own company, and had no problem finding things to busy yourself what with your insatiable curiosity. you’d beguan reading more intensive books at ten, playing the pianoforte at twelve, and sewing at fourteen, though you’d stopped once you began pricking yourself too often. recently, you had picked up drawing, and you wanted to head to the markets sooner rather than later to pick up a brand new journal and some charcoal pencils.

tuning nobara’s drawls about the season out, you spoke. “nobara,” you asked, twirling the baby’s breath around in your fingers, “i am going to take to the markets if you would like to join. you would be agreeable company.”

“sounds wonderful!” nobara beamed, standing up quickly, “i need to pick up some new ribbons anyhow, the first ball is only a mere three nights a ways. i must begin preparations!”

upon hearing your cousin bring up the ball yet again, you could not help yourself as laughter bubbled out of your throat. you shook your head, grabbing a small shawl and wrapping it around your shoulders, before setting out the door to the market, nobara in tow. 

the market was an average place. everywhere you looked were small shops lit by candlelight and newsboys trying to hustle a pound or two by selling the latest society papers.

there were, of course, girls –-- with their corsets tied a little too tight and their legs crossed gracefully as they sat on park benches underneath lacy umbrellas. with girls, came men, who were seeking to start the season early as they paraded downthe side walks with an air of pompous grace, their eyes manically searching for the girl they were to court.  

“humourless morons in my opinion,” you scoffed as you watched a man procure a smushed flower from the back of his pocket and present it to a lady - the same man who, moments earlier, you’d watched do the same to another, only to be rejected. “not an ounce of shame behind their actions. it is honestly a mystery to me how they manage to get away with such behavior. do women not see? or do they choose not to see simply because they are deluded with silly fantasies of marriage?” 

“you need to watch your tongue, cousin,” nobara teased, her eyes also wandering and scouting for a possible match, “for one day, one of these morons will catch your eye.”

“in some other world, yes,” you laughed, shaking your head, “but in this one, i have yet to find one man who possesses the ability to be both aware of himself, and of the world, and i doubt i ever will. london is full of nothing but raffish rakes.”

after mingling amongst the patrons for an hour or two, the girls return home. nobara’s hands are filled with pretty ribbons and hair pins, while your hands are quite empty - save for a journal and a pair of charcoal pencils. 

as soon as you arrive back at the manor, you bid goodnight to your cousin as night has settled its way into your bones. you hadn’t slept in your room at the ton manor in almost a year, and so the minute your skin feels the soft silk of the sheets and the pillow that has been kept well fluffed, sleep weighs your body down. 

the next three days go about the same. you spend ample time in the drawing room with nobara, occasionally making a journey to the park to people-watch and draw while nobara converses.

you’re sitting in the park, your charcoal pencil composing a beautiful illustration of the landscapeand its nature. nobara is sitting next to you, a cross-stitch project in your hands when a girl runs up to them, one you both recognize, and the girl looks quite roused.

“you will never guess who is slated to visit.” the girl, a longtime friend of yours named yuko ozawa, is laughing. “the itadori’s and their guardian, kento nanami! they have not been back to london in ages! and,” her voice drops, as she looks around to see if anyone is listening, “rumor has it - the two eldest, yuuji and choso, are looking for wives. oh! and how could i forget! they are hosting a friend for the season. there are varying reports - some say it is lady ieiri shoko, but most believe it is lord satoru gojo, and my, he is wealthy.” she giggles, “i do not want after the wealth though. i have heard that the youngest itadori, yuuji, i believe, is around my age and is quite handsome.” she smiles, mischief dancing in her eyes, “hopefully, they attend the ball. oh! i must go home and start preparing. i do hope to see you there tonight?”

“we will be in attendance,” nobara confirms with a soft look and somehow, yuko’s smile brightens. 

“magnificent!” she laughs, “i will see you there! best of luck to you nobara, and you,” yuko turns to you, “i will not wish luck for, as i know you will not be courting.”

“i am glad you know me so well, friend.” you smile, and yuko laughs. 

“right, well. i shall see you two later.” yuko bids her farewells, and nobara turns to you, eyes dancing just as brightly as– if not more than– yuko’s.

“did you hear that, cousin?” her voice is filled with titillation and glee, “the itadoris, and their friends too! i am sorry to interrupt your art, but we must go and dress! one of us,” she smiles knowingly at her cousin, “might catch the eldest or,” mischief sparkles in your eye, “lord gojo’s attention.”

“and it will be you, dearest nobara. once they lay eyes upon you, they will be smitten for the rest of their lives.” you shut your book carefully, tucking the charcoal pencil behind your ear as you stand.

nobara does the same, dusting the dirt off of her dress as the two of you grasp arms and walk back home.

as soon as you arrive, nobara is sent into a frenzy. questions like, “should i wear this dress?” or “which pendant matches better?” are echoed down the long halls of the manor, making their way to your ears.

you’ve already picked out a dress, and compared to the dresses other girls will be wearing tonight, it’s rather, well, plain. a pale pink base with barely visible white lace decorating the front, and a white ribbon tied round your waist. your hair is tied into a neat bun, with your neck and face accentuated with a matching pearl necklace and set of earrings. after almost six seasons of watching, you know your ensemble will attract the least attention, and allow you to stay in the shadows as you please. you’re content with your look, and that is all that matters to you. 

nobara, of course, the very meaning of elegance, was dressed beautifully. her jewelry was polished perfectly and light bounced off of it like a mirror, while her dress was a gorgeous deep blue that made her face pop.

the ball was not short of ladies dressed similar to nobara - their faces shining with bright smiles as they fanned themselves lightly. it was the beginning of spring, after all, and the weather was beginning to heat up slightly.  people danced in the middle, soft giggles from girls wafting through the air. it was the first ball of the season - girls needed to make an impression. 

you watched from the sidelines, carefully cradling a small cup of champagne, until suddenly, the entire room went silent. it was odd - never in your life had you’d heard a room so silent, especially one that was just bouncing with life only moments prior. 

you saw the crowd parting for a group of people, and though you couldn't see all of them, you saw one particularly tall male. you craned your neck to get a look at the rest, and their prestige only clicked when they were announced to everyone.

“lord choso kamo,” the steward of the household pointed to a raven-haired boy with a frown, “lord. yuuji itadori, ” a fair-skinned, pink-haired man with a mischievous glint in his eyes, “lord kento nanami,” he was rather stoic and tall with gorgeous blonde hair,  “and lord satoru gojo.” a couple inches taller than kento, he had a prideful sort of look about him - one that caught the attention of every lady in the room.

as soon as the announcement of their arrival finished, the ball was back into full swing, with girls being twirled and spun around, and laughter dancing through the air. the small group of four separated, with the two younger men immediately finding themselves dance partners, and satoru entertaining himself with the women that flocked to him. his blonde friend seems to have his own fair share of admirers, but for some odd reason or another, he is ignoring them. 

it was the eldest of the group though, that tall blonde one, that caught your attention. you cannot decide whether it’s his handsomeness, or if it’s the displeased look on his face, but something about him makes you peel yourself off the wall and out of the shadows.

 for the first time in your life, a man has intrigued you.

people are bumping into you, but you weave yourself right through expertly. right as you reach the two men though, a drunken man pushes you, and you trip over your own feet. fortunately, there’s a pair of strong arms that wrap around your waist, preventing your fall.

“are you alright?” the voice is hiding its laughter, and you look up to find a quirky smile paired with a the most crystal blue eyes. “i must say, you would have taken a rather nasty fall if i were not there to catch you.” he helps you regain your footing, and as soon as you recognize him, you bow.

“lord gojo.” you murmur, downcasting your eyes towards his unnaturally shiny boots. “my apologies, sir.”

“no need for such formalities.” the man laughs as you raise your head back up to meet his eyes. “it was simply a mistake. drunken men, yes?”

“oh, nothing unusual.” you titter, “take a walk around the town at night, and i bet you would be penniless if you had to give me a dollar for every drunken man you saw. it does not take away from the charm though, oh not at all,  especially with the way the pond in the park glitters at night.” your eyes sparkle with a certain fondness that does not simply pass the man behind satoru. kento’s fist clenches at his side, and he takes a breath, his stoic demeanor returning instantly. 

“you speak of the town as if you have grown up here. am i correct in my assumptions, miss?” satoru’s voice is enchanting and it’s obvious his friend is hanging on your every word. his mouth parts slightly as if he were to speak but you begin talking again and he shuts his mouth obediently. 

“you would be partially correct. i spend my warmer seasons here, and the colder ones on my father’s estate not too far from here. i do consider this my home though.” memories of you underneath your father’s arms as you strolled around the town come flooding back to you, and your heart fills with warmth. 

satoru is quiet for a moment. as he goes to speak, a new song begins, and he looks at you sheepishly. kento’s fist clenches at his side. “forgive me if i am too forward, but would you like to dance? i may not be the best but you draw my curiosity.” 

you duck your head with a smile, and bow, “of course, my lord.” 

as the two of you take hands and begin waltzing around the room, you lock eyes with satoru’s companion. he  has his head cocked and is looking at you with a look you cannot place, but that you assume is nothing other than pure curiosity. his hands are crossed against his chest, and he is still blatantly ignoring any women that come to his attention. you decide then that you must ask him for a dance. your curiosity is insatiable.

the dance comes to an end, and with a reddened face, satoru gives you a bow. “i do hope to dance with you at least once more before the night ends, if you are not opposed of course.” his eyes are sparkling and you think to yourself that he is quite handsome.

“i am not opposed, my lord. come find me whenever you see fit.” with that, you bow, give a heart-melting smile, and find your way through the crowd towards the itadoris’ guardian.

he seems shocked–, no, confused–, as to why you’re approaching him. “lord. nanami.” you curtsy. you receive no greeting back– - not even an acknowledgement of your presence. he simply stares down at you with blank, cold eyes, the complete opposite of satoru’s. “i just had the pleasure of dancing with your companion. he is a wonderful dancer, i must say. do you dance, mr. nanami?” 

“no.” 

“oh. i see. is there a particular reason?” your hands have come to play with the pearls on your neck, a nervous tick of yours. it’s becoming awkward to keep standing here while this man blatantly ignores you.

“because i do not.” his voice is stern, and finally, he makes eye contact with you. “i do not dance, and if i did, i would not dance with you.” his words are harsh, and you cannot help the sneer that graces your lips.

“such pleasant words.” you retort with a bite, “it clearly appears you enjoy your solitude, so i will leave you be. good day.” you huff, your pride wounded. kento, on the other hand, takes a step to follow you, but then returns back to his post, watching your figure practically stomp away from him. you berate yourself for even thinking about dancing with him while similarly, he berates himself for his sharp tongue. 

you stand off to the side, fuming, as nobara gracefully steps beside you. “you danced with lord satoru, cousin, so why do you seem so down?”

“his companion,” you shoot a glare at kento, the ice in your eyes fading to confusion as you realize he was already staring at you, “is an impolite arse with no home training. i do not care how much wealth he boasts for it means nothing if he is rude to every person he comes across. for heaven’s sake, nobara, he didn’t even look at me for half of our short-lived conversation!” you are vexed, and as kento watches you recount the tale to your cousin from across the room, he cannot help but feel slightly remorseful for his actions. 

the guilt rises to his throat and nearly chokes him to death once he sees your rant interrupted by none otherthan satoru gojo. he feels ill, he thinks, as he watches your scowl lift into a smile at the sight of his friend, and his friend’s equally bright smile as he takes your hand and youproceed to the dancefloor. 

kento turns away, clenching his fist at his sides, and instead decides to take a walk around the grounds and sulk in the byproduct of his social ineptitude.

“miss,” satoru asks you as the dance ends, “i was wondering if you would be home tomorrow, so i may call on you. our dances this evening were wonderful, and i would be most grateful to get to know you more. of course, it is your decision. if you do not want to see me, i shall oblige.” he gives you a smile, and suddenly, the idea of marriage does not sound too horrible to you. not if it is him, at least. 

“do not sell yourself short! i would be nothing but honored to receive you at my home.” your features soften. “it would be my pleasure, truly.”

“magnificent!” satoru laughs, his chest bursting at the prospect of getting to know you more. “i shall see you tomorrow, then?” 

“tomorrow, my lord.” you bow, and he shakes his head.

“please, miss, the formalities are not necessary.” he reminds you as you both approach nobara, where you are waiting by the carriage. “miss.” he gives nobara a bow, which you return, and then he stands regally again in front of you. “it was a pleasure getting to know you today. i look forwards to our visit.”

his excitement was unmatched. the next morning, as soon as the clock hit a decent visiting hour, his presence was announced at your manor. 

he looked nervous, almost, but his look of anxiety was quickly swept away by a bright smile. “miss.” he bowed, “i am here, as promised. thank you again for having me. it was wonderful to meet you last night.” nobara gave a small knowing look to her cousin, and then promptly escorted herself out of the room.

nobara would only be gone from the room for a mere few hours– - as satoru had said, he had business to attend to. he did not leave without extending a dinner invitation for that evening, inviting them both to the itadori’s’ manor.

you accepted with a bright smile and a curtsy, but the minute you heard his carriage begin its venture down the road, you groaned loudly.

“i cannot– - he is– - i cannot.” you tried to gather your words, but couldn’t. “i do not think i will be able to sit at a dinner with kento nanami and not watch my tongue. he is … there are no words to describe him. oh, this is going to go horribly. absolutely terribly, nobara.”

“tell me, why do you care if it goes horribly?” nobara asks, not looking up from her cross-stitching. “i thought you were not looking to marry this season.” there’s a teasing lilt behind the words, and it makes you roll your eyes in displeasure.

“you are so attentive, nobara.” you sigh, fiddling with a pillow on the couch. “i … i am not enthused by the idea… but i am not completely… opposed to it.” you know you’re lying to yourself and your cousin– - you’ve always been severely opposed to marriage, but there was something so captivating and appealing about lord gojo that made you even the slightest bit open to the idea. 

“falsehoods.” nobara scoffs. “you have said since we were little that you hate marriage! just admit it,” nobara simpers, “you have grown affections for satoru! and after only one dance, my god! if i had known it was that easy, i would have set you up to dance ages ago!” 

“i have not,.” you huff, giving nobara a pointed look. “who is to say that i am not just utilizing the man and his wealth for a nice dinner? i am positive the food tonight will be like nothing either of us have ever had, and a singular dinner will not guarantee his affections for me. i am sure he will not offer his hand in marriage immediately.” 

“you speak so lowly of men, my dear cousin. they are but fragile and sensitive creatures, and they fall hard.” nobara tuts, finally putting down her cross stitch to look at you. “you are playing a dangerous game and i do hope you will know when to end it.” she sighs, “i only wish for your happiness, but not at the expense of others, and especially not one as sweet as lord gojo. please do keep that in mind.” with that, nobara leaves. 

as the clock ticks on, and time moves closer and closer to the hour when you are supposed to arrive, your anxieties grow. nobara was right - you are walking a thin line, and could hurt a good man in the process, but your heart just isn't in it the way you think it's supposed to be.

you watch the townsfolk through the carriage window as you think. people have always described love to be this beautiful thing. your own father would tell stories about how he felt like he could not breathe when he was around your mother. you were only so averse to love because of the way your father described it– - overwhelming and smothering. your father would say that he felt like he was being strangulated every time he was apart from your mother, and the thought of that just was not appealing to you. you wanted to be your own person, not bound to a singular person for a source of air, and especially not bound to a pompous, arrogant man.

the books, though…, they described love as some fragile glass knickknack that needed to be cradled gently or else it would crack. 

you did not want love if it was similar to asphyxiation and you did not want love if it was delicate and dainty. you wanted a love that you did not have to stifle yourself for, and you were positive you would never find it. everyone fell hard and fast– - but you thought love at first sight was ridiculous. how were you supposed to decide based on one look– - one dance–, that this was your life partner?

nobara, of course, knew all of this. she was not lying when she said she wanted the best for her cousin and whether or not that was marriage was up to you. nobara could sense the yearning though. she could see the lingering glances at happier couples and the hesitance behind every step you took away from men who approached you. she has taken peeks at the novels her cousin picks up from the market– - all romance novels. she knew her cousin wanted nothing more than to love and to be in love, but she also knew her cousin was a stubborn woman and would not settle for anything less than exactly what she wanted.

you spoke of an ache in your chest to nobara often. you both attributed it to the loss of your mother, but the stars knew better. the hole in your heart was an ache for love– - pure, genuine love–, and whether or not you liked it, the stars would deliver it to you in the form of one kento nanami. 

your attention focused from your wandering thoughts to three figures standing by the entrance to the itadori manor. lord gojo, with a smile so bright it rivaled the sun, and the two itadori’s at each side.

“you made it!” satoru is at the carriage door immediately, helping nobara out gently, and then you. “you look wonderful, i am so happy you are here. it is not my home, of course my home is a day's journey away, but the itadori’s are lovely hosts!” he smiles, his enthusiasm palpable and his love for the itadori’s clear. 

it's endearing to you, and you find a small smile creeping itsit's way up your face. “the manor looks lovely so far, my l-satoru.” you stop yourself, remembering the man’s wishes from the night before.

“i am unsure if you were properly introduced to the itadoris.” he leads you gently to the boys, who are making conversation with nobara, “this is yuuji,” he points to the boy with pink hair, “and this is choso.”

yuuji shakes his head, and then glances at his hand. “i hope… i hope you enjoy your day at our manor.” he smiles brightly, putting his hand down quickly. in a flash, you could see words were written on his hand and you suppress a giggle.

“our guardian, kento,” the thought of that man makes your chest tighten with upset, “is in the study. he says that he hopes you and your cousin enjoy the grounds and he will try his best to be present at dinner.” choso’s voice is bland.

“but if you ask me, he will not be there. he never is.” yuuji huffs, turning his back to the group. “i will be in the parlor with the piano, if you will excuse me.” 

“excuse him,” satoru laughs awkwardly, “the boy has got a bit of a temper.” 

just like his guardian, you think.

“would you like a tour?” choso asks softly, saddling up to your side. “i do not mind showing you around, i actually quite like this manor compared to our other one. it has more life in it.”

“i feel the same way about my manor.” you give him a soft smile, “i would love a tour, choso. satoru, choso is going to give me a tour around the grounds if you do not mind.”

“no, of course not!” satoru grins, “i had some work to finish before dinner any way, i was hoping the boys would entertain the two of you. i am sorry, i invited you over too early,.” he gives you a bow, “but i swear to you i will be right by your side at dinner. you have my word.”

“i trust you.” your eyes soften and you feel a sense of warmth wash over you at his promises. there has never been a man so thoughtful towards you, and yet, nobara’s words ring in your head.

you walk through the halls with choso as he shows off his art collections that hang on the wall. the boy has an affinity for art, you find out. at some point, they come across yuuji playing the piano rather beautifully in the parlor, and nobara disbands from the tour to go listen to yuuji playing. eventually, you find yourself at the library with choso. it is a tall room in the middle of the manor, with books lining every corner of the room. some old, some new, and others clearly loved. at one end, a window covers the entire wall, looking out onto the gardens. 

“kento's collection.” choso says with a smile, “he has been collecting since …” he trails off, “since he was a boy.”

“it’s beautiful.” you murmur. it’s true. in the spaces where there are not books, there are beautiful paintings, depicting nature at its finest. landscapes with flowers, oceans with boats floating atop them, and in the middle, the centerpiece, a garden filled with an assortment of gorgeous flowers. 

your eyes wander around the room. his collection rivals your own back at the estate, and you’re surprised that someone would have more books than your father. 

“this must have cost a fortune.” your hands run across some of the books nearest to the door. these are the ones that look as though they were brought recently, and you notice a copy of a book you own on the shelf. 

“kento has a way with words,” choso chuckles, “half of these, actually–, most likely more–, were bartered or traded.” 

you hum. “i will agree. though, not positively.” you smiles, “your guardian shared some… choice words towards me regarding a dance last night.”

“did he say something of offense?” choso frowns, “my apologies. my guardian is, well, not the best, i shall say, at using his words properly, despite his affinity for writing. i am sure he did not mean it.”

you don’t want to hurt this poor boy’s opinion of his guardian, and so you keep your mouth shut. “i will take your word for it, choso.” you pull out a book, caressing the pages carefully in your hands. the smell of old book hit your nose and you felt as though you were back at home in your father’s library.

“if you would like, i can leave you here until dinner. i am sure kento will not mind. he never really comes out from the study any way, so you will be completely undisturbed.”

twice now, the boys have mentioned kento's frequent absence. 

you ponder it for a moment, before smiling and nodding. “that would be wonderful. thank you for your hospitality, choso.”

“it is my pleasure, miss.” he gives you a bow, and shuts the door softly, leaving you to explore the room on your own.

you immediately head towards the couch situated by the window. there are books stacked upon the floor and on a nearby table, and you step around them carefully so as to not disturb them.

a book at the top of a stack by the couch peaks your attention. it's worn and has obvious signs of wear, but that only warms your heart as it means the book has been loved. you grab it, immediately becoming immersed.

you don’t notice when the door opens, and watching you curiously from the doorway is kento himself. 

leaning against the doorframe, he clears his throat. “and may i ask what you are doing in my personal library?” he looks a lot more relaxed than he did at the ball last night and you cannot tell if it is his attire or the fact that he is simply in his own home. he's dressed casually, with his sleeves rolled up and his shirt untucked. his hair is slightly messy, and he's got a pair of round glasses on. despite your dislike for the man, you think he looks quite handsome.

“oh, mr. nanami.” you close the book carefully, setting it to the side, “my apologies. i did not mean to intrude. lord gojo invited my cousin and i over for dinner but he had some work. choso showed me around the manor and told me i could stay if i wanted. if you would like me to go though, i will.” you stand, smoothing out your dress, but he shakes his head.

“no, it is quite alright. you may stay.” he leans off the wall and shuts the door carefully behind him. “it was simply unexpected. that's all. i am not used to having visitors who are interested in my library.” as he approaches you, he notices the book in your hands. “you have a fondness for poetry?” 

“i do.” you smile, “i do not write myself– - no i could not use such eloquent words–, but i cannot help but enjoy them.” 

“one of my favorites too.” he murmurs, bending down to grab the book you were reading off of the couch. 

“i could tell. it is well-loved. you ought to buy yourself a new copy, mr. nanami.” you laugh lightly, “the words are fading.”

“do not tell me what to do with my own possessions. you have no right.” his head snaps up, “i have changed my mind. take your leave.” his voice is rigid and there’s a palpable anger behind his words.

“i- my apologies, mr, i-”

“out. i am not asking.” he orders, pointing a finger towards the door. 

“i am sorry.” you mutter once more, before practically flying out of the room. the door shuts with a thud and he closes his eyes, biting his lip as hard as he can. he thinks he tastes blood. 

he sinks onto the couch with the poetry book gripped tight in his left hand. with a small sigh, he turns the book to the side, running his finger along the barely visible “‘y.h.”’ engraved on the spine. it was so small and so worn out that one wouldn't notice it unless they knew it was there. he blinks away the tears and swallows down a lifetime’s worth of regret, opening the book as his fingers trail along the first stanzas of the first poem. he isn't reading– - he knows this book better than he knows himself– - this book is an extension of himself. he couldn’t ever bring himself to replace it for it would be as if he were replacing his own flesh and blood.

kento is late to dinner but the evident shock at his arrival on both yuuji, choso’s and satoru’s face tells you enough. he spares no one a glance, not even his own wards, and seems ticked off that the conversation at the table dwindled. 

you catch the side glances that yuuji and choso throw at each other, and you turn your body towards nobara, who is seated right beside you.

“he looks miserable.” you remark quietly, shoving the peas on your plate to the side. you were not a fan of peas, nor kento, but you would have to tolerate both it seemed.

“he always looks like that.” nobara replies back smoothly, “in the past four- and- twenty hours we have known him, i do not think i have ever seen a different expression on his face.” you let out a little giggle, turning your attention back to the conversation that was at hand. currently, yuuji was enthralling kento with a story of this young woman he had danced with last night.

“she  was absolutely stunning.” he sighs, “and yet, i am afraid i do not know how to capture her affections.” “what is her name?” kento takes a sip of his wine, cocking his head. “i would like to put a name to the woman you have not quit babbling about.” “yuko.” even saying the name causes the boy’s face to erupt in a smile, and you cock your head. “yuko?” you hum, “i have a friend named yuko about your age. say, i think your beloved yuko might also be mine.” “really?” his eyes sparkle, “you are friends with my dear yuko?” he gives you a quick description of the girl, and upon confirmation that they indeed share the same yuko, he leans in to the table. “do you know what she likes? what can i do to gain her admiration? what do you recommend to gain one’s affections?” 

“dancing.” your eyes flit quickly to kento who lets out an unamused snort. you were not going to remark, but his reaction irked you. “even if one’s partner is a discourteous soul.” 

“and what if one’s partner is just barely tolerable?” kento places his fork down, giving you a nasty look.

“well then,” you clears your throat, “everyone has their own interpretation of ‘barely tolerable’ and mine is sitting in front of me.”

satoru clears his throat, the tension between the two of them becoming suffocating. “well,” he smiles, “maybe you should call upon yuko tomorrow. invite her to dinner. and you, of course,” he turns to you, “are welcome to come tomorrow as well, since you are acquainted with yuko. oh, and your cousin as well!” 

“i appreciate the invite, my lord,” you wipe off your face with a small napkin that was provided, “but it seems as if i am an unwanted guest. i would absolutely hate to intrude on the itadori’s’ home for yet another anotyour day, especially considering the animosity i have been shown by their guardian.” you smile sweetly towards kento, who feels his chest constrict. “i would be delighted to have dinner again with you though, and so i am instead offering to return the favor and host you, yuko, yuuji and choso at my home tomorrow.”

the fact that you purposefully left him out causes kento to slam his fork down in anger. the plate rattled, and he nearly tips over his wine glass. “you are in my home, and i will not stand for your intolerance. i do not care if you are a guest under satoru–- you will respect me.” his voice is low and he is looking at you with a look his wards haven't seen since they were entrusted into his care.

you scoff, “i refuse to show respect to someone who has treated me with such contempt. i have been nothing but courteous to you, and yet you still find it in yourself to be ill-mannered. bless satoru’s soul because quite honestly, i am shocked you even have friends.”

“you are undermining me in my own home, and i do not appreciate it.” he hisses, “you become upset at my rejection, intrude upon my own personal library, and then proceed to invite every person i hold dear to me and exclude me.”

“i undermine you?” you laugh dryly, your eyes squinting at him, “you are delusional. you are the one who sits here and belittles everything i say, even if not directed towards you. though,” you stand, smoothing down your dress, “i suppose it is to make up for your lack of charm. lord gojo,” you bow, “i really do appreciate your hospitality. the same goes for you two,” you gives a soft smile to the boys, “but unfortunately, i am incredibly uncomfortable. nobara and i will be leaving now. thank you though, and my offer for tomorrow still stands.” nobara scrambles to bow to them, and you both leave. you waste not another glance at kento, your chest full and clenched with anger.

“i have plenty of charm, i just do not wish to waste it on a woman as average as you.” he shouts after you. as your footsteps recede, he shoves his own chair into the table, causing it to shake, and he retreats to his office, his fists clenched at his side.

the manor door closes noisily, and in the aftermath of their altercation everyone remaining at the table heard the slam of his study door and the simultaneous rumbling of your carriage pulling away out of the roadway. 

“i have lost my appetite.” yuuji mumbles, “please excuse me.” yuuji quietly tucks in his chair and leaves the room.

“as have i.” choso follows, leaving satoru alone in the dining room by himself. 

there’s a silence that follows, one that satoru does not like. satoru does not like silence much to begin with, but this one is heavier. this one was a direct cause of his actions. he leaves the dinner table, choosing instead to retire to his room for the night. in all his years of friendship, he has never seen kento so upset with a person, and he would hate to continue distressing his friend, especially considering the hardships the man is facing. on the other hand, there was a look in kento’s eyes that he could not place. it wasn’t hatred or disdain, and it bewildered the hell out of satoru. he saw the same look in your eyes too.

last night at the ball, you weren’t walking over to talk to him. no, of course you weren’t. his friend was spacing out and staring off into the distance, and when he followed his eyes, they were fixated on you. you were looking back at him with the same intensity, and then, both of their attentions were grabbed and pulled away. satoru noticed, how despite the many beautiful girls approaching kento, that his eyes kept wandering to that shadow, silently pleading for it’s attention. twenty minutes later, it was gone from the wall, and another two after that, satoru caught you from falling.

satoru had known from the very start that you were not into him and that your affections lay with kento. everything he had done was calculated from the minute he had asked you to dance. positioning you in kento’s line of sight so you could see each other while you danced, asking you to come over for dinner, and even choso’s manor tour. he’d specifically instructed choso to take you to the library and leave you there, as he knew midday was when kento decided to leave his office and head there. 

he had everything planned out perfectly. what he hadn’t counted on though, was kento’s pure stupidity. 

upon being seated in his office chair, kento picked up a quill, shuffling through the stacks of paper as he searched for a blank one. there, he scrawled a journal entry. his friend, haibara, had suggested a journal back when kento was a teen, though he’d had filled the pages of the journal haibara gifted him long ago. 

his journal was normal teen angsts that he entered in frequently,  but nowadays, his entries were far and few between, scribbled upon waste paper scrambled on his messy desk and then shoved into the bottom drawer, never to be read again. 

his quill moved faster than the words could process in his brain. kento had not felt any emotion in a long time, and now this girl–, you–, had brought upon more than he knew how to deal with. his eyes droopy and tired, kento abandoned the page as he stumbled his way up to the bed, disregarding his formal wear and simply passing out on his bed. 

surprise is kento’s first thought of the day -  most nights are spent pouring over documents and estate affairs in his office. most nights are spent half-slumped into his office chair until he hears yuuji and megumi chasing each other around the halls. but tonight, he'd woken up in his own bed, so he decides to savor it, before he must get up and bear the responsibility of his world on his shoulders. 

it’s then, when kento is enjoying the feel of his downy mattress and not of his hard wooden chair, that it gets sent. satoru  hadn’t planned to find his note, truly. he had gone into the office to wake kento up as he had done every morning he stayed with the itadori’s’ and when he opened the door, there was no kento. 

he was gone. and so satoru walked over to the desk, his eyes squinting at a note written on yellowing and half-ripped paper. it was in kento’s messy chicken-scratch, and after a quick read, satoru shoved it in his pocket anyways and exited the room, sealing it with the itadori family crest and sending it off with the rest of the post for the morning.

you receive the letter mid-day during your afternoon tea with nobara. the two of you hadn’t spoken about the quarrel between your and kento, and you were grateful for it. nobara instead spoke about her suitors, providing you a nice distraction from the anger, and slight regret, that bubbled in your chest.

“a letter for the miss.” your butler states, entering the room. it’s placed on the table next to you, and you pick it up gingerly, frowning at the state of it.

“if it could even be called that.” you mumble, “the paper is eons old.” you recognize the crest immediately, as it had been adorned around the manor you had spent time at yesterday. an ugly feeling claws its way up your throat.

“what is it?” nobara peers curiously, but you hold it away, hoping that satoru had just used their stationary and that it was not a letter from kento.“hey!” “give me a moment, i am reading, nobara.” you hiss out as you run your fingers along, squinting to read the handwriting. 

it has been ages since i have written, and unfortunately, as all others, .i am writing in a state of great frustration and  vexation. her recent behavior has been most unbecoming, and i cannot help but feel incensed by her actions. how could she be so rash... so .. thoughtless in her choice of words? i suppose she has every reason to, though. i have not been the kindest man. then again, when have i ever? 

and yet, despite this soul-encompassing anger, there is a sense of admiration. i cannot tell if it is admiration for her sheer audacity, or admiration for the lady herself. her fiery spirit and unyielding determination are truly remarkable, and i cannot help but be drawn to such a force of nature, as much as i would like to deny it. 

perhaps it is my own stubbornness that blinds me to the true nature of my feelings, but it is becoming harder and harder for me to fight the notion that there is an underlying sense of attraction that persists. there is just some thing about the way that she carries herself. despite almost every interaction we have had being negative, i have left each one with a tightening feeling in my chest. 

i believe it is regret. it’s a feeling i am used to these days. the other night i could not sleep, how could i? i’ve treated her with such disdain that if my mother were still alive im sure she'd scold me. 

yet i cannot stop thinking of moments ago. it was the way she simply just disrespected me in my own home, without a care in the world, and looked so utterly ethereal doing it. her beauty makes me stupid and loose with my tongue.

she insulted me and she did it with grace and a bewitching voice. there is just something about that girl that i cannot forget and i -

it cuts off there, the quill mark running off the page indicating that his hand had slipped. without another word, you fold the letter, holding it neatly in your hand as you walk out of the manor, ignoring nobara’s calls. 

the itadori manor was across town, about thirty minutes walking. you had left without a coat and it was cold, but you pursued on, the hand holding the paper trembling. you needed an answer.

you made the walk in twenty and your knuckles rapped upon the door loudly. a butler opened and after a quick explanation of your business, you made your way to kento’s office. you slammed open the door and surprisingly, based on the way the boys speak of him, he was not in his office.

you were going to talk to him one way or another, and you wandered your way around the manor, angrily stomping. it was only when you’d made your way back to his office that you bumped into him. he had clearly just woken up and had haphazardly dressed himself. his hair was messy and he looked sleepy, but you did not care that you were probably going to bother.

“what is your issue?” you hiss, stepping towards him. “have i done something to offend you? am i just that awful of a person that you deem it necessary to toy with me?” “what- what are you talking about?” he sighs, running a hand through his messy hair, “and why is my office door open? was this you?” you ignore the question, instead unfolding the paper from it’s crumpled home in your pocket. “perhaps it is my own stubbornness that blinds me to the true nature of my feelings, but it is becoming harder and harder for me to fight the notion that there is an underlying sense of attraction that persists.” you read, your voice wavering not once despite the shaking of your limbs and your heart.

his own heart stops. it stops beating completely and kento is pretty sure that this is what death feels like. “how did you get that?” his lip wavers, despite the rigid tone that escapes his mouth. “where did you get that from?”

“oh so now you are playing games with me?” you scoff, throwing your hands in the air, “seriously! you are a joke, kento nanami.” “is that why my office was open?” his eyes squint, and he looks terrified for a moment at his next thought. “did you go through my things?” “of course not! you sent this to me, did you not? stamped with the itadori seal, am i wrong?” you shove it in his face and you’re right, of course. the letter is stamped. “i am just wondering. why? why me? why did you choose to amuse yourself by picking on me? there are so many other women who would die for any attention given by someone of your stature, and yet you choose to belittle me!”

“it was not my intention, you have to believe me.” he sighed, adjusting the glasses that sit low on his nose, “i might as well be honest.” he clenches a hand by his side before taking a breath. “the first good thing you have done ever.” you scoff, and he bites his lip. he decides looking anywhere but your face would be a better choice at this time, so he settles his eyes on your collarbone.

“i was a fool. i will admit my faults, and there are many–- too many to name. believe me when i say this, i have never been more enchanted to meet a person in all my miserable years. i blundered, my jealousy overcoming me at the sight of you dancing with satoru and i continued to make a laughing stock of myself with each interaction. please, this is no scheme or ploy as you may think, i am genuinely and utterly enamored with you. there is no reason i should have treated you the way i did, but you make me absolutely stupid.” his chest is heaving, and you can see his hands shaking by his side. “please, i know this is sudden, but i would like to court you–-”

“you are a madman.” you whisper, cutting him off. “you are stupider than i thought you were if you think that for one second i am going to believe any display of affection from you, no matter how wordy. you have done nothing but make me feel as though i am nothing to you, and for that, you are the last man on earth i would ever marry. you are arrogant, disrespectful, and most of all, you have no empathy for the feelings of others. i would rather bring shame upon my family before i accept any proposal from you.” 

it’s silent between the two of you. he’s finally made eye contact - and you’re breathing just as heavily as he is. your lips are parted, and so are his, and he is fighting the urge to lean in right then and there.

the moment is ruined when you crumple the note in your hand and place it on his chest. he comes up to grab your hand, holding it close to his chest as he grabs the paper. his hands are warm, and they fit perfectly around yours. you both realize it. 

part of him hopes that you will take back your words, but it is far too late for that. it was too late for him the minute you asked him about dancing. 

“have a good life, lord nanami.” you say nothing else, dropping your hand and turning on your heels away from him. 

he takes a step. kento wonders if you would take him if he chased after you and begged you on his hands and knees. 

it’s silent after that. his ears are ringing and his chest is hot and burning in the spot where your hand just rested. he feels his heart sink to his stomach, a feeling he hasn’t felt in years. it’s not disappointment and it’s not regret - it’s a yearning and a longing for something he won’t ever have. 

he needs to talk to his friend. it’s not a want, but a need. his friend would know what to do. he always did. within fourty minutes of your departure, the boys, satoru, and kento have packed up, abandoning the manor as quickly as they came.

the boys were quite prepared as they knew their guardian so well. it was not the first nor the last time that their guardian would relocate them in hopes of escaping whatever it is he seems to be running from. they had not even unpacked their bags, simply shoving the necessities back in and looking solemnly as kento took his own horse, not even riding with them. 

kento arrives far earlier than the carriages do and without another word, he hands off the horse to a housemaid and stalks off. he does not care that he has not eaten today or that it looks like it is going to rain; he needs to talk his friend. 

when kento was thirteen, he and his friend explored the woods behind their house together in an attempt to soothe kento's fear of the woods. for as long as he could remember, kento always had a fear of the unknown, and the sprawling landscape behind their house certainly did not help.

kento entered the woods hand in hand with haibara. haibara was explaining the different trees and flowers they saw, right until they stumbled across a small clearing, barely big enough for an outdoor lunch. it was right off the beaten path and was only a five minute walk from the forest entrance. 

he remembers being excited that this was the only spot not covered with grass - as there was only a small little circle sprawling with magnolia flowers. his friend said that it was beautiful that in the woods kento had found so scary there was a small, serene place with beautiful flowers. 

“if you had not come in here with me, neither of us would have stumbled upon this.” haibara had smiled up at him that day, “see, kento? there is beauty in this forest you fear.”

kento laughed and called it cliche and predictable, but now as he sits in front of haibara's grave in the middle of these magnolia flowers, he knows his friend lied. there has been no beauty in anything since his friend died, and everything to him has been unknown. kento’s been living in fear. 

upon entering the tiny field, there was one stone carving in the middle. kento sits right next to it, pulls his knees to his chest, and despite the neck pain that ached, he placed his head on the stone.

“hello, my friend.” kento begins, “i am sorry i was gone for so long. we went up into the town for the spring season. it was all satoru’s idea of course, you know him, and the boys were excited– - so i had to. i have done nothing but disappoint them and i hoped i would regain their favor by bringing them to the ton.” he sighs, his breath shaking. “i met a girl there. she is intelligent and gorgeous and kind. i know, i know, i always told you i would never marry and i would travel the world alone and explore. since you- since you left, i have had to reconsider. the itadori’s’ were placed in my care and .. and so- so, i thought it would be a good idea to socialize and get myself out there. i will need a wife eventually.” his voice cracks, and kento removes his head from the stone placing it in his knees as he cries. “the first time i met her, she was standing on the wall and she looked so, so beautiful, but of course-” he lets out a hiccuping sob, “she was not interested in me. who would be?” he laughs dryly, “i was… upset, and i said somethingsome thing that i did not mean and my pride would not allow me to apologize. the next time i saw her, she had your book in your hands. your favorite. sometimes i wonder why we did not bury you with it. i saw her and i got upset and i insulted her and at dinner i did it again. then, i confessed to her and she rejected me, and god, it is the worst emotion i have felt since you died. i feel sick and it hurts and i just,” he whimpers, “i just wish you were here still, haibara.” 

there is silence. of course there is. he is talking to a stone.

“i really, really messed it up, and i wish i could take it all back because she is absolutely wonderful.” he sighs, “of course, it is much too late for that.” still, silence. “i must get going, there is much to do.” he stands up and sighs, wiping the tears from his eyes quickly. “i will come to visit you again soon.”

true to his word, kento visits his friend everyday for the next week. some days he talks to him and tells him how choso and yuuji are doing, others he sits there and cries, and few times he has brought paper out to write.

there are hundreds of speeches he has written out and almost sent to you, expressing himself, and all of them have ended up crumpled and thrown into the trash. you asked him to leave you alone, and as much as it is killing him, he would rather die lonely than face any sort of argument with you again.

he decides he needs a weekend away, so after packing his bags and leaving the boys in the care of satoru, he sets off to a small cabin his father owned in the woods not too far from the estate. far enough that he'll be left alone, but close enough that if needed, he can return within a day.

yuuji, yearning for yuko, sends a letter the week before kento leaves. it asks her to come over, and yuko would have agreed almost immediately if not for the fact that she needs a chaperone.

you refuse immediately. “no, yuko, my answer is final. i refuse to visit the itadori’s’. please, forgive me.”

“please, friend.” she pleads, “no one else is available and yuu said that kento would be going on vacation! you would not even have to deal with him, please.”

“you are sure kento will not be there?” you raise a brow, the idea becoming a bit sweeter now that kento is not there.

“i swear. look.” she holds out yuuji’s letter, pointing out where he mentions kento’s absence. 

yuko’s eyes brim with hope as you reconsider. “fine. i will go with you, but just for the weekend.”

you arrive friday evening, when the sun has set and dinner has been served. kento had just left that morning according to the boys, so you will be free of him and his incessant behavior.

some small part of you ached though, for their constant bickering. the look in his eyes when he'd told you he loved you has haunted you, and caused many sleepless nights.

 you’re beginning to wonder if you had made the wrong decision. 

he was wealthy, sure, but one could tell he cared for his wards. he was intelligent and he had an affinity for the arts, and was well-spoken. but does any of that really outweigh his behavior? you wonder.

it was as if your thinking about kento summoned him. 

“oh. hello.” his voice sounds strained and you turns around to find kento standing there, his fists clenched at his side. “i was unaware you would be here.”

“i did not mean to intrude. yuuji and choso told me that you were gone for the weekend. i will make haste and leave as soon as i can.” you stand up, dusting off your dress. “my apologies, mr. nanami.”

“kento.” he clears his throat, “please. just call me kento. you do not have to leave, either. i was going for a walk around the grounds before i retreat to my office. i will be out of your way, as per your wish.” he takes a small bow, refusing to meet your eyes. “it's.. pleasure … it's a pleasure to see you again.” he stutters, and then turns away quickly.

“mr. nana–- kento.” you reach out to tap his shoulder, and the jolt through his body does not go unnoticed by you., “may i walk with you?”

he looks nervous, and his eyes flit around. “of course. i was going to.. visit my friend. i am,” he gulps, taking a deep breath, “i am sure he would love to meet you.”

“oh.” you smile softly, “i have not seen him around, though, i have only been here for a day.”

“i have told him much about you.” his voice is soft, as the two of you begin your walk. you are so close in proximity that your hands keep brushing together, and everytime they do, you watch his breathing seize.

you think you have killed him when you grab his hand and he stumbles over his own footing. “we should– - you should not be holding my hand, you are.. you are eligible and i- i am not courting you and–-”

“do you want me to stop?” you ask softly. in response, his hand squeezes yours softly as if to say, ‘please don't let go.’

you walk in a comfortable silence for another couple of minutes, hand in hand, before reaching the small magnolia field. 

“here we are.” he clears his throat, letting go of your hand. “my. .. my friend. i know, it is embarrassing that i speak to a gravestone, but. .. i have no one else to confide in.” he looks for any worry or fear in your face, and he finds nothing. nothing but compassion and kindness.

“i do not think it is silly.” you smile softly, “i think it is perfectly alright. that is your friend, after all.” you crouches down next to the stone, brushing your fingers over his name. “haibara. it is very nice to meet you, mr. haibara. there is no doubt in my mind that you were an excellent man.”

“you are going to dirty your dress.” kento frowns, “you do not have to sit.” his heart is pounding a million miles a minute, and he thinks it could not be any louder. he is sure you can hear it. 

“nonsense.” you smile, waving him off. “it would be rude of me to stand and speak to him.” 

watching your speak to his closest friend’s gravestone with such compassion makes him tear up. he knew that he loved you for a reason, and the fact that you started speaking to haibara with no questions asked simply hammered it home for him.

“i am only here for a day or two more,” kento is thrown out of his thoughts by your voice, “but i must say this estate is lovely. i do not even think my home rivals this.” you laugh, and the sound flutters in his stomach, “it is gorgeous.”

there is silence for a moment as you looks up at kento. he's standing over you with his fists clenched and in near tears and you just shake your head. “you should be very proud of kento.” you says loud enough for him to hear, as you make eye contact with him, “he is doing a wonderful job raising yuuji and choso. you have a wonderful friend.”

kento turns his back from you, but you can see the shaking of his shoulders and hear him clear his throat.. “my apologies, please, excuse me.” he sniffles, “i am a little overwhelmed.”

it hits you now. kento has every reason to be as cynical and as rude as he is– - life has not been goodwell to him. he has grown up without a mother, and halfway through his life his father passed, and then his closest friend. add to that two wards that were thrown on top of his responsibilities and you have one struggling kento nanami.

“he is a wonderful man.” you project your voice so you can still hear him, “and i have been entirely nonsensical about him.” 

“pardon?” his voice cracks, making him cringe, but you still looks at him with that same soft expression. he is glad you cannot see his face right now, for all you would see is his despair. 

“i was wrong about you.” you stand, placing a hand on his shoulder. his back is still turned to you, and you respect his space, staying out of sight. “i was entirely wrong.” 

he closes his eyes and prays– - prays that this means what he thinks it does. “three words from you will silence me forever.” he whispers brokenly, “if you are not going to say it and mean it, please, just say it once so that i may replay it in my head for when you are gone.”

“i cannot.” his shoulders fall and his stomach sinks. you slides your hand down his arm to reach his hand, and  you squeeze. “i refuse to be the first time i declare my affections for you to be said to your back.”

he whips around almost immediately, and standing on your tiptoes, you cups his face with both of your hands. your thumbs wipe the tears from underneath his eyes.

“hello, handsome.” you smile and his head leans into your hand as he laughs with a little sniffle. “your smile suits you. i wish i could see it more often.”

he tries to duck his face away where you cannot see but you keeps it sturdy in your hands. “do not shy away from me, i want to see your face. there you are.” you smiles., “i apologize for my misunderstanding of your character. i said some harsh things that i am realizing now that i did not mean, and i am hoping you could forgive me. i am pleading.”

“you do not have to apologize. ever. it is my fault for being immature. my answer remains the same as it did a few weeks ago– - if you will have me, then i will be yours. no-now, and forever.” he rushes his words and you let go of his face with a nod and he blinks at you, his face swelling with joy. 

“it is a deal, then.” you laughs, “forever is quite a long time though, kento. 

“it will not be nearly enough time for me to spend with you. there will never be enough time.” he lifts your chin up to look at you. “god, you were plucked out of my dreams and put into my arms. i am the luckiest man on earth.”

you swat his arm gently., “you are magnificent with your words when they are not shooting to kill,.” you say lightly. your cheeks are beginning to hurt from smiling, but you do not care.

“my words will be soft and sweet for you, always,.” he tucks a piece of hair behind your ears, “from this point on.”

“i was just about to mention how they have not been in the past.”

“and for that, i will spend the rest of my life making it up to you.” he kisses your hand, and keeps eye contact the entire time. “every minute of every day. i love you.” 

there it was.

“i love you,” he kisses your knuckles, “i love you,” he kisses your palm, “i love you,” up your arm, “i love you,” on your left cheek, “i love you,” right cheek, “i love you,” nose, “i love you.”

and finally, his hands coming up to cradle your head, he presses a promising kiss to your lips.  “i love you. forever.” 

[clonerightsagenda]

It's a shame my boss is a library director and not the proprietor of one of those jampacked used book shops where nobody ever buys anything because she clearly just wants to accumulate things en masse but doesn't really want anyone to use them and doesn't take care of them. This includes telling us we can't circulate the juvenile fiction collection because the titles are "priceless" and "irreplaceable" (they are not. they're Newberry award winner paperbacks) but she doesn't care that the shelf is pointed straight toward a bank of huge windows and the books have been cooked to the point their covers are disintegrating. Also I spent several weeks this year explaining vinegar syndrome to her and getting it through her head that the microfilm she hoards in the warmest rooms in the building is actively self-destructing, and when I finally convinced her to let me weed the most damaged acetate and reassured her that other institutions like the historical societies do a better job of preserving newspapers anyway, a community college does not need thousands of reels our students are not using, she very earnestly asked me if I thought the historical societies knew about this "dangerous problem". Yes I promise the historical societies know about vinegar syndrome.

[kteezy997]

Lady in Waiting-Part 12//King Hal

Warnings: mention of sex

A few weeks later…

You sat in the palace library with Hal, curled up in the lap of the King as he read aloud from a historical story.

The both of you cupped your slightly rounded belly. You relaxed your head against his chest. His voice was soothing as he read, you closed your eyes, thinking you would be lulled to sleep at any moment.

A few moments after closing your eyelids, you heard him say, "Well, if I am putting you to sleep, I cannot imagine what I am doing to the baby." he sighed.

"Oh Hal," you opened your eyes, looking up at him as you touched his face, "the baby does not care, as long as they hear their daddy's soothing voice, they are happy."

"You do not think a King will be too boring as a parent?" he asked, not shying away from being vulnerable with you.

"Of course not!” you tucked your finger onto his chin, making him look you in the eyes. “This child will be delighted to learn from their father and their king. You are so dear Hal, you will always be there for them and they will love you no matter what."

He hummed with a gleeful grin, rubbing your stomach. He kissed your firmly on the temple, "I cannot wait to meet him or her. I hope they are just like you, and I shall fall in love with them the same way."

You snuggled him closer, taking the fabric of his lightweight cloak into your fist. “And I hope they are strong and intelligent, like their father.”

“You flatter me too much, my sweet girl.” he leaned in, kissing your lips this time. “We should retire for the evening. You will need rest, especially after a round of lovemaking.” he smirked cheekily at you before rising up from couch you were sharing.

Your heart sank a little, having to tell him the news from the doctor. “Oh Hal, about that… we really should not take part in intimacy, not like that anyway.”

The King blinked a few times, confused, “What? Why?”

“The doctor said he would not recommend it during the pregnancy. ‘It is such a fragile time for a woman’, he said.”

“But I would be most gentle.” he cooed, moving toward you, taking your hands into his.

You blushed, even after everything you had been through together, he still had the ability to make you feel weak in the knees. "I know you would." you squeezed his hands, "But let's talk about this later. I want to get some sleep, I wish to speak with the Queen tomorrow." You dropped one of his hands and tucked your fingers into the laces of his other hand to lead him to your bedchambers.

"Hm." he hummed, "Are you sure that the timing is right, my love?"

"I think so. We have to try at some point.”

.........

The next morning, you knocked on Queen Sophia's door.

"Enter!" she called.

You pushed the door open, smiling softly at her as you stepped into her room with light caution. You did not expect objects to be flung at you, but you did not expect the warmest of welcomes either. "Hello, Your Grace."

"Oh, y/n." she answered, smiling back at you.

"Is it alright if I come in?"

"Yes, of course, please." she said calmly, gesturing for you to have a seat on her bed as she was sat down at her vanity.

You smoothed the back of your dress as you sat down and placed your hands on your lap. Clearing your throat, you started, "Sophia, I am forever sorry for hurting you the way I did."

"I know you are, y/n. But there is no reason to apologize anymore. I understand." she was shockingly calm.

"What do you... understand?" you frowned.

"You and I have been intertwined for a long time. And it's taken these last few weeks for me to realize how much I have taken you for granted. So it is I who should apologize to you. I am sorry for not treating you better all these years.”

You sighed, shaking your head, "It is okay."

"What I understand, is that you love him. That he is the only thing you have ever had that is just yours. It is a special thing, and I am happy for you."

"Thank you, Sophia. That means so very much to hear it from you." you wanted to touch her hand, to let her feel your warmth, but you kept still for now.

"You deserve happiness, more than anyone I know. Old Lady Agnes has been helping me these last few weeks, doing handmaiden things.” she shrugged, “And I have realized that it was never really about fixing my hair or picking my dresses, but it was you. You were a friend to me, a confidant, when I really did not deserve one." It was difficult for Sophia to say, she looked down at her lap.

You felt sad for her, remembering that you really cared for her as well. You sniffed, and touching her shoulder you said, "Everyone deserves a friend."

The Queen blinked back tears as she stood, opening up her arms for an embrace.

You obliged, standing as well and hugging her for the first time ever. It was soft, warm, and absolutely genuine. "Oh, my Queen. Could we be friends, do you think?"

"Yes, I would love that.” she pulled away from the embrace, holding onto your upper arms, “We can do everything we used to do, but you would not be my servant." she pulled away from the hug, clapping her hands together and grinning from ear to ear, "Oh this is going to be such fun! I promise there will be no jealousy. I want you and Hal to be happy. I think your child will be such a blessing.”

Smiling, you added, “I hope you will soon have a blessing of your own.”

.........

You felt so happy and warm on the inside, finally resolving with Sophia.

“Is there a reason I did not see you all day long? And why are you smiling like that, my love?” Hal questioned as you readied for bed.

“I had a great day with Sophia.” you answered.

“Oh? Good, so what has she been doing with her time? Has she gone to the children’s shelter?”

“Yes! She said she has and it has really opened her eyes. You know, she has never really known what life is like out there, beyond living in a castle. She has gotten to know some of the children there. Some of them have lost both parents, so she dotes on them, she hugs them tighter than the rest. She longs to be a mother, I know she does, Hal.” you looked at him, seeing him nod softly.

Your King took a moment to think, sitting on the bed, he asked, “Do you think I should offer myself to her?”

“Offer yourself?” you laughed, “Like a servant?” You walked over in front of him, kneeling down, touching his legs. You sighed, “Maybe you could talk to her about giving her a baby soon. Tomorrow, perhaps.”

You felt the smooth brush of his palm on your cheek as he rested his hand there. “Alright. But I need you first.”

@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @softhecreator @tchalamss @lixzey @bitchyunknownuser @ducktapebar @aoi-targaryen @yukideadinside @elloise0 @thatoneweirdgirl17 @mel-vaz @sammy-halpert @iwishchalamet @that-one-fangirl69 @jindongdongie @briefkittenearthquake @imnotoverlyobsessive

[yellow-the-monster-girl]

It's late at night and Dr. Etta Gray is feeling more productive than ever. The library is quiet, almost eerily, but she's used to it. She glides over to an old typewriter, a sheet of paper still in it. An almost finished work of many nights - but with any luck, tonight it will by done.

---

It's late at night and Cassius Dracula Jr. has just finished preparations for the ritual. He still has to wait for midnight.

He forces himself to take a deep breath to calm a little. It doesn't work. After all, summoning is hard and summoning Shades is among the hardest. The most dangerous. But he needs that scroll translated. There is only one being who knows Old Carcosan and is willing to help a vampire - and she is a Shade.

That's all he knows about her.

Cassius glances at a giant grandfather-clock near the corner. Thirty minutes to midnight.

---

Thirty minutes to midnight, the young scientist is on a roll. It's a good night today, Etta thinks as her fingers ghost over tiny letters, checking for any errors. There are none. There aren't ever any, but Etta, diligent in her work, always checks anyway.

She pulls the paper out and tries to sign it, but when she reaches for the pen, her hand passes through it. She curses under her breath and takes a moment to regain a solid form. A moment of hesitation before she grabs the pen again. She signs herself as Dr. Gray - and exhales, content.

Etta sets a new blank sheet of paper into the typewriter and checks her phone. Five minutes to midnight. The night is still young. Enough time to work on the next project.

---

Five minutes to midnight, the vampire boy is on edge like never before. What if it doesn't work? What if the Shade is evil? What if..?

He stares at the clock, biting his already short nails. What did the book say?

Place offering in the middle of the symbol.

What kind of monster requests caramel latté as an offering for summoning? Who knows? Certainly not Cassius, who swears he will get a new coffee machine tomorrow. With a warm cup of the best latté the old one could muster, he picks up the book again.

Recite spell precisely at midnight.

Five seconds. Four. Three...

---

On her way for her second coffee, Etta is suddenly intangible again. She hates when that happens. At least she wasn't holding the cup yet.

There's a familial tingle in the air. Electricity. But - but the lightst are all off and so is her phone, so what could- Oh no.

She tries as she might to solidify again. Nothing. In fact, she can see the edges of her own body blurring further and further and...

No no no no no!

She wanted to work on that project, dammit!

---

Cassius is prepared. Every possible reaction the Shade could have, he had accounted for. As he recites the spell, something in front of him darkens, until it takes a vaguely humanoid shape and speaks...

"Whoever you are, fuck you."

Every possible reaction, except this one.

"Uhh... Hello? Sorry?" he tries while mentally panicking and searching his brain for something appropriate to say. No reaction from the Shade.

"Did you seriously summon me on a Friday?" she asks with a sigh.

With no face to read, Cassius can't tell if she's mad or just annoyed.

"I, uh, need a scroll translated..."

---

Etta looks around the room, taking in the details. Ugly-as-hell wallpaper. Ritual symbol on the table, one used in summonings. She stifles a laugh - the runes are all butched up. In the center lies an offering - hope it's not blood or organs or such - YES! It's COFFEE! A small victory.

Then there's the man, young and distinctly vampiric.

"I, uh, need a scroll translated..."

His voice is intriguing from a purely scientific standpoint. He must be newly turned or else has kept up with modern slang extremely well. Slight Elvish accent - definitely modern Moon Elvish. He must've lived in Mist Valley for a time-

No! Etta abruptly shuts up her inner linguist. He needs a scroll translated. He actually meant to summon her.

"And you couln't've picked someone not drowning in works-in-progress?"

He opens his mouth to answer, but she won't let him.

"I mean, I'll do it, but - coffee first."

---

The Shade reaches for the cup, but again her fingers pass directly through it. Cassius feels a small knot of worry in his stomach. He tries an apologetic smile.

On one hand, he should be relieved. He'll be getting his translation, after all. But when he watches her struggle with the cup, he feels everything else but relief.

"Um, miss-"

"Doctor," she corrects him with a slight head-tilt. "Dr. Etta Gray."

Cassius only blinks in confusion.

"Sorry - Dr. Gray - I'm Cassius, by the way - I just wanted to ask - do you need help with that?"

He points at the coffee and wonders if this happens to her often. She lets out a sigh.

"It's the electricity. It makes it hard to hold a solid form."

"Sorry?"

Cassius isn't quite sure what to do, switch off the lights and light up... candles or something? As soon as he does, the Shade - no, Dr. Gray - Dr. Gray solidifies into a distinct form - hey, she has a face now!

---

Etta brings the cup to her newly formed lips and takes a sip - it tastes so good.

"Great coffee," she smiles at Cassius, before setting it on the table again. "So where's the scroll?"

Amused, she watches his eyes go wide.

"Oh! Right!"

He runs out of the room and returns with an old, tattered scroll in his left hand.

"Apparently it's supposed to be in Old Carcosan, but like, I don't know."

Old Carcosan?

OLD CARCOSAN?!

"Sit down," Etta commands the young man, barely containing her own excitement. With a grin on her lips she delves into the text. No, her inner linguist won't shut up now.

---

Cassius sits on the couch and listens to Dr. Gray's barely restrained excitement. The poor woman is practically vibrating.

"It's definitely an old variant of Carcosan, though this one seems influenced by one other eldritch language, one spoken primarily on Yhtil - oh, could this scroll be from the era, when The King In Yellow was first written?"

He shrugs. He's slowly growing tired of answering the same I-don't-knows again and again. Tired and bored. Dr. Gray, it seems to him, is the opposite of bored right now.

"Because that would make it older than anything I've ever studied. It would be fantastic, a breakthrough for linguists AND historians. And mages, likely. It would make this one of the oldest spell scrolls ever, which could..."

As Cassius listens to Dr. Gray, it dawns on him that it's going to be a long, long night.

Visual Writing Prompt #461

[thedungeonbat]

books, books and more books📚

My morning was rather awful as I was so tired I considered skipping first lesson. Got up anyways and attend every single class of that day. Yay :) I’m a bit sceptical of my english teachers approach regarding ‚The Circle‘ by Dave Eggers but to be honest, it can’t get worse than his Shakespeare lessons…

My library shift was unusually quiet today. Did inventory and put all the returned books back into their spot. My old ap english teacher came in to get dictionaries (I’m glad I got rid of a few-) and I had a surprisingly polite fifth grade come in with their teacher to pick up their copies of ‚Tom Sawyer‘, which reminded me of the time I played Huckleberry Finn (yes, Finn played Finn lol) in 8th grade English class. Time flies by…

Now I’m off to dinner and picking someone up from the train station :)

Highlight of the day: small amount of snow that survived the night!!❄️

[manticore-fangs]

boss man schlatt with a free use secretary mmm your workspace is in the same office as his so whenever he gets too frustrated or hell just bored he stalks over to ur desk and just uses ur holes !!

hes pissed at some dick head investor? he just bends you over ur desk and fucks you so over it the desk damn near (or sometimes just straight up breaks hehe you cant even think straight drooling and squealing he's just pulling ur hair slapping ur ass still angrily mumbling about how dumb and stuck up people are

OR OR schlatt bored as hell signing dumb ass papers all day so he crawls under ur desk and starts eating you out <3 bends you so that ur thighs are against your chest and goes to TOWN doing it Entirely for his own pleasure not yours :3 and of course he makes sure you still answer the phone during ur still a secretary! gotta stifle down all of ur whimpers and wailing while having to ask people why they're calling and no schlatt can't come to the phone rn he's just went into a very important meeting so sorry:(

i was never a secretary and hope to never be, i just work at a fuckin' library (its a fun job.) coughs anyways.. i.. fuck this actually made me feel something deep within

first scenario where schlatt just uses you as he pleases, grabs at your neck and just pulls you back against him while he pounds your cunt.. maybe slipping a finger or two into your ass, moving said fingers back and forth. he tsk every time you moan loud, a pout on his face because you cant be loud! "stop being loud toots or im really gonna have to spank that fuckin' ass red." you remember him say to you.

"promise- i wont moan loud-" you somehow manage a sentence with the way he is pounding and forcing you to let these moans. he moves his hand now to your tits and just starts pawing at them, tugging at your nipples and twirling them between his pointer finger and middle finger, he tugs on your boob once more and you cum all over his cock. staining his pants while he manages to pull out and has globs of wasted fertile seed drop to the ground.

or..

schlatt gets a bad deal for something and he just crosses his arms over his chest before he realizes that your literally right there, typing away at the computer. making meetings for mr. schlatt and putting stuff down on his calendar so he knows what is happening one each days and knows the times.

he stalks right on over to you and moves your chair back, you stair right up at him and watch him crawl under the desk. you start stuttering, telling him that he "shouldnt be on the ground mr. schlatt! its quite improper." knowing damn well with what he is about to do.

he almost rips through your pants with the amount of tugging and in general just clawing at your thighs to get the shit off. literally once he sees your cunt he is diving right in, suckling on your clit before licking up your juices that started to drool out from you pussy.

you have your hands ins his hair and just tug on it once in awhile when he starts sucking on your clit, even nipping at it with his teeth- grinding it between them while you just yowl out. he smacks your thigh with his hand, he comes off and scowls at you, slapping your thigh one more time. then the phone rings.

he looks at you and tilts his head to the phone. "answer it doll." you take a deep breath, hovering your hand over the phone and then grabbing it.

[kingofbodyrolls]

heyyy hii !! do you have any recs on jimin focus fic blogs & any recent jimin fics? thank you in advance 💕

Hi sweet anon! 🫂

I do! And sorry for taking so long to get back to you, I know it’s only been like a day, but it took some time to compile this for you, anyway—onto the list and my recs for you! ✨

Jimin focused fic blogs:

@writtenwhalien - just *chef’s kiss* pure talent (she also writes for other than Jimin, but she has a lot of Jimin fics). Link to her masterlist [here] + more of her Jimin fics [here].

@chimmy-licious - reads and reblogs a lot of Jimin fics!

@moonchild1 - not really Jimin focused, but I mention them because they have a vast library for all the members, but here’s their Jimin Library.

@chim-chimmie - writes for all the members, but has a long list of Jimin fics, and also—the writing is just *chef’s kiss*. Here’s a link to Kris’ masterlist [here].

@luaspersona - mentioning Lua because she has a big library (Jimin specific here), she also writes and her masterlist is [here] Her writing is also super amazing and just UGH LOVE (she has one of my favorite Joonie fics!!!).

@jiminniethemarshmallow - I cannot forget my girl Mae!!! Seriously, I think she was one of the first Jimin blogs I discovered back in the day. Amazing. Just, another *chef’s kiss* and the link to her masterlist is [here].

@jimilter - writes for all the members, but their Jimin section is MASSIVE and the writing is another *chef’s kiss*. Link to their masterlist [here].

I think that’s all. At least from the top of my head. I’m so sorry if I forgot someone (please forgive me) 😭

Recent Jimin fics that I haven’t read yet, but I know are great because they are written by amazing authors:

A Lover’s Redemption @writtenwhalien; I still haven’t read it, but BOY do I want to! Also, it’s an ongoing series ✨

If Only It Was You @oddinary4bts; wah, still haven’t read it, but anything my queen Ella writes is just GOLD.

Almost Romantic @kookiewithluv; can’t wait to read!

Shit Happens @smoljimjim ; I know this has a named reader, but please give it a chance! I haven’t read this one yet, but everything else from this lovely author is just so good!!!

Recent Jimin fics from authors I’ve never read from before (I did a search YAY), but the plot seems interesting:

Innocent @anotherbtsffwriter; the plot seems really interesting and I’ve added this one to my trl!

Foreign @anotherbtsffwriter; again, cool sounding plot–so added to my trl.

If Snow Decides to Fall (series) @pjmmania; HELLO?????! Why have I never seen this one before??? LIKE. I don’t understand? It seems really good, so it’s added to my list and it’s a Christmas story too, I think???

The Only Exception (series) @heartforbangtan; again, I must be living under a rock because I haven’t seen this before—but I’ve seen the author! Sounds amazing and is added to my list.

And just because I just released a Jimin fic of my own, I’m dropping it here. So if you haven’t read it yet, and fantasy is your thing, I have a merman story with Jimin [here] 💜

I hope there’s something for you on here to dig into, anon 🫶

Happy reading 💜

[ssasides205]

hate that I keep baiting the vld fandom, but bio-nerd Lance au

it's widely accepted in fandom that Lance's other choice was marine biology (this leads very well into xenobiology, for reasons), so we more or less already think of him as a bio nerd

but I wanna take it all the way, bc I figure that xenobiology probs has crossover with more than just zoology.I don't know you, but I firmly believe aliens could be fungi-creatures, the xenobilogist has to know about mycology, it just makes sense.

so, a combo of several living organism biologies, so other than animals and insects, also plants and fungi as mentioned.

also, it's a fandom thing that Lance worked part-time as a lifeguard, so he def knows first aid, and that got me thinking abt veterinary studies (and the apocalypse, but we're not sitting on that, even if it fits)

and anyway, field scientist Lance, is the idea. Mainly bc I think it's weird that in fics it's always Pidge that does the figuring alien ailments? when she's a tech student?? she might know the basic biology all students had (which space school, science was up there), but it's not her area of study/expertise, let me give it to someone else (Lance)

also, it'd make sense with Hunk always bringing him to the kitchen when they get new ingredients, bc Lance can figure out if they're edible

Lance finding the castle library and getting info on bio stuff from all over the universe bc he's a nerd

they're all nerds, let them be nerds, have them exited abt learnign abt space shit, give them the wonder of discovery

this got away from me and started bc I imagined lance with a microscope looking at the components of the ship's pool to figure out if it was safe for him to swim in. I don't actually know enough abt bio to write this, take it from my hands

[innocentcurse]

Stoker leaned back against the kitchen counter, a small, satisfied grin on his face as he noticed the way Silas’ eyes glossed over during his passionate discourse about hoods. He didn't mind; he knew his brother's brain was probably working in a million other directions, and he wasn’t exactly expecting a dissertation on sweater fashion in return - although he wouldn't have put it past Silas. "You're welcome, anytime," he said with an exaggeratedly chipper tone, only half-joking. "Glad you found my expertise in outerwear so riveting. I'll be here all week."

When Silas mentioned getting an idea to jot down, Stoker wasn't sure if he could believe that the statement was entirely genuine, but he appreciated the effort nonetheless. Maybe if Silas were to pretend hard enough, he'd churn out something great in no time. "Good, good," Stoker said with a knowing nod. "Let me know if you need anything else, like some peace and quiet, a thesaurus, or a joint - anything, really."

"I do," Stoker laughed again. "What kind of name is Bartholomew?" It was a shared tragedy that he knew Silas would understand all too well, the Addam's children sharing a middle name. "Anyway," they shook their head as if to dismiss the thought before they made a large dent in their coffee, finding it to be a drinkable temperature finally. "I'm gonna go throw some clothes on and head out, I think," he stood up straight, stretching his back out before making his way toward his bedroom. "You can call the usual spots if you need to try to find me," spots like the library, or the town hall, or his favourite spot to eat - all information Stoker had given his brother before. "I shouldn't be home too late, though," Stoker had a feeling that after an early morning, he'd want an early night.

Sometimes Stoker and Silas' age gap really jumps out, particularly when it comes to their energy. Silas naturally wakes up much earlier than Stoker, however Stoker seems to be much more energetic after the initial groggyness, whereas Silas is almost perpetually a little bit tired. So, as Stoker talks about their apparently very intricate opinion on sweaters and the relevancy of hoods, Silas' eyes couldn't help but gloss over. "That is a very interesting analysis, thank you for telling me." He hated to give such a half-assed answer, but he just couldn't afford the brain function to give his opinion, which he would definitely have with more energy. Silas notices, day after day, he can't help but further confirm the old allegations.

Silas sat down, listening to Stoker tell him the location of their stationary. Silas wasn't an angry person, he didn't consider himself it at least, but his shortcomings in the quantity of written words over the past years has burnt it's way into a deep, dark section of his heart. Obviously he brought stationary when he went to stay with Stoker, he is a writer for Christ's sake! His stationary probably cost more than everything in this house. Except the weed of course, the only part of Stoker's life they deem a solid investment... no, Stoker is just trying to be helpful. Silas didn't lash out, he thought about it, but he didn't, he didn't even make a face. He understood the difficulty of having someone stay in your house for an extended period, carving a piece of valuable space that could be used for anything else. He knew that Stoker cared, the least Silas could do is not be a dick. "Thank you, I think I am actually getting a pretty good idea I'd like to jot down." He didn't, but hopefully it could ease a small section of Stoker's mind. "You wish careful was your middle name." Silas laughed, he was happy that Stoker could make him laugh.