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melancholiaincarnate · 2 months ago

Text

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.”

#nanami x reader #nanami kento #nanami x you #nanami kento x reader #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #female reader #jjk imagines

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thebenjiblackwoodexpress · 4 months ago

Text

Snow Drop Part. 7

Jacaerys Velaryon x Reader

Description: After Y/N's rejection, Jaecerys fears he has lost his love forever unaware of the true nature of her feelings. Meanwhile Y/N struggles to stay away from The Prince she secretly loves, having faced heartbreak before. Can an overheard conversation get Jace to fight for her love?

Warnings: female reader.

Writer's note: Sorry it's been a while. I had this written ages ago but work and just life in general got in the way of me posting it. Hope you enjoy reading it.

Jacaerys became a ghostly shell of himself in the days that followed his disastrous profession of love to his lady. He rebuked himself for having believed that she could have returned his feelings, having clearly only viewed him as a friend. She was far too beautiful, too sweet, too incomparable. By imposing his affections upon her he had spoiled any chance of remaining in her orbit, even if only in the capacity of a friend. He felt her absence like a cold shard of ice through his heart and sometimes convinced himself that he saw her, as if she were a ghost of a memory dancing in his periphery. Dark circles formed purple bruises under his eyes from lack of sleep and he was unable to lift the feeling of a pressing weight on his heart at all times, as if the wound to it from her rejection was a palpable thing he carried with him always. The pain he felt at the loss of her, both as a friend and as the Princess of his heart would not cause him to intrude upon the distance she had imposed upon him. Nevertheless, he could not resist from leaving snowdrops in books he thought might interest her in the library, leaving them placed on the open pages for her to find. He told himself that such a gesture should not displease her, even if she knew that if was he who left them. She did so love those flowers and he would much rather imagine her delicate fingers brushing the petals of them, than the flowers lying in a forest, unseen by her. He never stayed to see if she would come across his gifts. He had enough strength yet to allow her space away from him, though it pained him to acquiesce to it. The absence of the flower from the page on the morrow was an intimation that she had been there and had cared for his gift, even if she did not care for the sentiments it expressed. Whilst the thought of her touching the flower and being pleased by it gladdened his heart, almost as if she were touching his hand with her own, it also saddened him. His lady disappeared with the morning light just as the flower did; as if she had never existed, except in his mind.

It was with these painful thoughts oppressing him that Jacaerys pressed a kiss to his fingertips and then to the flower he had left open on a book on the history of Targaryen dragons for his lady. The hour was late and he knew he should leave on the chance that she would enter the library and be disturbed at the sight of him, so he turned to leave. He had only begun to walk back to his chambers from the library when, turning the corner, he was met with the at once welcome and alarming sight of his lady. Only too welcome, given how long he had been deprived of the sight of her beauty and sweet presence, but alarming as he noted the tears glistening on her cheeks. Without any forethought, he immediately reached out to her, raising one hand to cup her face, and another to take hold of her elbow, gazing into her eyes with concern.

"My dearest love, what is the cause of your distress? Are you unwell or hurt?"

To his surprise and concern, she only closed her eyes, wincing as if in pain, before attempting to push him away from her. Believing her to be injured, he maintained his hold on her, wrapping an arm around her waist, determined to assess the cause of her pain before he released her.

"I know, I know," he hushed her, "I will release you as soon as you tell me where the pain is. I can only help you if I know what has befallen you."

She pushed his chest halfheartedly with her palms, as if unsure whether she wanted him to release his hold on her or melt into his embrace. Her head fell to rest on his chest, as if in spite of herself, and she mumbled into the velvet fabric of his tunic.

"I hate you for this," tightening her grip on his tunic as she said so, pressing her head more forcefully into his chest.

Jacaerys closed his eyes, wincing himself, as he drew in a sharp breath, her words lancing through him like a knife. It pained him immeasurably to know that she not only did not, and would never, return his love for her, but also that his very presence was so hateful to her. Her tight grip on him, however, convinced him that she still required comfort, so he wrapped her in his arms more securely, rubbing her back up and down tentatively.

He lowered his head to rest upon hers, whispering disconsolately, "I know, I am sorry for it, I will leave you as soon as you are calmer."

To his surprise, she only tightened her grip on him further, crying harder into his chest, so that he began to grow really alarmed. Raising one hand to gently cup her head, he pulled her away from him slightly to look into her eyes.

"Darling, you begin to really alarm me. What can have distressed you so much and how can I remedy it?" he asked frantically. "Has someone harmed you?" he added, his eyes darkening and his voice growing steely as he mentally prepared to dispatch the offender who had upset his Love. When she only shook her head, after returning it to rest against his chest, he tentatively enquired, in a softer voice, conveying his trepidation at her answer, "Is it me that distresses you so, my Love?"

He received his painful confirmation when she released a sob, which caused an acute pain in his chest, believing himself to be the cause, before she forcefully pushed him away from her and ran from him before he could stop her.

Unbeknownst to Jacaerys, his lady was suffering his own absence as acutely as he was hers. Believing that she was doing what was best for them both, she had forced herself to push away the only man she could ever imagine opening her heart to, locking away her own love for him as she did so. Her days had been as equally listless, her nights as sleepless as Jacaerys, overwhelmed by a feeling of loss that his absence filled her with. She was determined, however, to maintain her distance from him, even if the flowers she knew he left for her had her almost breaking her resolve. Each night she would take the flower he had left on the open pages of books he knew would interest her, her heart warming painfully at the thought of his kindness and attentiveness towards her and her interests. She carefully pressed each flower into a book of stories her mother had given her as a child, preserving them as memories of her lost love, telling herself that she could allow herself this one foible. It was the questioning of a maid she had grown friendly with that had caused her to break down into tears. She had good naturedly teased Y/N for her interest in the Price, asking her why she had been avoiding him of late when she had previously seemed so taken with him. Y/N could only take so much of her teasing before her repressed pain brimmed forth in her tears, and she made to seek out the repose of the library, where she could at least feel close to him in remembering the time they had spent together there. She was alarmed to practically run into the arms of the Prince, but found herself unable to release her hold on him as he tried to ascertain the cause for her distress. His tender concern and genuine alarm at her distress only made it that much harder for her to reject his tender touch, as he tried to comfort her, and she found herself unable to release her grip on him. His tentative suggestion that he was the cause of her distress, although not in the way he imagined, and that he should leave her, led her to give into desperate tears, as she held onto him like a lifeline. It was only at his unintentional reminder to herself that it was the impossibility of her being able to return his feelings that led her to push him away from her, though it hurt her to do so. She was pained at the thought that her repeated rejections of his advances caused him discomfort, but she reminded herself that men's love was fleeting and he would recover from them to rule over the Seven Kingdoms, where she could lose all if she gave in.

Several more days had passed, though not without Jacaerys attempting to catch his Love when he passed her down the hallway on his way to the Council room one day. She had quickly sidestepped him when he had attempted to enquire into her wellbeing, and he had forced himself to allow her to walk past him, without any further enquiry on his part. His internal turmoil at the loss of his love and over her own evident distress, which he could not remedy, being the cause of it, continued to manifest itself in outward signs. His mother even began to grow concerned for the state of his health, though he was quick to assure her on the point and to brush away her concern.

Jacaerys now made his way to the library, earlier than he was wont to do, planning on retiring early that evening, if only because the only sight he could now have of his love was in his dreams. He turned behind a book case filled with books on natural history, searching for a book on flowers that his lady had not read, raising his hand to reach for one volume, before the sound of two voices arrested his motion. He stood, frozen in place, as he heard the voice of his Love.

"I won't be long, Margery, I only wanted to find a book I was interested in reading."

A feeling of contentment washed over him at the sound of her voice, although he also knew that the sight of him might startle her from her search, so he resolved to remain where he was until she had collected her book.

"I don't know how you can read so many, it's that Prince of yours whose responsible. You think of nothing else but him."

Jacaerys felt his heart stop at the sound of the maid referring to him as Y/N's Prince. His own heart already belonged to her, but the thought that she might view him as hers had a spark of hope alighting in his heart.

"He is not my Prince, Margery. Don't say such things out loud, someone might hear you and misunderstand. I don't think of him all the time."

He felt the spark of hope diminish as his lady spoke, turning into cinders.

"I'm no fool, Y/N. I've seen the way you both look at each other, like you're the only other person in that one's world. I used to find it difficult to get you to shut up about him and now you won't speak of him at all and avoid him as if you were afraid of him. Did he do something to you?"

"No! He would never harm me, he is a gentleman and a true Prince."

The other maid's words had caused him to grip onto the shelf opposite him in restrained pain. The thought that he would ever harm his love was horrifying to him. However, his lady's impassioned defence of him had his heart soaring. That she should think so well of him still filled him with hope that he could hope to renew his friendship with her if he was careful not to let his true devotion to her run away with him.

"Why do you avoid him so then? You'd think you hated him."

His lady's next words had his heart stopping altogether before it continued to beat urgently, the sound of it resounding in his ears as his breathing quickened and a smile upturned his lips.

"I don't hate him! I love him!"

A moment of silence passed before Margery responded.

"You...love him?"

Y/N responded in so quiet and soft a voice he had to strain to hear her, holding onto her words like a lifeline.

"I do, and it is precisely because I love him that I have to avoid him. He is a Prince of the Realm, the Heir to the Iron Throne, and I am only a lowly servant girl. It could never work. It is for the best that I avoid him."

He closed his eyes tightly shut, rebuking himself for not realising that his lady did return his feelings and that it was really only her fears regarding his intentions that were preventing her from telling him so. He should have been more assiduous in urging the seriousness of them.

"Has he made any improper advances towards you, Y/N?"

"He would never do such a thing, I do not wish for you to view him so harshly. He told me he loved me and that he wanted me to marry me."

"What?! And you said no to a Prince's proposal!? Are you mad?"

"Don't goad me, Margery. Yes, he did everything properly, but he is still a man and a Prince no-less. It would not be the first time a man has professed his love for me, only to retract it later. I have already told you of this. I thought Christopher loved me, that he would marry me, but he only wanted one thing and when I would not give it to him he proved just how foolish I was to trust in the word of a man."

Hearing his Love speak of her fears and her experience of her love being misplaced in that bastard, he wished that he could hold her to him and reassure her that he would never be so careless with her heart. His promise of love to her was solemn and unbreakable, he would never love another. He struggled to repress his anger with the man she spoke of for breaking her heart and making such demands of her. He resolved that he would kill him if he ever encountered him, his hand clenching around the book shelf he had been holding.

"I know, Y/N, but not all men are like that braggart. You have spoken to me often enough of how honourable and gallant the Prince is. Have I not sworn that if I hear 'Prince Jacaerys is a true prince in every manner of the word' one more time I will have to have an intervention with you?"

Jacaerys found himself smiling again at this, delighting that his lady should think so highly of him. He only hoped that she would see him as her Prince too, not just a stately figure she admired from a distance. He would close that distance entirely if he could.

"Yes, yes, I know it and I will not deny that the Prince could not be further from Christopher. I do believe he is in earnest about his intentions towards me, but I cannot trust that he will remain earnest. More than that, how could I claim to love him if I would willingly jeopardize his claim to the Iron Throne by tying him to a lowly servant girl? I love him far too much to do that, even if it pains me to reject his love. Do you not think it hurts me to avoid him, when I would much rather be with him always?"

He felt the wind taken out of his lungs from her declaration. His heart swelled with even more love than he felt possible for a human being to contain within themselves at her selfless concealment of her love for him, in her desire not to hinder his passage to the throne. She could not know that he could only imagine ruling with her at his side. It pained him to know that she thought so lowly of herself, when he thought she was the epitome of perfection, the most beautiful girl in the world, the Princess of his heart. At the same, he was filled with new found determination to convince her that he would never waver from his love for her. He had already resolved to love her forever, if only in silent resignation at her indifference. Now that he knew she felt the same way about him, that she wanted him too, he would not rest until he had succeeded in assuring her that he was hers and hers alone, if she would have him.

"You are more selfless than I would be in the same position, Y/N. I don't envy you. I must ready the Princess Rhaena for bed now, so I will leave you to it. Don't stay up too late, I worry about you. You haven't been sleeping or eating much. If you are to reject the Prince, can you not also neglect your own health."

Margery's words felt like a sharp rebuke to him, as he cursed himself for not having realised the true cause for his lady's distress. His concern for her wellbeing was only surpassed by his determination to ensure that he was never so careless again, not now that he knew she loved him. He would assiduously care for her all the rest of their lives together, if she would permit it. He grew restless for Margery to depart so that he could convince her that such was the case.

"I won't, don't worry. Thank you for worrying about me Margery, you are a good friend."

Jacaerys waited until he heard Margery's retreating footsteps and her close the library door, before he emerged from his hiding place, making enough noise in the hope of not startling his Love too much. She looked up from the book she had opened before her in alarm, as she met his gaze.

"My Prince! How much did you...what did you hear?!"

"Everything, my Love. I am sorry for listening to your conversation but I could not help overhearing."

As he spoke, in a gentle voice, communicating the tenderness he felt for her within it, he took slow, measured steps towards her.

"I am only sorry that it took me overhearing your conversation to understand the reason for your distress. I hope that you will forgive me for my carelessness in not realising before and that you will allow me to renew my proposal of marriage once again. I urgently entreat you to believe that I am most ardent in my love for you and in my hope that you will consent to be my lady wife and my Princess."

He had nearly approached her, reaching out towards her with his arms, as if to embrace her, before she ran from him behind a nearby table. He could not altogether repress a smile at her antics, as she moved to the other side of the table when he moved to walk around it.

"You needn't run from me, my Love." Smirking, he continued in a teasing tone. "Did you not say that you thought me gallant and a Prince in every sense of the word?" He inwardly rejoiced at the blush which arose on her cheeks as her mouth parted in shock at his words, and he took the opportunity of her surprise to move further round the table towards her. Reaching to clasp her hand in his, he added, "I would be your Prince, if you would only have me."

Coming back to her senses, she quickly withdrew her hand and Jacaerys' face fell as she turned and ran from him. He would not stand by, this time, as the only woman he would ever love fled from him again, not when he knew that she loved him too, that she wanted him, if she would only allow herself to put her faith in him. He was determined that if she wanted him, she would have him. With renewed determination, he ran after her, quickly catching up with her. Wrapping his arm around her waist, he turned her towards him. As she raised a palm to push against his chest, he pressed his own hand firmly against her hand, sliding her hand up to rest against the place where his heart beat frantically against his chest.

"Do you not feel how my heart beats for you and only you, my Love. It has only ever been you. My feelings for you are unalterable, as unshakable as the foundations of Dragonstone. I would lay my life down for yours, hold you in my arms when you are happy or sad, care for you when you will not care for yourself, and protect your heart as I would do your person. You are the Princess of my heart and I would have you be the Princess of the Realm too. Please believe me when I say that nothing would bring me greater happiness than for you to accept me as your husband who only wishes to adore you for the rest of our lives." Seeing that she was relaxing in his hold, gazing up at him as he spoke, he continued determinedly, in the hope that she was really beginning to believe in his earnestness.

He spoke even more softly now, as he approached the next sensitive issue he was urgent to address. "I know that that blaggard was unfaithful to you and careless with your heart, when to me it is the most precious thing in the world." He looked into her eyes intently, urging, willing her to believe in him. To put her faith in his love for her. "I vow to protect your heart. It is the only prize I covet. No throne could compare to your love. I believe that I would have found and loved you had we met in any other life. We would always have found each other. I feel as if there were a string tethering your heart to mine. It can never be broken on my end, but I will release you now if you believe that you cannot place your faith in me or my love for you."

He pressed her hand more firmly to his heart as he finished speaking, praying and willing that he had said enough to convince her of his love for her.

He was foolish not to have seen that he would need to convince her that he had always viewed her as an equal. Whilst proud of his noble House and fiercely loyal to it, Jacaerys saw all members of the Queen's household, whether noble or not, as deserving of the respect owing to those loyally serving the true Queen in whatever capacity they could. His own insecurities about the nature of his birth and place within House Targaryen aside, he did not believe that those who were not from noble Houses were therefore inferior. Though unconventional, he did not anticipate any strong objection to his match with Y/N from anyone who mattered to him. It distressed him to think that his lady may have believed his intentions to have been different to those he would have had towards a noble lady, but he was determined to prove to her that this could not be further from the case. She was always a Lady to him, noble or not, and he would find a way to make her believe this.

He watched in anguished anticipation as several emotions flickered across his lady's face, before she looked up to meet his gaze. He momentarily stopped breathing as she slowly raised her other hand to his chest, before sliding both hands from his chest to rest upon his shoulders.

"You earnestly mean to say that you love me and want to marry me? Even though I am no Lady, just a lowly servant girl?"

He placed both hands on either side of head, lowering his forehead to rest against hers.

"You are, and have always been a Lady to me. You have never been lowly, nor do I consider any other soul under this roof to be who serves the true Queen. We each have our role to play in service to the Queen, and you have performed yours admirably. Though, I would have you give up that role for a new one as my Princess, should you assent to it. I earnestly entreat you to believe that I mean what I say when I say that I love you more than words can say and that your assent to my proposal of marriage would make me the happiest man alive."

His eyes were closed, fearing that he had not done enough to convince her, that she would still reject him. He let out a shuddering breath when he heard her next words, music to his ears he had scarcely have imagined hearing.

"I will put my faith in your love and your promise then. You already know that I love you too, and I think too highly of your honour to believe you would not safeguard my heart if you say that you really mean to do so."

He was so elated at her words, so grateful for the trust she had placed in him, when he now knew that she had been wounded in the past by misplacing her trust that he wasted no time in pulling her head and waist towards him. Wrapping his arms around her, he attempted to remove any physical distance between them, to enwrap her in an embrace that would signal to her how carefully he intended to safeguard her person and her heart. Breaking away from her slightly, he bent his face towards hers, placing a gentle kiss on the side of her jaw, watching her reaction carefully to see if his affections should displease her. Watching her eyes close in contentment, as she tilted her jaw towards his lips, he continued to place tender kisses to her jaw, before looking into her eyes for the permission he sought, glancing at her lips. As she wrapped her arms around his neck and lowered her gaze to his lips, he crashed their lips together, pulling her, with one hand on her waist and another cupping her head, towards him. He could hardly contain the joy he felt at being able to finally hold the girl he loved in his arms, to feel her soft lips moulding with his, and her arms around his neck. Breaking the kiss so that she could catch her breath, he placed one more tender kiss to her throat. He panicked, however, when he felt her arms loosen around his neck and her weight sag, wrapping his arms around her back and waist to support her weight against his.

"My darling, are you not feeling well?"

To his relief, she only pressed her head against his chest and mumbled into his tunic.

"I am well. I just felt a little lightheaded, I don't think I was breathing."

Seeing that she was not fainting, and noticing a blush creeping onto her cheeks, as she once again buried her face in his chest, he could not repress a slight smile. He directed his gaze away from her so as not to embarrass her, as he said his next words.

"Do you think you can walk, my Love?"

When she shook her head against his torso, he placed an arm on the small of her back and another underneath her knees as he swept her up in his arms, delighting at the little cry of shock his love emitted at his sudden gesture. She quickly wrapped her arms around his neck, even as she scolded him.

"What are you doing, my Prince?"

Smiling indulgently down at her, he pressed his forehead to hers for a moment before saying in a teasing tone, "your Prince is carrying his Princess, since you have owned that you cannot walk yourself. If I had known that kissing you would have you swooning in my arms I might have attempted it sooner." He laughed in amusement as she covered her hands with her face and pressed it against his shoulder.

"There is no need for embarrassment, my Love. You have the same effect on me." He dropped his teasing tone, investing his words with the tenderness he really felt towards her, as he pressed a soft kiss to the crown of her head, and began to walk her back towards the library. Holding his love in his arms, he felt that he could scarcely contain his joy, having never believed it to be a possibility. The Prince and his Princess spent many long hours afterwards, catching up on the time they had spent apart. As they talked and laughed through the evening, Prince Jacaerys did not for a moment let go of his Princess, continuing to hold her against him on his lap. Now that he had won her heart to him, he was reluctant to release her from his embrace, still fearing that this would all prove to be but a dream. Happily, Y/N seemed as reluctant as the Prince to leave his embrace, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, placing her head close to his heart.

#house of the dragon #house of the dragon x reader #hotd #jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys velaryon #hotd jacaerys #jacaerys x reader #prince jacaerys #jacaerys velaryon oneshot #jacaerys velaryon imagine

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lovelykhaleesiii · 2 years ago

Note

My lovely Hel!!! Please, if you could.

Aemond and Aegon taking turns with reader and face fucking her? All the degradation and praise please? (Daddy kink what) And wonderful aftercare! Any other kinks is up to you!!!

beans your request is my command, this is everything & more….. oh to be face fucked by this duo, lord have mercy.

hope this was everything you dreamt of and more ✨

Exceptions.

PAIRING: Aegon ii Targaryen x fem!Reader x Aemond Targaryen

WORDS: 2,280.

WARNINGS: NSFW, degradation kink, praise kink, mentions of innocence kink, female receiving (fingering), p in v sexual intercourse, male oral receiving, Daddy kink, slight mentions of breeding / lactation kink.

A/N - OKAY so I attempted to do a contrast between the brothers regarding their treatment towards the reader. hope I did it justice :) NO PLOT JUST S*X !!! Did I put my whole helussy into this? maybe…

How they found you hidden away in the solace of the castle's library, your nose buried in between the ancient pages of a book, you could not say for certain. Although, it was a keen skill of theirs, and you knew those guarding and tending to the castle grounds spoke, especially when questioned by the royal inhabitants, probing for your whereabouts, they'd have the answer in a split second.

Your elder Uncles cherished you since your youth, something about the way you looked at them, spoke to them, touched them, even if it was as innocent as gripping their arm, drove them far beyond the hatred they had for their Strong nephews... Your half-brothers. Having grown into the mature, young woman that you were, Aemond often dotting you as "ethereal", the maesters had highly proclaimed as a true Targaryen beauty. Nonetheless, many noble and highborn lords of the realm sought for your hand, yet you remained indignant in refusing to engage, for your heart was set elsewhere, closer to home.

Aemond and Aegon also made no effort to hide their infatuation with you. Especially Aegon, refusing to engage in small talk or relations with maidens his grandsire would arrange, as means to provoke an heir from him, Aegon was solely fixated on you. The proposition of Aegon marrying Helaena, was shut down immediately by the Prince himself, for he'd rather set himself aflame than take his sister to bed.

Nonetheless, the family grew aware of his deep admiration for you, and felt defeated in retaliating against it any further. Whispers of a betrothal between yourself and your eldest Uncle were in the midst. And although your mother, Princess Rhaenyra, much preferred Aemond as a suitor, as you both were far closer in age and Aemond having less arduous tendencies, she was agreeable to the arrangement if it meant a form of peace-keeping between herself and the Dowager Queen.

Although, from time to time, you'd confide in her how Aegon the First, took two wives... Would it be so terrible for you, to take two husbands in the ancient traditions of your House?

Regardless, amongst the three of you, you had your own little plots and ploys at hand. If Aegon secured this marriage with you, he'd made the promise that his younger brother too, would take part, even if it was concealed in secrecy. You loved them both incomparably, and they had accepted this respectfully. For you, they would travel to the ends of the Earth for, kill for and bleed for... No one else came close.

You were always the exception for them.

****

"Here she is brother. Too preoccupied for us it seems-" Aegon utters. Slowly he strides towards you, plopping himself down by your side on the lounge, as he plants a soft peck at your cheek, before fiddling and flicking the pages of a smaller, overused book at the table side.

Aemond, tediously following behind remains quiet and unfazed, as he too follows his elder brother's gesture: planting a soft, longer-lasting kiss at your other cheek, before seating himself on the arm rest of your chair.

"You two have been in meetings since the mane, I thought I'd keep myself tucked and busy as I waited for you both."

"My sweet thing-" Aegon steadily arises as he plants a tender kiss atop your head.

"Have you missed us?" He utters, plopping himself back down, one hand embracing your from behind, the other free one begins to hike your dress up, high enough for his hand to sneak in between your thighs. Pulling aside your cotton undergarments, his fingers creep inside, now lightly grazing over the bare, sensitive skin of your cunt.

"Hmm, yes."

"How much?" Aemond sternly interjects, subtly biting at his lower lip, as he watches his elder brother teasing you.

"V-Very much."

Aegon's thick fingers slowly began to etch between your thighs, motioning in small circles, as your wetness began to naturally stir.

"How much is 'very much', dear niece? Do not be shy now. Tell your Uncles, exactly what you desire, and we shall see to it that your needs are met," Aemond firmly pressed, kneeling down on the ground, as he lifts your leg, planting a trail of small, tender kisses from the shin working his way up.

"I-I want y-you both... Inside me," Stuttering your words, only just above the volume of a whisper, Aegon's digits now deeply immersed inside your folds, churning in larger, sensual circular motions, as his longer index rubs at your clit. Helpless moans escaping your mouth, as Aegon buries his head against the crook of your neck, his plump, wet lips latched at your soft skin, harshly suckling at it.

Aemond remains below, now feeling the sharpness of his canines faintly biting at the flesh of your inner thighs.

"Hear that brother- Spoiled, little girl wants to be full of us both. Such a pampered babe, wants to be coddled and fucked stupid by her Uncles."

"And we shall-" Aegon utters, momentarily breaking free from your skin, as he responds to his brother's despotic words.

"On the floor now, Y/N," Aegon growls, as he stops his lustful pursuits, hastily removing his eager hand from below, causing your breath to hitch suddenly, as you firmly grip his forearm instinctively. Once you regained your senses, Aemond aided your descent to the carpeted, stony floor. Aegon begins to lay down a few silk, plush pillows from the lounge, behind you, as he too follows your steps.

"On all fours, brat," Aemond spits, as he props himself on his knees, his rough hand entwined in the free, loose strands of your hair, guiding your head towards him. Your face, now, just a few, mere inches apart from his cock, beneath his pants. You could sense Aegon behind, his hands firmly grasping at your waists, as he aligns himself with you. One hand finding its way between your legs, pushing at the sides of your inner thighs, as he urges them to spread.

"Wider baby, you know I need more space- That's it-"

In sync, your Uncles begin to hastily undo their trousers, watching Aemond unbutton his with a smug appearance on his chiselled face, and hearing Aegon groan in relief from behind.

Aemond's lean, stiff cock, sprung before you, the veins and its natural hue evident, as his tip flushed red with colour, glistening with a white, cloudy film oozing from the tip.

From behind, Aegon once again, hiked your dress up, folding it on your back, as he ripped apart your undergarments completely with his bare hands. You knew he was desperately eager now. Shuffling himself more forward, shoving himself between your thighs, closer to your frame, you could feel his thick, fat cock rigid against your soft ass cheeks. Taunting you with his girthy size and unyielding posture, his hands gripped firmly at your waist once more, pulling your backside deeper to his dense mass.

"If only you could see brother. Just how avid she is for our cocks. She cannot even bring herself to look me in the eye, though rather my cock."

"Do not jest with her, brother. She has waited long enough, and we too have been kept from her. My poor Princess-"

One hand still gripped on your waist, Aegon sets the other one loose, as it wanders over to your naked ass cheek, kneading at your flesh, before giving it a quick, sharp slap. Positioning his stiff cock to entrance, Aegon spares no second to thrust himself in, earning a moaning plea, as the intense pain of your walls stretching out beyond comfort, desperate to accomodate for his substantial mass.

In doing so, as your mouth shapes blatantly open, Aemond seizes the grand opportunity to shove his into your mouth. His hand remaining tightly entangled in your strands, tugging to pull your face towards him.

Gleaming down towards you with a complacent smirk strewed across his face. His one remaining, good eye, lurks down intently upon you, as he begins to sway himself slowly, backwards and forwards, his eye flutters in conjunction to the unfathomable sensation.

"Th-That's it, my petty, little brat. Show me how well that spoiled mouth of yours can treat me, show me how well you think you deserve my cock."

Hot tears began to swell in your eyes, although from the glorious pain and fulfilment you felt in that precise moment. Aegon's growling grunts, your mouthful gags and Aemond's deep moans, ricocheted across the walls of the ancient library, like an orchestral symphony.

May the Gods be good, that no one dares to venture in your vicinities.

Aemond's lean, long cock, shoved its way deeper, as your soft, wet lips stroked againsts its circumference in rhythmic motions, sensing the urge of the hard tip at the back of your throat. His hot wetness began to pool, coating your insides, as he roughly jammed himself in.

"F-Fuck, that feels so good, Y/N."

Simultaneously, Aegon's thrusts, although not as synchronised and steady as Aemond's, began to grow sloppier and faster, as he plunged himself partially in and out, forcing himself back in. The friction brewing between your inner thighs, lessened as your natural wetness began to ooze from the gaps of your clenching entrance.

"Poor Princess, so needy for my cock. I can just feel you tightening for me, baby. Is that how bad you wanted your Daddies, huh? Needed your Daddy's fat cock inside to comfort you, hmm?" Aegon breathlessly exclaimed: the vulgarity as he confidently spat the term 'Daddy' out, provoking you to quench tighter around his throbbing, hard cock, earning a mindless, low moan from him.

"Fuck Y/N!" Aegon roared, raking another piercing slap against your bare ass. Sensing from the sweat and heat of your flesh that your sensitive skin was marked with a reddening handprint, mimicking that identical of Aegon's palm.

"Insolent, weak Princess. Crying from how full and weak she is, Seven Hells. Aren't you a pathetic, little thing, struggling to take her Daddy's cock front and back, huh?"

Aemond immediately wretched his cock free from your mouth, as he tugged at your head once more, pulling it back before leaning down towards you. Faces an inch apart, his hungry eye lusts over your wet, soiled lips with his pre-cum, inadvertently he licks his own lips, before succumbing to a passionate yet short-lasting kiss.

"Tell me, brat. Can you take much more?"

"Y-Yes, Daddy-" You weakly whimpered and sputtered, gasping from deep, full breaths as you impatiently sought for fuller consciousness.

"What was that, whore? Have we not given you enough yet? You hear that, Aegon? Keep at it. The whore is not yet satisfied."

"I-Is that so? My innocent babe will reap her desires, j-just as she deserves." Aegon menacingly growled, his grip firmer than before on your waist, you felt your skin growing numb beneath.

"Lets finish her-"

As Aemond spoke his final words, taking one final, crisp breath in, he shoved his cock back into your mouth, its lengthy size and rapid thrusts, rewarded with muffled moans echoing from your mouth watering lips.

"That'll shut up the bratty whore."

The aches of your arched, lower back grew sorer, a dull pain brewing as the weight of Aegon's mass leaning over from behind, and having been stationed in that exact position for a solid period of time, began to take its toll. Although, just as your desires had been fulfilled, you felt yourself reaching a climax from below, just as Aegon's cock grew tenser inside, the throbbing sensations of his cock was blinding. Your eyes rapidly flickering shut, all your senses incoherent and stunned beyond awareness.

"I'm gonna cum, baby, I'm gonna cum- Fill you up with my hot seed, you might just take. And then what? Ugh- To see you swell with my babe, for being such a good girl-"

"Do it, brother. May her tits also swell with the Mother's, sweet milk, that she may bless us with her treat."

The grunts and groans your Uncles ravenously exchanged, was once more, a melody to your blessed ears.

"Then we shall see to it. Cease every opportunity to fuck her senseless, until her cunt is drowning in our seed, until she takes. That belly will grow healthily with a royal heir," Aemond breathlessly proclaims, before releasing a deep groan, as his hot load shoots against your uvula. Coating your mouth to the brimful, before slowly pulling his twitching cock out.

In sync to his younger, the rigid and pulsing tensity of Aegon's cock begins to dissipate as he instantly releases his hot cum inside. Pooling all over your delicate walls, some naturally streaming out, as he cautiously removes himself from your tight hold.

"That's it, baby. You did such a good job," Aegon softly coos, as he massages small circles against the lower part of your back, where your hand momentarily was tending to the soreness.

"Lay down, sweetling-" Aemond lowly interrupts, guiding your tiresome, weary body to lay. Your head gently rests on Aegon's clothed thigh, as his hand begins to soothe through your mottled hair, brushing the messy strands away, tending to the mess his brother invoked.

"Now we rest for a short while, Princess. Regain your strength and us, ours, till the next lot of fun and pleasure-" Aemond slyly murmurs, as his fingers softly trace random trails across your back, just as he knows you enjoy.

"Mayhaps we'll move this to the bedroom, dear brother. I shall carry her back, and you can see to it, fetch for the servants to bring up some replenishments. And then, can we resume this deed, once and for all."

general taglist - @evenstaris @chompchompluke @fan-goddess @malfoytargaryen @ilikeitbetterangsty @bibli0thecary @m1ndbrand @connorsui @rafesbarbiegirl @elegantsplendour @randomdragonfires @sylas-the-grim @arcielee @s-we-e-t-t-ea @sahvlren

Aegon ii taglist - @who-told-you-this-was-butter @f4ll-for-you @amiraisgoingthruit

Aemond taglist - @megatardisbaby @harrypotteranna23-blog

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greattemptation · 25 days ago

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Marked as Read

Today, we enjoy Now I Wake Up In The Night and Watch You Breathe by the incomparable @hoko-onchi-writes. E, 25k, drarry.

Summary:

When the DMLE assigned Harry to watch Draco, Harry’s interest ramped up. He wanked so much that first year he tore a muscle in his upper arm. It was all sexual at first. But with time, Harry’s feelings deepened. Draco was clever, well-informed, viciously funny. He stopped to pet dogs on the street and looked after his neighbour’s cat. He took an art course at a Muggle uni and opened his own gallery. He was smart and sharp; ambitious.

Draco was a puzzle box of a person. Intricate. Addictive.

So of course Harry continued watching Draco after the DMLE let him go, buying his own equipment and setting his own spells in place. Harry has such a nice collection of videos now. A library full. Harry deserves an honorary doctorate on the study of Draco Malfoy.

Two things are to be made clear:

This fic has a happy ending.

That doesn't mean it's happy for you, exactly.

This fic is SO good, everyone. If you read the summary, and you read the tags, and you say, "I could hang with that," my advice to you is do hang with it. Please hang with it. Give yourself this. You will not be disappointed.

It had been months since I'd read anything from Hoko (my bad, not theirs), and I had forgotten how beautiful and gripping their work always is. I absolutely adored how they played with my relationship to drarry, plucking and pulling at different emotions as the story evolved.

It's searingly hot, confusingly compelling, and ethically... also confusingly compelling. It might make your day weird, but it will also make your day better. Pinky promise.

#drarry #draco malfoy #harry potter #fanfiction #fic rec #hoko onchi #marked as read

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hamsterclaw · 1 year ago

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Fic Library: Jimin

Lost and Found by @kimvtae. An idolverse AU featuring Jimin as a problematic idol who gets sent for rehab in America, where he meets reader. Beautiful writing and reformed bad boy Jimin is characterised so well here.

Adonis by @xjoonchildx. Jimin's a hot paramedic who you meet with a little help from the little old lady next door. Funny, cute and written in Ana's incomparable style.

Put it on me by @jimilter features models Jimin and reader on a shoot and it's laugh out loud funny, snappy and smutty. So so good.

La Grande Maison by @softyoongiionly features Jimin x reader and is a mystery/thriller with great scene-setting and beautifully realised friendships.

I know a place by @augustbutwinter has Jimin and a gender-neutral reader in a sweet pining story about unrequited love.

Fall like moondrops by @madbutgloriouspond is a beautiful story set in a just-post-college AU featuring a dancer Jimin who's determined, sweet, and an all-round decent guy. It captures the end-of-summer vibe and apprehension about upcoming change perfectly.

Devil's in the backseat by @ugh-yoongi is a sexy, smutty tale with banter that's sparky and so so funny, featuring Jimin x f! reader in an established relationship.

Headrush (It's too sweet) by the uber-talented @minisugakoobies is a spiky, sexy, fun, headrush featuring stylist reader and idol Jimin.

Neon Seoul by @readyplayerhobi has a noir murder mystery set in a cyberpunk dystopia and features detectives Jimin x reader. The worldbuilding is stellar.

Make an offer by @bangtanintotheroom features an irresistibly sexy Jimin in a sugar daddy/sugar baby AU.

Of stars erased by @fantasybangtan. I'm a sucker for dystopian future AUs, and this is a story that makes me reflect on how lucky I am to be able to read stories like this, for free. Incredible storytelling by a fantastic writer.

An Ghealach by @theharrowing is sexy horror at it's best. A haunting, ambiguous, unreliable-narrator tale featuring linguist Jimin and a mysterious OC.

Like Crazy by @thatlongspringnight is a beautifully realised story about loneliness and seeking solace in transience that features Jimin x f! reader.

Blunt Rotation by @gimmethatagustd is a law school AU featuring pretty boy Jimin and weed girl reader. Funny, chaotic and razor sharp.

Weight by @augustbutwinter features Jimin x f! reader and is set in a semi-historical, royal AU, where nothing is quite as it seems.

Menace by @eoieopda features Jimin x Kim! reader in an irresistible relationship dynamic characterised by brattiness and hate sex and a Jimin who lives up to the title of the story. So so good.

The airport couple: P(ass)enger from hell by @dovechim features frequent traveller Jimin and TSA agent reader and is so good I've reread it time and again. Cracky, hilarious and Jimin is perfectly written as an outrageous little shit.

On the borderline by @jimilter is a friends to lovers AU in progress that's a super fun read - deliciously smutty, angsty and infused with Ash's signature brand of humour.

Red flag by @xjoonchildx has rich boy Jimin x reader in a witty, sparkling smutty caper that's a romp of a read.

Shadows in the graveyard by @minisugakoobies is sexy, kitschy, schlocky horror at it's best featuring reader x Jimin stranded in the woods.

#fic rec: jimin #these authors are amazing

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foxofsunholt · 1 year ago

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NOT RELATED TO FOS but just want to ask for my own fun:

I am very interested in knowing what your favourite novel/book series are! Please reply or send in asks with them—I’m always interested in recs! Doesn’t matter what genre or type of novel; I like everything, I assure you lol

Please let me know what your favourite books are ❤️

Under the cut are some recent liked reads of mine:

FIRSTLY… use your libraries. truly the best places in the world. 90% of what I read was from a library and the other 10% was books I bought years ago and finally decided to read

The Spear Cuts Through Water — Two men shepherd a dying god through the lands to help overthrow a tyrannical regime. One pet love letter to oral history, one part gay love story, one part creative epic fantasy. This novel is stylish, artsy and not for everyone but for the people that it’s for!!! it’s for you!!! The story is told in layers: YOU, the reader in second person, the story itself, the ghosts of the people inside of the story. I think to see if this is for you, reading the first couple of pages is a good indication of the style and prose and if you’d like it. (I paired it with the audiobook and enjoyed reading both in tandem)

Know My Name — a memoir by Chanel Miller—certainly read the description and check TWs for this. because the subject is not easy but I sobbed so hard during this. Not just for her pain but for her joy. If you’re interested in memoirs, I recommend this one! (I also enjoyed Tara Westover’s “Educated”, which i read years ago). Honestly reading this book I kept thinking THIS IS A MUST READ, THIS IS A MUST READ–heartbreaking, poignant, cathartic. It’s long, but if the subject matter interests you at all, i’d say give it a try!

Chain Gang All-Stars — Fight to the death to earn your freedom from prison! I’ve read some reviews of this book that call the allegory heavy-handed, but I didn’t mind that at all. A novel obviously about the prison industrial complex in America, Chain Gang All Stars made me rethink how I view compassion, and personally seek out and research the prison abolition movement. This novel isn’t perfect, but it did for me exactly what the author was intending. I also couldn’t put it down. The Audiobook is great, it has multiple narrators! If you’re interested in thought-provoking speculative fiction…

Project Hail Mary — A man wakes up on a spaceship with no recollection of why he’s there—learning that he needs to save the world. I didn’t like this as much as everything else on this list but I think it’s a more easy recommendation. I had a lot of fun with this book and found it to be an engaging read all around. This is the only Weir I’ve read, and I don’t think I’ll be seeking out The Martian anytime soon if that says anything about the novel (I did really like it I swear lol)

ANYTHING SHIRLEY JACKSON — I read We Have Always Lived in the Castle and Haunting of Hill House and loved both a lot. Not the sort of books if you like plot, but if you’re into creepy atmosphere and characterization…i think there might just be a reason Shirley Jackson is a classic. The way she bends reality, seeds chilling aspects and weaves horror around settings is very sharp. I recommend We Have Always Lived In The Castle more (it’s short!) and it’s great as audiobook or physical

JUNJI ITO…king — I read Uzumaki and re-read a lot of his short stories and Gyo. KING. The visions of his art haunted me. If possible, I recommend reading these physically, as the act of turning the page on to whatever unspeakable horror awaits you is incomparable. If you like body horror at all, even a little, this is a mangaka I think you should try as if you haven’t already lol

Our Wives Under The Sea — God. What can I say about this? A story about grief, a story about watching your loved ones change beyond recognition. Body horror. Sapphic. Beautiful prose. Tragic. Loved all of it.

Metamorphosis — Yes the Kafka one. Yes I liked it. Yes I related a lot to being turned into a burdensome, ugly roach.

Roaming (graphic novel) — Not a story where a lot (or anything) happens. But I found this relatable and able to capture that age of girlhood with expert precision. Not much happens, really nothing happens; just a snapshot and fragment of this price of these girls lives. They are immature, messy, weird. (I also really enjoyed It Happened One Summer and one of my favourite movies is Only Yesterday so that should tell you a lot about my tastes in slow, character snapshot pieces). The art is lovely, of course

Eileen — Stinky, miserable, unlikeable Eileen Dunlop becomes obsessed with mysterious, attractive Rebecca. This one very aggressively I have to say ITS NOT FOR EVERYONE. I can’t even explain why I liked it so much, but I as so absorbed into the setting. I had the feeling of being transported into Eileen’s cold, gloomy New England. Eileen is gross, putrid, hard to read and nothing happens at all until the end. But also i loved it. I can’t explain this one. I don’t even recommend it but definitely check TWs. Now it’s a movie starring Anne Hathaway and I finally got to say “the book was better”

Bluest Eye — CHECK TW FOR THIS ONE I’ve loved Toni Morrison since highschool, but I never actually finished any of her novels. This being her debut novel is so shocking; it was poetic, devastating, uncomfortable. Another book I don’t exactly recommend because of its graphic nature, and how sharply and uncomfortably certain scenes are written, but so much was so poignant—I have a lot of this book highlighted and to share:

I recommend reading the Author’s Note, the description and the TWs and see if it interests you! I think Toni Morrison explains herself and her intentions well in the author’s note. (I need to get around to Morrison’s other work, but for some reason I started in chronological order)

I’m going to stop here because I’m realizing I like a lot of “weird” books that I know are probably not widely liked but akfjkskd WHAT CAN I SAY I LIKE A WEIRD LITTLE FREAK

Other notables: I read a lot of Grady Hendrix and I don’t LOVE love him, but reliably I do have fun. I couldn’t even stomach the scene (YOU KNOW THE SCENE) in my best friend’s exorcism—i’d recommend him for some intro to horror! I liked How to Sell a Haunted House but my friend didn’t so there’s that too.

I read this around when it was published but I will never shut up about In The Dream House (another memoir) so good. so strong. so beautiful. AH.

I also started the Locked Tomb series and I only didn’t put it on this list because I’ve only read Gideon so far but I liked it a lot also.

I’m very excited to do more reading this year. Mostly I’ve been getting through the popular titles…as you can see…. But i’m hoping to read more fantasy and sci-fi this year! it’s just unfortunate they’re so long 😭

#not fox of sunholt #books can be so divided #people I love and respect and adore have hated books i loved #and vice versa #and you just gotta learn that’s okay!!!!#which is my way of saying you might hate these books #DONT BLAME ME lol #borkclub

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valkyrietookme · 1 year ago

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Library of Blessings (祝福のLibrary) english translation

Japanese lyrics used are at the very end. Feel free to let me know about any mistakes or ask any questions about the translation.

Bolded words in the English version represents the words that are written in the song lyrics that they pronounce as the word between dashes (-like this-)

English

God Bless! Life is Novel Letters scattered upon this world Like fragments -pieces- of a star People pick up and collect them, composing a part of a story As it changes within confines of time It is written penmanship -proof- of life Joy Mercy Sorrow, wrath Unsightly things too That beautiful melody -tune- Is here That well-known and celebrated tome -long novel- And that nameless one-line poem Are both equally a god’s publication Aah, extending in a helix Lining up in a bookcase, innumerable shelfbacks The Library of blessings Like tracing on the scale -sound- If you leaf through the pages The wind blowing across them Please may it… Forevermore -eternally- Good and evil are two sides of the same coin Will it be a comedy? Will it be a tragedy? With western ink -ink- that dissolves both love and sin Etch an opus -dream- that engulfs your ideals What do you wish for? What do you desire? Oh illusion of unsolicited remarks With ephemeral Warmth Strength and fragility… Place it upon, incomparable, sublime leaves of sound Let us captivate That way of life Now, from the heavens raining down What that parental fondness -agape- illuminates Is it only tales of success? Nay! That unfinished tale of an adventure -adventure- That upfront memoir Such things are also sacred Come, dearest live’s Poem -song-, resound, let them be gently offered The Library of blessings With a pure heart offer it To the future

Japanese

God Bless！ Life is Novel この世界に散らばる文字まるで星の断片-かけら-のよう人はそれを拾い集め　一篇の物語を綴る移ろいゆく時の中で記されし命の筆跡-プルーフ- 喜び慈しみ mercy 悲しみ　怒り醜くも美しき旋律-しらべ-が此処にかの名高き長篇-ロング・ノヴェル- 名も無き一行詩も等しく神の書物嗚呼　螺旋に連なる書架に並ぶ　無数の背表紙祝福のLibrary 音階-おと-を手繰るように頁めくれば吹き抜けてゆく風どうか永遠-とわ-に善と悪は表裏一体喜劇なのか悲劇なのか愛も罪も溶いた洋墨-インク-で理想を込めた作品-ゆめ-を刻んで何を願い　何を望む問わず語りの幻影よ儚き温もりと強さと　脆さ… 比類無き　気高き音の葉に　乗せて生き様を魅せよう今　天より降り差す慈愛-アガペ-が照らすのは成功譚のみか？否！未完の冒険物語-アドベンチャー- 愚直なる回顧録それもまた尊いさあ　愛おしい人生の詩-うた-を奏で　そっと収めよう祝福のLibrary 未来へと捧げんと

#enstars #enstars translations #ensemble stars #entars valkyrie #my attempts at translation #song translations

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descendent-of-the-sixth-heaven · 16 days ago

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*Cherry blushes a little bit when he compliments her. She smiles shyly at him*

My beauty is incomparable to yours. When I was younger, I used to sneak into the forbidden section in the library with Mai to read about humans. There's this one book that I really liked, it's a love story between two humans. When I first saw you, you reminded me of the prince charming from that book. I never thought I would find someone so pretty and handsome, and it makes sense why the girl would fall for the prince charming.

Kenshin: a romance…? Then, certainly I am much better than the man in this story.

*He was jealous even of a fictional character*

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clover1412 · 28 days ago

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and it felt like forever

i kinda didnt like the plot of this but its the only piece i completed for esuka week in 2023

Isuka grew up on the castle grounds. Being the ward of the captain of the royal guard meant she lived with him in the castle. Despite her proximity to royalty, she was never one of them. Her adoptive father's closeness to the king he served had meant she received some privileges - schooling, clothes, and training. But there was a line between her and the princess, the world reminded her of it constantly.

Her world was incomparable to the life of the boy she would eventually fall for.

Ace was a prince, despite it being through adoption, he was just as important as the ‘real’ prince. He was kind, beautiful and more importantly out of reach.

Each year, the kingdom threw a banquet for his birthday and Isuka would attend with the royal family of her country. Her adoptive father had to stay close to the king, so there was no reason to leave her alone.

She hid away most of the time, finding solace in the castle's library in the week-long period they stayed. Often because she was too scared about what the other royal kids would think of her. She stumbled across the prince a couple of times in a corner of the garden where she sometimes sat to read in peace, huddled beneath a giant coat and mittens. He was apparently escaping people who spoke badly of his father.

~ ♡ ~

She looked up, startled, a loud rustling noise making its way towards her, she hid behind the book hoping not to be told off by some grown-up. A kind old man had told her it was okay to use it.

‘Stupid people!’ A yell. The person sounded younger than she thought, so she looked up. It was a boy, he looked to be her age, his freckles had faded with the winter cold, but they were just visible. He regarded her with the same shock she did with him.

‘Who’re you?’

‘Isuka,’ she replied, hoping he would pry further.

‘Oh,’ he sniffed and she realised his eyes were red like he had been crying, ‘I’m Ace.’

‘Like the prince?’ She scrambled to stand up and bow to him.

‘You don’t have to do that, it’s not like I’m a real prince anyway.’

She looked up at him, ‘what?’

‘You know I’ve never seen you before, which royal family are you from?’

‘Oh no I’m not a royal, but I’m the ward of Knight Draw, the King of Oykot’s personal protection,’ she was proud of him.

‘Oh, is it your first time here?’

‘No, I’ve been coming here for the past five years,’ ever since she had been adopted five years ago.

‘Oh,’ it was the prince’s 12th birthday, and five years is a long time. ‘Are you not close with the princess?’

‘We get along fine, we are inseparable,’ she imitated the Queen’s tone. When they were home it was true, they loved each other like sisters would. Medora knew how Isuka hated royal events, and even defended her when Draw would scold her for hiding away. So when they had to travel to other nations Medora would cover for her as she spent the week hiding. Unlike her Medora adored social events, and most of all the attention of other people.

‘So you hate those royal brats too?’

‘Technically you’re a royal brat too,’ she replied without thinking, when she realised what she had done she slapped a finger over her mouth.

To her surprise he burst out laughing instead, ‘technically you would be correct, my country believes so, but the other kids seem to hate me.’

‘Why would they hate you?’ She sat back down, patting the seat next to her.

He took the invitation, sitting down next to her. ‘They think I don’t deserve to be a prince,’ he continued when he saw her confused look, ‘my father was a criminal, but the king took pity on my mum when he was executed.’

‘Well if your country accepts you that’s really all you need right?’

‘Ah, well, other countries need to like me to be king.’

‘Oh,’ Isuka’s face was red, she hadn’t learnt much about international politics yet, Medora had been learning for years.

‘Luffy and Sabo don’t want to be king. Luffy, the youngest, just wants to travel the world and have fun. Sabo, the middle one, wants to lead in a different way, he wants to focus on the common people.’

Isuka listened in amazement, he was the same age as her but already had a greater understanding of the world. He was considering her brothers’ feelings and taking on such a big burden. ‘But what do you want to be?’

‘I haven’t thought about it.’

‘Well,’ she smiled at him and the slight blush on his face deepened, ‘you have lots of time.’

‘Yeah I guess I do,’ he smiled back at her.

For the rest of the week, he spent as much time as he could with her, laughing like actual kids, without the weight of the world on them.

When it was time for her to leave, he hugged her goodbye, whispering about how he was excited to see her again.

~ ♡ ~

For the next two years, they saw each other at royal events. Medora made sure to tease her about it every single time she caught them together and if what Ace said was true his brothers were the same.

He sent a present on her birthday and they wrote letters for the rest of the year. She was starting to think royal events weren’t so bad when he was next to her, like Medora he didn’t care what the adults thought of her, even if the kids would say things.

~ ♡ ~

On his 15th he eagerly awaited her arrival and when the carriage from Oykot he watched the princess, her governess and ladies-in-waiting step out. Isuka was nowhere to be found.

When he caught the princess’s eyes she shook her head slightly and he smiled back in gratitude.

He found out the exact reason later. Draw had been a traitor, and Isuka had barely stopped a plot to poison the king. The king was in critical condition, and the queen did not want to leave his side as he recovered from the poisoning. Ace thought that Medora was strong for coming by herself, and her best friend was not there to support her.

Isuka had locked herself in her room and refused to come out. Medora had tried to talk her out of the room every day for two weeks since the incident. Even the mention of seeing Ace hasn’t convinced her to get out.

Ace tried to enjoy his birthday festivities but nothing seemed the same. Her presence made everything better. He found solace in the company of his brothers, they did their best to cheer him up. Even though their attempts often worked, not long after he went back to feeling empty.

When Medora was leaving, he pressed a note into her hand, ‘please give this to her.’

‘I’ll try,’ she reassured him with a smile.

~ ♡ ~

It would be another year before he saw her again. It was his 16th birthday and he was greeting guests as they stepped out of their carriages when he caught sight of that vermilion bob he hadn’t seen in nearly two years.

He must’ve looked absolutely silly, his mouth open wide as she stepped out. She looked different, older, more serious. There was a blade at her hip, her outfit more fitting for a knight than a young lady.

Their eyes met briefly and he smiled but she simply looked away. He was confused at her attitude but chalked it up to the awkwardness of being older. He hoped that they would get a chance to catch up later.

~ ♡ ~

Unlike before, Isuka stayed beside her princess. It was impossible to get her alone. She was always surrounded, by the princess, the princess’s ladies-in-waiting, by other security. He hoped to at least make eye contact, for her to smile at him so the world could go back to what it was, but by the end of the first night he was convinced that she was avoiding him.

He was honestly confused, had he done something to annoy her? Was she mad at him? If so he wanted to apologise, he just wanted his friend back.

It had been an awful week for him. Of course, the food was good and the company great, but her bright red hair simply wouldn’t leave his eyesight. Constantly reminding him that for some reason they weren’t the same anymore.

On the third day he had given in, walking up to her when she was alone with the princess.

‘Medora,’ he nodded and she nodded back, glancing over to Isuka to see her reaction, but the girl had an indecipherable expression on her face. He straightened his shoulders and mustered up the courage to ask, ‘may I speak with Lady Isuka alone?’ He didn’t know why he was being so formal - this was the girl who’d thrown a snowball at him for calling her beautiful.

‘Of course, I was planning on heading back to my room,’ she looked at Isuka who was going to protest at leaving her alone, ‘my ladies-in-waiting will be with me. There is no need to worry,’ she reassured Isuka with a smile before patting her on the back and leaving the pair alone.

Isuka didn’t meet his eyes and since she clearly didn’t plan on speaking first he did, ‘you never replied to my letter. You know I thought maybe you had died and they just weren’t telling me the truth.’

‘What do you want, your highness?’

‘You,’ she looked at him with shock, ‘I want to back to the way we were.’

‘That would be highly improper, your highness, you should focus our attention on girls who are right for you.’

‘And who would that be?’ He asked, annoyance building in his tone.

‘That’s not my place to say.’

‘Why are you doing this Isuka? Why are you pushing me away.’

‘I think it would be better for us to stick to our own worlds.’

He watched as Isuka walked away, helplessly staring at her retreating figure.

It wasn't until the fifth day that he found out why Isuka had changed. Medora had been alone in a corridor when Ace had stumbled across her. She grabbed him and pulled him into a corner.

‘Shush Isuka can't see us together. She would kill me if she knew what I was going to tell you .’

She spent the next hour explaining what had happened since he had seen her last. Apparently, when Medora had been here on his 15th birthday she’d talked to the king and queen and insisted on joining the royal knights. She trained hard enough to become her personal knight in the shortest time possible and was the youngest royal knight ever. She had thrown herself into work over the guilt she had felt. Apparently, she had felt betrayed that she trusted Draw for so long when he had been the one to kill her parents because they tried to expose him and only adopted her so that he could win the favour of the king. She felt like she had played a part in his cruel plan and wanted to work in order to make things better. The king and queen had initially refused, placing none of the blame on her, she was a victim too. She had been very convincing.

‘But why would she ignore me?’

‘I think maybe she feels like she needs to keep her distance, she can’t be with you and doesn’t want to hurt you further.’

‘I don’t care about that, who told her that.’

‘I don’t know, she usually doesn’t care about what people say about her, but whoever it was really got under her skin.’

He buried his face in his hands, despite being one of the smartest people he knew she was so dumb sometimes.

So when it was time for them to leave, he waited and grabbed Isuka’s hand as she tried to get in. He handed her a note and waited for her to take it from him. She looked puzzled and in a sort of half daze accepted the letter. He helped her up into the carriage and watched as they left.

On her way home Isuka opened the letter, trying her best to conceal the contents from Medora who sat next to her.

Isuka,

It has come to my attention that you’ve been ignoring me for my sake. Well, I have to say that it’s a load of rubbish and will continue to bother you until you reply.

Waiting eagerly for your reply, Your fire fist

She smiled fondly at his use of the nickname she made for him, and then immediately stopped when she noticed Medora smirking at her.

‘He won’t be receiving a reply any time soon.’

‘That’s not going to stop him.’

‘He can try his best.’

~ ♡ ~

Isuka,

Hoping this is actually going to be read and not immediately burned. Will you be attending my brothers’ banquets?

Your wonderful and amazing Ace

P.s. please reply

~ ♡ ~

My dear Isuka,

I am going to take your silence as a yes every time I ask a question. If you don’t want me assuming weird things you should really reply.

Your dear Ace

~ ♡ ~

Oh wonderful and gorgeous lady Isuka,

Since the party is next week I shall be assuming your attendance and will be awaiting your arrival

The extremely hot Ace

~ ♡ ~

He did indeed see her at both his brothers’ banquets in which he spent the whole affair sending her notes. Paying little royal brats with sweets to give them to her. sometimes a small gift would be sent instead of a note, a flower or a piece of jewellery. The flowers she kept in her notebook, going to preserve them and the jewellery stored away safely.

~ ♡ ~

My beautiful and splendid Isuka, whose hair shines too bright sometimes,

Will you be my girlfriend?

Your stunning now boyfriend Ace

~ ♡ ~

To my breathtaking, charming, dazzling, extremely good sword-fighter girlfriend,

Happy birthday, I hope you like your present. Bet you were wishing for a kiss right?

Ace

~ ♡ ~

He would not stop sending more letters with longer and more ridiculous lines. She couldn’t reply of course having been ignoring him for close to a year now.

She definitely couldn’t let anyone know that she kept those letters in her box, tucked safely next to her other treasures. She loved his handwriting, the scrawling way he wrote her name. She read them again and again, hearing his voice talking to her softly.

She was falling for him and she found herself minding less and less as she received more and more letters.

The words Draw had said to her as they dragged him to his execution faded slowly in her memory.

~ ♡ ~

When she saw him next he was turning 17. This time she let him pull her into a hug, ‘I hope you plan on listening to me now.’

‘Yeah, I missed your stupid voice.’

‘Why do you always do this,’ he pulled back.

‘Do what?’ she stared up at him with innocent eyes. He was taller now, and definitely had way more muscles compared to the last time she had hugged him.

‘Insult me,’ he was pouting now and she resisted the urge to poke one of his freckled cheeks.

‘Get a room the both of you!’ Medora shouted from the stairs.

Isuka pulled away from him so fast, the blush on her cheeks spreading to her ears.

Ace chuckled, looking back at her ‘so technically I did just assume we were dating, your answer is yes right?’

She smiled sort of deviously and for a second he was worried. So when she kissed him on the cheek and whispered a yes into his ear, he froze and she used the opportunity to sprint up the stairs to join Medora.

~ ♡ ~

#esuka #ace x isuka #portgas d ace #ensign isuka #alternate universe #royal au

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audiofictionuk · 1 year ago

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New Fiction Podcasts - 12th January (part 1)

Spirits and Monsters of Old Seattle Audio RPG Explore the supernatural history of Seattle in this Actual Play series using the Vaesen role-playing game system by Free League Publishing. https://audiofiction.co.uk/show.php?id=20240103-01 RSS: https://feeds.buzzsprout.com/2286750.rss

Married to the Northerner Audio Book Avani, a princess from the lands of the south; beloved and cherished by her people, hated and abused by her family. Despite having the finest dresses, sharpest knowledge, and incomparable beauty, all she yearns for is love. Nathaniel, the king of the northern land. His people love him more than anything, praising his leadership, bravery, and generosity. Everything he does is for the betterment of his people and kingdom. Other king's fear him, being his enemy is practically self destruction. When a proposal reaches to him from the southern King, his enemy, he already knew his answer. The strengths of both Kingdoms increase and have each other's back instead of being foes, in exchange for the marriage of Princess Avani and King Nathaniel. Thrown into a forced marriage, where cultures are intertwined, sacrifices are made, friendships are formed, and love blossoms. Will the Princess of the South and King of the North finally have their happy ending? https://audiofiction.co.uk/show.php?id=20240103-02 RSS: https://media.rss.com/married-to-the-northerner/feed.xml

The Wasteland Whisperers Audio Drama "The Wasteland Whisperers" emerged as a beacon of hope in post-outbreak Chernarus, filling the communication void left by the chaos of the epidemic. Led by Radio, this group of survivors established a makeshift broadcasting system using salvaged equipment from abandoned radio stations. Initially offering essential survival tips, their broadcasts evolved into a symbol of resilience and community, uniting isolated survivors. Despite challenges like equipment failures and bandit threats, they continue to provide a vital connection and hope to those scattered in the desolate landscape, reminding them that they are not alone in their struggle. https://audiofiction.co.uk/show.php?id=20240101-08 RSS: https://media.rss.com/wastelandwhisperers/feed.xml

Jack and Kitty's Feel-Good Stories Audio Book A scripted fiction podcast with new episodes every weekday. Happy and wholesome tales of inspiration, motivation and heartwarming drama. Hosted by Emmy Award winning and best selling authors Jack and Kitty Norton. https://audiofiction.co.uk/show.php?id=20240102-01 RSS: https://anchor.fm/s/eff9307c/podcast/rss

Roll For Focus Audio RPG A DnD Actual Play Podcast by an all queer and neurodivergent table. https://audiofiction.co.uk/show.php?id=20240103-03 RSS: https://feeds.acast.com/public/shows/rollforfocus

Mixtape Stories Audio Book Mixtape Stories is a collection of short stories and novellas where science fiction, humor, the search for meaning, and Gen X nostalgia meet. Come join us twice a month to experience retail time travel, alternate realities (not involving Nazis), and epic prose cast with the music and angst that made the middle-child generation so…whatever. https://audiofiction.co.uk/show.php?id=20240102-02 RSS: https://feeds.buzzsprout.com/2284452.rss

The Weird Library: Listen in the Dark Audio Book Welcome to THE WEIRD LIBRARY, featuring stories by some of today's most chilling voices in horror! And remember, if you can: Listen in the Dark. https://audiofiction.co.uk/show.php?id=20240102-03 RSS: https://feeds.libsyn.com/499003/rss

Good Content: A DND Podcast Audio RPG Everyone's future favorite DND podcast maybe? Guaranteed to make you laugh probably... https://audiofiction.co.uk/show.php?id=20240104-01 RSS: https://anchor.fm/s/e4338cb0/podcast/rss

Devolvemos la Conexión Audio Drama Ficción sonora o audio serie de terror con zombis que rinde homenaje al famoso programa de radio de Orson Welles que convulsionó Estados Unidos hace 85 años con su adaptación radiofónica de "La guerra de los mundos" y al maestro George A. Romero que estrenaba su película “Noche de los muertos vivientes” hace 55 años. https://audiofiction.co.uk/show.php?id=20240103-04 RSS: https://anchor.fm/s/e960e23c/podcast/rss

Spiked Eggs Podcast Audio Drama Deliciously twisted, darkly comic tales with a foot in both the present and the reimagined past. https://audiofiction.co.uk/show.php?id=20240105-01 RSS: https://feeds.buzzsprout.com/2282049.rss

FulFillment Audio Drama Two energetic co-workers navigate the ever changing landscape of their Boston-area fulfillment center. Their mishaps and adventures help them cope with the future of the modern work space. https://audiofiction.co.uk/show.php?id=20240105-02 RSS: https://anchor.fm/s/f00017ac/podcast/rss

David Jonathan Audio Book Jemand findet sich an einem Ort wieder, den er nicht kennt. Er erinnert sich nur an ein Zugunglück. Wie kommt er an diesen Ort? Ist alles nur ein Traum, während er im Krankenhaus behandelt wird? Anderwelt ist eine Serie, an der sich die Hörer interaktiv beteiligen können, indem sie Kontakt aufnehmen. Durch ihr Eingreifen werden sie Teil der Handlung und verändern den Ablauf. https://audiofiction.co.uk/show.php?id=20231222-03 RSS: https://audio.com/rss/author/1785442842271107

L.I.A.M - Le Podcast Audio Drama L.I.A.M, L’Intelligence Artificielle Multiverselle. Nous raconte l’histoire de notre futur, pour nous donner l’opportunité de le changer. https://audiofiction.co.uk/show.php?id=20240103-05 RSS: https://anchor.fm/s/ef452e10/podcast/rss

Ian Duncan MacDonald's Novels Audio Book The author, Ian MacDonald, narrates the contents of his three novels. A transcript of each chapter will be supplied after its podcast. The first novel to be narrated will be "BEWARE THE ABANDONED". It follows a poor, orphaned boy from Los Angeles who is enlisted by a non-religious capitalist sect in New Mexico. Their objective is to exploit gifted street children for the rest of their lives by turning them into wealthy entrepreneurs. The story moves from Paris to Las Vegas and Delaware with the FBI and the Mafia in hot pursuit. The next novel to be narrated will be "DUEL" . It explores a violent confrontation between the United States over the People's Republic of China over lease of abandoned British naval base on the impovershed Caribbean island of St. Matts. The third novel, "USING DROUGHT USA", is the story of a president anxious to win 80,000,000 votes in the South West who hatches a plot to invade Canada and redirect its water from empty, wilderness rivers to the Colorado River. https://audiofiction.co.uk/show.php?id=20231222-04 RSS: https://feeds.buzzsprout.com/2291387.rss

Der Acker Audio Book Der Acker .... was mit einem harmlosen Geschäft zwischen zwei Männern begonnen hatte wurde zu einer globalen Katastrophe. Nur ein junges Paar scheint durch Zufall die Lösung gefunden zu haben! Doch werden sie es noch rechtzeitig schaffen das schlimmste zu vermeiden um unsere Welt, wie wir sie kennen, zu retten? Geschrieben und gelesen von Enrico Gröbel https://audiofiction.co.uk/show.php?id=20240103-06 RSS: https://anchor.fm/s/df79d0e4/podcast/rss

#audio fiction #fiction podcast

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maximuswolf · 3 months ago

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The Tale of Ophraim.

The Tale of Ophraim. Ophraim wasn't a person, he was a phenomenon.If Robert Jhonson made a pact with the devil, Ophraim made a pact with God.For many, he was a God, or a kind of God.The God of music.His works resonated in the head of the most demented, were appreciated by the most layman, touched the most dissident, oniric.He was so good that we couldn't understand his own writing, everyone tried to rewrite his works and everyone failed.His music was to be enjoyed in the moment, no one could remember a single musical motif after its performance, but they still felt what the music had done.He didn't leave memories, he left impressions.He engraved in people's ears what they had never heard before and will never hear again.Ophraim made many students, many followers and admirers.His students learned to play music from him, his followers saw in him a path for their lives, his admirers... admired him.I was none of these three. In a way, I studied him.I helped build what he called the Garden of the Mind.A library with the aim of cataloging his music and that of other authors. Although no one could remember exactly what his music was like, as beautiful and complex as it was, there were still homages and approximations, which were beautiful, but incomparable to Ophraim's originality.For those who heard him, it was the "apex" moment of human beautyFor those who didn't hear it, they marveled at what they were trying to make similar.But art is a process of destruction in order to create.And his art was destroyed.The library, the only remnant and the closest thing we had to his art, was destroyed.No one knows who set it on fire.Ophraim was never seen again.His works, incomprehensible to some and intelligible to few, were lost.His followers saw the end of their lives.His students tried to preserve what remained of his art.His admirers never admired something so beautiful again.No one seen Ophraim again.No one heard Ophraim again.Some say he died in the library, consumed by fire and taken with his art.Some say he isolated himself when he saw his only effort at understanding your art reduced to ashes.Some say, "he returned to heaven".Ophraim was not a person, he was a phenomenon.And just like him, his music disappeared, leaving a mark on those who heard it.Ophraim was not forgotten, but his music was.Long live Ophraim. Submitted October 20, 2024 at 01:03AM by Content_Fish_5622 https://ift.tt/9bFtHhf via /r/Music

#IFTTT #reddit

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almostfancywombat · 5 years ago

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Amias Story Modern AU

(college au for my bastard children)

The end of class is all Amias needs to be spurred into thunder; tossing his bag over his shoulder, he catapults over the desk, clearing its length before landing with a flourish. Worn sneakers scrape against carpet as he launches into the hall, hearing his classmates and professor’s disgruntled exclamations.

Cheerfully humming, he weaves through his peers. Half-hearted greetings spill from his lips, the bare minimum to appease the hordes before he tears himself free from the surging throng, skirting along the hall’s edge, face nearly skimming the windows. Approaching the lobby, he soars out the doors and into the quad, dancing between the students milling about. Ever eccentric, Amias doesn’t draw much attention. If anything, it would be odder not to see him making a fool of himself.

Instead of returning to his car, he migrates to the library. Tucked into a study room, Amias spends the next hour editing next week’s video and ends up taking a nap on the beanbags strewn about, stealing half a dozen to hide beneath. Accompanied by a steady shuffle of papers and clicking keys, he weight on his chest and arctic air lulls him into a fitful nap.

Amias sleeps through his first two alarms and the student librarian wakes him when his 20th alarm blares. Thanking the girl, he tosses his belongings into his bag and rushes to the parking lot. Across the school, in the business department, Wren sits waiting for him to pick her up for lunch.

Shuffling along, he exits the building, squinting. He snags a scooter from a passing student and zips away. A cobbled path connects every department, and

Still rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he abandons the scooter on the stairs outside. He shoots Wren a message, sitting down as he awaits a response. Meanwhile, he studies the students dotting the yard.

The business sector is filled with point-dexters and wanna-be Finance Bros, everything Wren is not. Despite her hobbies, she’s majoring in International Commerce, minoring in Mandarin, and taking additional classes in Arabic. She must enjoy abusing her mind. Today, her final class ends at 1:00, and since he ferries her from place to place, Amias will treat her to lunch-dinner.

ME Where are you?? 😣 ❤️ Wren ❤️ otusdie bc 👍 Sorry talking with sb rn Stupid empjis

His head snaps around, scanning every nook and cranny. When he finally spots her, he’s surprised to find her sitting at a bench, sandwiched between a hijab-clad lady, and young man. Too youthful to be a college student, he has a fresh and startling visage, shocking Amias with traits atypical of his apparent race.

Though, it is difficult to be certain. As a world traveler, Amias has met people from all backgrounds, witnessed the pinnacle of beauty and fashion, yet none are as astounding as this boy.

An odd mix of characteristics. Tan skin, milky blue eyes and a nest of cinnamon sugar hair. He has a thousand-mile stare, deep, dark circles beneath his eyes. Despite this, his features are soft, not yet fully formed. He and the lady share the same eye shape, but they are otherwise incomparable.

Waving, Amias’ lips quirk upwards in the ghost of a smile. But when he realizes Wren is helping set up a laptop with high contrast mode and a million-point font, he cringes. His hand slips back to his side. The boy is visually impaired and not looking his way, but staring into space.

Wren huffs, still fiddling with the settings. “Sorry it’s taking so long. We should’ve done this during summer camp when we had the translators, but I didn’t have access to the school’s laptops.”

“It’s alright, you’ve done enough,” the lady says. To his linguistically untrained ears, her accent mistakenly registers as Turkish, but Amias is certain he’s incorrect.

The boy mumbles incoherently. Wren somehow understands.

“Yeah, it’s silly. I get that they’re busy, but the very least–” Wren accidentally hits text-to-speech, and the computer spews a Turkic-sounding language. She and the boy jolt, scrambling to turn down the volume.

Slinking over, Amias clears his throat, so as not to startle them. Keeping a safe distance between the other pair, he instead hovers over Wren, feeling her head on his chest. Fortunately, she recognizes the scent of his shampoo and relaxes.

“Amias! What are you doing here?”

He feels her head turn, cheek now pressing onto him.

“Surprise, surprise.” He grumbles. His hands glide over the screen, desperately accessing the toolbar. Despite the undecipherable language, he knows this model’s general layout well enough to disable the function. “I fell asleep in the library and woke up in time to treat you to Lunchner.”

“Oh shit. Can’t believe I almost missed Lunch-Dinner,” she whispers. She slams a few more keys, and the computer finishes its set-up procedures. The text is in what appears to be some Arabic script. “Great. Bye, Sieon, Sieon’s mom. I’ll see you next Thursday. Text or email me if you have any issues until then. I gave y’all my information, right?”

“Yes,” the lady answers, waving around a sticky note. “Thank you again, Wren.”

“S’no problem. Just glad to be of help.”

The boy mumbles and nods, leaning in toward the computer screen as he types a password. His other hand lifts a neon sticky note into the air. Wren’s number is imprinted with a thick permanent marker.

Unperturbed by his sudden appearance, the boy stares and murmurs in a foreign language. When she doesn’t respond, he repeats in the same quiet, steady tone.

Engrossed in packing her bag, it takes a seventh attempt until Wren notices. She takes a moment to process and cuts him off. She responds in Mandarin, which Amias mostly comprehends.

“Eh? Yeah, that’s my friend. 自从我哥哥最近找到工作以来，他就开车送我。I like going with him. 他总是给我送零食。” Slinging her bag over her shoulder, Wren practically throws out her hip to avoid hitting another table. She resumes on her way as if nothing happened and calls over her shoulder, waving. “Anyway, see ya.”

Amias waits until Wren occupies his side to move. Once they’re a safe distance away from the pair, he interrogates her.

“Who were you talking to?”

Wren inhales, prepping for a rant. “Sieon-Fletch Alimjan, a high-school junior. He’s taking English and dual-enrollment classes here.”

“And do you happen to know where he’s from?”

“Said he and his mom just moved from Urumqi, but his dad was already working in the States. They barely immigrated this past summer due to visa issues, and we actually met during June, at a camp I volunteered at. Apparently, the twin’s parents are their co-sponsors, and his dad is working for the same place my mom does, so we’re destined to be in each other’s lives in some way or another.” She scratches her cheek. “Even if he’s younger, I don’t mind. He reminds me of my brother.”

“It’s nice that you’re able to help,” notes Amias with a twinge of pride. She’s come a long way from refusing to even talk to teachers. “Look at you! You’ve developed such a talent for talking with people.”

Wren shrugs. “Not really. He speaks Uyghur, but more Mandarin than English, and I won that study abroad contest, so I’m pretty good at it. I’m only good with him because the admins sorta offered me extra credit for something to tour his family. We get along fine, but he has another aid to help him around when I can’t. Oh, guess what? He's going to Berlian, our old high school. Coincidence, isn’t it?” Then, in a quieter voice, she adds, “You know, I don’t think we would be friends if we hadn’t met so early.”

“How could you say that?” It stings, but he plays it off as a joke. While Amias knows his abrasive personality is off-putting, he’s always restrained it for her, just as she dilutes some aspects of hers. That’s how their relationship works, at least; they have clear boundaries that are hardly crossed, so there’s no reason to enforce arbitrary rules. “We were both weird kids, so I knew we’d get along. Who else had a family member who spoke French?”

“Roman,” she answers, balancing on a curb stop.

He winces. That weird band dictator who insists on auditioning despite having no time? Amias never wishes to make his acquaintance. “He doesn’t count because he’s Quebecois, and his accent is bad.”

Wren stares long and hard. She blinks slowly, like a cat. “I always knew French people were rude, but you’re like, unnecessarily evil sometimes.” Then, before he can act offended, she expertly switches topics. “Anyway, what’s so important that we gotta leave school early?”

“Nothing much,” says Amias, unlocking his car. Sliding behind the steering wheel, he tosses his bag into the backseat and toggles with the radio. Expectant, he eyes Wren. “I’m taking you to Dos-i-Deux to celebrate surviving our first day back.”

Clenching her jaw, Wren remains resolute. A homebody by nature, she prefers drinking instant coffee at home. He’s testing her, playing right into her weakness. But a glance at him sends her resolution tumbling.

“Fine,” she concedes, tossing her bag through the window. It hits him in the face and he carelessly chucks it, a small act of revenge. “Why do the coffee shops in town have the wackest names?” She ponders aloud and runs through a mental list before stopping abruptly. “Turn on the AC.”

“Do you pay for my gas?”

“Turn on the AC,” demands Wren, grabbing and flapping her collar.

He grabs her hand, stopping her from flashing passersby. They enter a staring contest, a death match between an immovable object and an unstoppable force. But relenting to Wren’s will is inevitable. She doesn’t have to say anything before he’s sighing and reaching for the dial.

Whatever. Whatever Wren wants, Wren will seize. It doesn’t help that, when it comes to her, Amias has a backbone like a chocolate eclair.

On full blast, a cold breeze knocks his hair into disarray. “Can I just lower it?”

“No.” Wren nods, then proceeds to steal his phone and monopolize the radio. Her taste in music is strange; she blares music from eras bygone in languages Amias has never heard.

Nevertheless, they mumble along, and when they reach Dos-i-Deux’s, he has already acquired a taste for Bad Bunny and indigenous Siberian rock. The latter is somewhat expected of her completely random tastes, but Amias picks up Morales influence; Lucinda has raved about the previous, but he hadn’t taken her word on the singer until now.

“The usual?”

Feet on the seat, she holds her knees to her chest. The blue light of her phone illuminates her face. “Yup. I’ll Venmo you the $6.50 later.”

Amias pauses to ruffle her hair. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll just deduct from your snack allowance when you come over to study.”

“Ugh.” She slides back in the seat, slamming a palm into her forehead. “Don’t remind me. Can we invite Pan? She’s the only reason we got into this school and she’ll be the only reason we stay in it.”

Laughing, Amias retrieves his wallet and crosses the parking lot. Head swiveling around, he takes in the city, hears its bustle. It’s near the local college campus and a well-placed suburb in a quieter part of town. What he wouldn’t do to leave this place.

Greeting the lady at the counter, he intends to ask about her paid internship. They’ve developed a repertoire, with him helping to introduce her to one of his many contacts while she offers free drinks and company whenever he doesn’t want to work at home. Much to his complete and utter dismay, an entirely different yet still familiar girl turns around to greet him.

Suddenly, the bright decor fades like watercolors left in the rain. The once cozy place, small with heaps of decorative pillows on benches, feels stifling. Is it getting hotter? Is he on the verge of fainting?

“Oh shit,” Amias mutters. Too late to exit, he steels himself and undergoes incredible mental gymnastics in the few seconds it takes to cross the threshold. To emotionally devastate her, or not? He better play it safe. He reciprocates Molly’s wave but lacks the enthusiasm, limp-wristed as his lips curl into a thin line. Leave, he must.

Attempting to place the order and bolt, Amias tries ignoring her, but that ghastly smile remains plastered across her face. After stating Wren’s simple order and requesting a substitution for regular milk, he divulges his diabetes-inducing concoction of syrup, coconut milk, and double whipped cream. Molly is excruciatingly slow to input it. With a heavy heart, he realizes he must participate in the treacherous thing called Small Talk.

Idle banter is not his style; it saps his very soul from his body.

“So, you work here now?”

Hilarious, coincidental, even, that it happens to be the cafe he frequents. He’s starred in a few local, cringe-worthy ads for the place, but perhaps it’s time to cut ties and move on to greater vistas, like their competitors who’ve offered to scoop him up once his contract ends.

The girl twirls a strand of dyed hair, a similar shade to his peroxide locks. “Yeah, today’s my first day. I just got hired.”

“Can’t believe you got another so soon,” grumbles Amias, jamming his card into the slot. “Don’t make my order, then. I’ll take my business elsewhere. I don’t want it to look like shit.”

“Why’re you being so mean?” Molly pouts, leaning in.

Amias grimaces. He forgot she’s into strange, strange things, influenced by the female version of those Alpha Male podcasts and mistakes his Molly-oriented misogyny for attraction.

Sighing, he tugs a chair free and plops onto it, slouching over the table. Amias scrolls through his messages, finding them mostly filled with alerts to redundant comments posted by his younger fanbase. Still, he responds to a fellow creator and a few subscribers in the time it takes Molly to prepare his order.

Scrutinizing it, he deems her training as effective. “Who trained you?”

She beams, relishing in him initiating the conversation. “Some exchange student. Aline something? Has a funny accent?”

He scoops up the drinks, making a mental reminder to inform the manager of Aline’s miraculous teaching abilities.

“M’kay, bye, thanks!” He says, voice sing-song. The second drink rests in his hand while his copiously sweet concoction rests in the crook of his elbow. He bolts before he can feel guilty about not leaving a tip.

Shuffling back to the car, Amias spots Wren staring at her phone, mouth moving. Puzzled, he observes her for a moment, knocking on the door to signal her to unlock it.

He steals a sip from both beverages before setting them in the cup holders. “Who were you talking to? Did Sieon call for something?”

Instead of her bumbling voice, a deeper register responds. “Me.”

Amias jolts, eyes darting to the rearview mirror. A pair of sharp, cat-like eyes stare back. Practically tossing himself into Wren’s lap, he peers between the seats. The boy looks to be seventeen or eighteen, likely his age. Entirely unbothered, dark brown eyes crinkle as the only hint at the smile he flashes beneath his mask. A hand rises to tousle long, wavy hair.

Gorgeous, gorgeous young man. Instantly, Amias decides to despise him with every fiber of his being as he unbuckles and turns around.

“Who the fuck are you and why are you in my car?”

“Language!” With a hand gripping his hair, Wren shoves Amias back into his seat. “Let me explain.”

“You better! He’s even wearing a mask.”

“Allergies,” the stranger justifies.

Utterly perplexed, Amias throws open the door. Turning back to Wren, he shoots her a look that demands she follow his example. With her complying, he grabs his keys and locks car, consequently trapping the boy inside.

The boy presses his face against the glass, miming sorrow. Wren laughs, and Amias snaps to reign in her attention, but he also drifts. From inside the shop, he spots Molly peeking out. When they make eye contact, he sends a withering glare her way. For good measure, he flips her off.

The intruder rolls down the window, studying them.

“Roll it back up,” Amias demands.

“Nah, leave him,” Wren says with a shrug.

“You’re fine with this?”

“Sure, why not? Let’s go inside. It’s not a complicated story, but I want him to tell you, too, and your car isn’t exactly the best place. He’s freaked out about how expensive it is.”

Inside? In Molly’s domain? Amias thinks the fuck not.

“Get back in. We’re going where there aren’t so many witnesses.”

“Don’t talk like that.”

Impossibly, the boy finds no issue with the statement. His compliance makes Amias feel like the worst person in the world as he slides back behind the wheel, intent on driving far, far from the establishment. To dissipate the stifling air, he flips through radio stations before connecting his phone. He scrolls through dozens of playlists, attempting to find one that would suit his assumption of the boy’s taste. He feels like it will be something entirely unexpected. Tedious, Amias deigns to ask.

“Do you have a favorite singer or band?”

“Lady Gaga,” comes his candid response.

And so, the listening party begins with Poker Face. Amias is too mentally exhausted to care when he realizes he accidentally looped the song and it repeats for the ride’s duration. Even more disturbing, the boy doesn’t seem to mind. Amias feels a spark of respect for the boy; he has no room to judge someone who demands to hear Lady Gaga after agreeing to be driven away by a stranger.

He speaks fluently, yet in short, choppy sentences, almost reserved. “I was chased by a dog. Wren allowed me inside, so I came.”

That’s one thing explained; she’s terrified of dogs and would gladly aid anyone suffering similarly. “But that doesn’t explain why you let him in my car.”

“I wouldn’t have if it was something smaller, but it was a labrador.” Leaning in, she tugs Amais down to her height, whispering in his ear. “Also, he was running super fast. It intrigued me.”

Oh. My. God. She has the mental process of a kindgartener when it comes to choosing people to become infatuated with.

Amias indignantly huffs. “So?”

Wren punches his arm, hard. “The kid I was helping set up the computer,” she begins, “is his host family’s son. They just moved to the area from across town because Yanan’s participating in some sports competition thing, and the best training center in the nation just so happens to belong to some local university. Right?”

Nodding, the newly-annointed Yanan beams. He seems eager to share every detail, but Amias lacks the patience for rants and cuts to the chase.

“Great. Nice meeting you, Yanan. Just tell me where you live. I’ll drop you off, but you owe me gas.”

“Money for gas,” adds Wren, clarifying.

Yanan tilts his head and huffs. “Sorry. All my money is still in yuan because I get better rates here - the rate is terrible when you do the exchange at home. I could give it later. Do you have WeChat?”

Amias scoffs; he’ll pass on trusting a stranger’s word. He supposes he must relent his incessant rudeness and be nice for once. Already, he plans for damage control and bribery in the likely case Yanan takes to the internet to share what a major jerk he is.

“Oh, never mind,” he piques. “My host family lives around this area. Thank you, but I’ll walk.”

“Problem solved, then,” Amias says, already dragging Wren to the car. But she halts when she hears her name, Yanan thwarting their escape.

“Wren, right?” Yanan tilts his head. “Let’s get coffee sometime. My treat.” He suggests, offering his phone. The case is obscenely cutesy, an animal with a transparent pocket containing a holographic photo. Stickers decorate the heap of metal and plastic.

“Sure,” says Wren. Weighing the device in her hands, she smiles. “What’d you give me this for? I believe you about the RMB to USD exchange rate being trash, but I think it’s currently seven to one.”

Yanan blanks. “What?”

“Huh?”

Amias releases a delirious laugh and praises the heavens for the first time in his life. Wren is too embarrassed to assume anything about other people’s intentions. She’s not shy and will gladly ask for clarification, but the gears in her brain turn very slowly when confronted with something strange.

He clears his throat, interjecting before she remembers why people give each other phones after making favorable first impressions.

“Come on. Your mom said I need to get you home before three today. She’s bringing over one of your neighbors for that tamale workshop.”

Yanan sneakily glances at his phone. It’s barely 1:05.

“Ooh, Mrs. Garcia. I love that old lady. Are you staying for that?”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Successful with his distraction, Amais swipes the phone from her hands and returns it to the mysterious exchange student. He places an arm around her shoulders and guides her back into the car. In the rearview mirror, he sees Yanan shaking his limbs out. Then, he leans down

“He seems like a nice boy,” comments Wren, sticking her hand out the window to view his escape. “If Sieon’s family is hosting him, what university do you think he's attending? What kinda major does he look like?”

Amias shrugs. Their university is down the street, then a conservatory for musicians, then acommunity college. In the next town over, there’s a trade school. He hopes Yanan attends one of the latter two and was only near their campus to tour it.

“I think he’d get along with our friends. It’s too bad we probably might not see him unless it’s through Sieon. People like him don’t live normal lives, do they?” Without allowing him a chance to breathe, she continues. “Do you think he’s doing online classes, holed up in a practice room? Then he practices to bring glory to a state that isn’t even in the same country as his and repeats the entire thing. And when he leaves, it’ll be without experiencing much of anything because he wasted all that time pursuing his craft.”

“Uh… Is that still a questions?” asks Amias, squinting.

“No, just observations. The thought is depressing. But could that be fulfilling to some people?”

Secretly, Amias hopes they’ll never see him again. For a more standard experience in an American university, Yanan should attend their rival school.

“Eh, maybe. You’re reading too much into this one interaction.” He nearly adds that she could always check if he’s on social media if she’s that concerned, but he’d rather enjoy her undivided attention for a moment longer.

Pulling out of the parking lot, Amias steers ahead. They soon come to a stop sign, where Yanan stands, plucking at keys on his phone. Wren rolls down the window and sticks her head out to offer a departing salutation. Yanan laughs, and Amias glares at him through the rearview mirror. Amias sees him reaching up to grab a descending flower. Bringing it to his nose, he waves.

Amias slams on the gas pedal, nearly flying over the speedbump.

“Hey, watch it!” Wren yelps, arms bracing herself against the dashboard.

Already, Wren has launched into a retelling of today’s events. Amias hopes this means she’s forgotten about the strange, new boy, but his dreams are crushed when she slams her head onto the dashboard and screeches, nearly causing him to swerve into a tree. Heart painfully thumping, he stares at her with wide eyes and gritted teeth. It feels like he’ll burst a vein.

“What?” He snarls. “What, Wren? What?”

“Was that dude asking for my number?”

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i-did-not-mean-to · 6 months ago

Text

T4T Nerdanel x Fëanor

So, let's start with this...I do not claim to be an expert on trans matters! My intention was not to be insensitive! Please forgive me if this depiction does not mirror your experience.

Prompts: Locked in a room, Let me help you with that

Pairing: T4T Fëanor x Nerdanel

Words: 1k

Warnings: Body dysmorphia, gender dysphoria, a kiss, a locked door

Art by the incomparable @mysandwichranaway (Commissions open!)

“It should be here somewhere,” Prince Fëanáro grunted as he dug through stacks and heaps of books frantically. “I know I’ve seen it!”

Outside the high windows, the day was dying, and he was running out of time—his father and “family” were surely already impatiently waiting for him to attend dinner.

Relieved that he’d donned appropriate garb before leaving on his personal quest for knowledge and relief, he turned his feverish attention to yet another pile of books.

As his long, detestably slender finger caressed the worn tomes’ cracked backs, he could hear the faint echo of laughter.

He knew that booming voice. Eru forfend, he’d forgotten that this was the night on which Mahtan, his teacher, and his eminent daughter were expected to join them.

Nerdanel, for that was her name, was a rare beauty in his opinion. By that, he meant that he’d never seen a woman half as enchanting and mysterious rather than that she possessed the classical pulchritude with which he’d once been blessed.

The reminder of the reality of his body, odious and disheartening to him, made him focus desperately on his search once more.

The door behind him opened; his candle flickered and then died in the sudden draft.

“My prince?” the full, deep voice of his mesmerising, impatiently awaited guest resounded inquisitively. “Your brother said you might be here.”

“I have no brother—what did he call me?” Fëanáro snapped without taking his eyes off the scratched leather for fear that he’d lose his ability to speak in intelligible sentences if he turned around to face Nerdanel.

“My prince? Prince Ñolofinwë informed me that Your Royal Highness might well be found in the old library. He was right—I don’t see why this displeases you?”

Padding over confidently, Nerdanel picked up a volume that had accidentally slipped under a rug; she chuckled wryly. “Ah, my father gave me this when I was but a young…lass.”

The hesitation in her usually so assertive speech did not go unnoticed. At last, Fëanáro whirled around, only to see her holding the very book he’d been searching so despairingly.

He’d always known that he was not the first to feel this way, imprisoned in a form he would have admired and cherished in another but could only loathe whenever he glimpsed it in a looking glass.

In the name of science, his father, Finwë, had added this treatise about how to find peace within that torturous contradiction of body and soul to his extensive library, and Fëanáro was in dire need of such guidance.

“Give it to me!” he hissed, but his unseemly fit of anger was interrupted by the telltale sound of the door closing with a resonating clang. “Oh no!”

Even though he hastened over at once, it was already too late. He’d meant to fix the lock, which blocked itself whenever the door was not handled with the utmost delicacy, but—in the haze of his unrelenting discomfort—he’d forgotten.

“Someone will come look for us before long,” Nerdanel said with a shrug when he explained to her that they were now effectively locked in. “Not to worry. Or are you very hungry, Sire?”

The slight mockery in her tone made him frown—his grimace of cold dismay habitually sent his younger half-siblings scampering away, but Nerdanel held his gaze brazenly.

“What do you want with the book?” she then asked, suspicion and curiosity bleeding into her voice and face. “What are such matters to you?”

In the chiaroscuro of the dusty room, Fëanáro felt at once braver and wearier than ever before, so he walked over to where she stood by the window without so much as trying to attract the attention of a few ambulating servants.

“It concerns me,” he admitted. “I feel…uncomfortable.”

“Let me help you with that,” Nerdanel laughed and hoisted herself up on a nearby reading desk, unmindful of the risk of being seen from below as she pulled up her pale green skirts and spread her legs invitingly. “Come here and tell me what irks you so.”

“I don’t look the way I want…I don’t feel the way I want,” Fëanáro exclaimed, throwing up his much too narrow, sinewy hands in frustration.

“I shall never be a dainty maiden,” Nerdanel grinned and tossed back her long, wavy hair. The deep red colour reminded Fëanáro of open fires, and he stepped dangerously close on instinct. “It doesn’t mean that I’m not a woman. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“You are lovely!” the bemused prince assured her in the most melting, earnest accents. “You are strong of mind and body—nobody can compare to your beauty.”

On account of her milky complexion, Nerdanel knew that he could see the blush creeping into her cheeks, but she was unashamed. Turning her face into the silvery light of the moon, she cocked her head teasingly.

“And you’re exquisite, dear Fëanáro, there’s nought about you with which you should find fault. My father praises your skill, and all the maidens are quite smitten with your dashing looks.”

Humming pensively, he slotted himself into the space between her thighs, breathing in her discreetly floral yet sharp scent.

“May I kiss you?” he asked as he let his nose trail up along the pale column of her bare throat.

“I’d very much welcome that,” she chuckled breathlessly. “I shall not wish for a bigger bosom if you won’t twist your neck trying to withhold yours.”

As he plunged into her welcoming warmth as into a cleansing bath, Fëanáro found that the book was entirely forgotten. This, her skin under his palms and her lips against his, was all he needed to be cured of the debilitating self-doubt that had plagued him lately.

He leaned forward, splaying his hand against her strong, muscular leg, and felt her shiver beneath his touch.

“You are precious,” he groaned as his heaving chest collided with hers.

“And you’re late for dinner, my Prince,” she giggled.

“Let them wait—I’m healing.”

@fellowshipofthefics new months, new fic!

Thank you so much for reading, my beloved!

⤻ Masterlist

#og post #IDNMT writes #fanfiction #writing #tolkien writing #jrrt #AU-gust Mashup #FOTFICS 2024 #FOTFICS #Fotfics August Challenge #Locked in a room #Let me help you with that #T4T #Fëanor #Nerdanel #Fëanor x Nerdanel

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lovelykhaleesiii · 1 year ago

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Okay, first of all, you are amazing bb! Love ya 💟 Second of all, what about that kind of disturbing idea. So we have Aegon! College Au. He falls for a quiet straight A’s girl. His total opposite. Becomes so obsessed and crazy over her that fucks only girls that look like her and jerks off to her innocent eyes. So let’s say one night he sees her at the party all alone. A perfect opportunity to make her drunk and high enough to fuck and tie up to him. So when he discovers her being a virgin he straight away makes her date him and eventually has her to his own! That’s it! Have free will to make this stalker shit-head chubby! With some real good smut 😋

My Dream Girl...

PAIRING: chubby!FratBoy!Aegon ii Targaryen x fem!Stark!Reader [MODERN College AU]

WORDS: 2,526.

WARNINGS: possessive!Aegon ii, mentions of virginity/losing virginity, female receiving (fingering), mentions of p in v sexual intercourse, innocence kink, praise kink, slight manipulation, boob play, mentions of alcohol/alcohol consumption.

A/N - ahhh bestie, apologies for the delay in responding, but this idea had me frothing. I have such a weakness for the good girl x bad boy trope idc!!! thank you for sending this incredible idea in and trusting me to write it... hope I did it justice!

She was a comforting sight... An incomparable beauty who was ignorant to her own potential. His audacious mind often wandered of how weak she would feel beneath this bare touch, how warm her panting breath would feel against his flesh, how divine she would taste...

Y/N Stark was unlike any girl he had ever laid eyes on before: not the typical choice for his quick, promiscuous rendezvous', she was a different breed. She was meticulous and studious, barely ever hearing a peep from her in class, with the exception of being spontaneously called upon to answer a question. She diligently did so, and yet with a softness in her voice, he could barely hear her words. She was bright, top of the class in fact, and yet quite reserved. He never truly saw her speak to others willingly nor did she socialise outside of class, often finding her succumbed to the quiet and stillness of the library, buried in dense texts hidden in some desolate corner. And yet, that made him want her even more, an insatiable desire to take her there and then in that corner, or in class, on her desk, or by her locker... The thoughts frequented his mind more often than usual, and more sinful... Aegon often felt feverish if he allowed his mind to dwell for long.

And as revolting as it would be, he could only truly sate himself with females of a similar resemblance to Y/N. Uncanny at the very least, he would often bed with girls, avoiding to stare directly or for too long, as he feared that his mind would soon decipher the difference, and the reality that it still was not her... He was desperate to deceive himself. He even went so far as to gather photographs of Y/N, whatever he could get his measly, pudgy hands on, envisioning her lustful face, her helpless moans begging for more of his, as he would fervently stroke his own hard cock. Pining for her with each devious paw, breathlessly cursing beneath a whisper at his misfortune.

He knew that luck would run out soon: that some fellow, more deserving of Y/N would whisk her away... And who was to say she was not already taken?

No, no... He consumed: he would pursue her still, possess her and keep her safe from harm's way, from the relentless harm of some infirm boy undeserving of even just a mere ounce of her attention.. Aegon truly deserved her: he had been convinced he would be the only rightful man to spoil her with joy, the only man to please her and sate her every need and desire. Only the best treatment for his special, dream girl, and he was certain to uphold that by any means possible...

"Invite her, Aemond... I know she's your closest rival in Anatomy. Invite her and just make sure she attends the party-" "And what would I get in return, exactly? You do realise she's an utter loner? The odds of her even showing up are slim to-" "You either make sure she does, and I won't have to fucking tell everyone about how you really lost that fucking eye, hmm? You know the sore, pathetic way you lost that eye. Lose all your credit with the ladies, you might just end up the freak of the year."

There she stood, her curves wrapped tightly in a red, velvet fabric, a long-sleeve modest dress. Although her body was frigid, her doe eyes intensely scanning the neon lit, dim room, small hands fidgeting in her lap with not a drink in sight, she was here. Anxious, it made his heart flutter with some warming amusement, a low chuckle escaping him lips, as he skulled a mouthful of the cheap, bitter beer to muffle his spontaneous laugh. Although Lannister had been incessantly yapping away by his, gripping, pulling and leaning towards Aegon's heavier mass, as he defeatedly tried to speak against the overpowering music. Aegon's concentration was fixated elsewhere...

"Excuse me-" Aegon lowly interrupted Jason, before brushing his lanky arm off his broad shoulder: Jason momentarily caught off guard as he witnessed Aegon walking ahead, only spared a few seconds before continuing on his ramble with the group before him.

"That doesn't seem right for a pretty girl to be sitting all alone, by herself at a party-"

His tone deep, yet a chord above a whisper, substantial for you to make sense of his moving mouth. Aegon had never spoken, let alone uttered a word to you before… The sudden change in his behaviour, felt a wave of unease across your body, as your empty stomach churned nauseously. Not that you were the type to catch his eye, nor the type of “partner” he often pursued the needy company of. And yet, here he stood in all his glory before you: his height towered your own menacingly, and his build was much larger, a wider frame than most of the boys across the campus. Mayhaps, he was an ex jock, you couldn’t truly say.

Despite Aegon being widely known around campus, as a vivid party goer, you scarcely knew about him personally, other than whispering, corridor rumours.

You knew more about the ventures and intricate details of his cock, than his interests and hobbies, as most of the female body would often gossip about their run ins with him. Not that you were unimpressed or disgusted… It was all quite, invigorating.

“Earth to Y/N!-” A more grander octave than before, his roar managed to snap you back to reality, drawing your attention solely unto him, as he intently ogled at you, eyeing you from head to toe, with a friendly smile across his face… And yet, the smile made no difference to your unsettled mind.

“You alright? You seem a little… Tense?”

“I-uh- I’m just n-not used to parties, y'know?… A-And I’m certainly not u-used to you s-speaking to me.”

The shy stutter in her voice was enough to make Aegon's heart skip a beat. Adorable, he thought.

"Is that so? Have we really never spoken before?" He lightly chuckled, taking another tasteful swallow of his beverage.

"Not that I can recall... Do you even know my name, Aegon?"

A swirl of his immediate emotions from the pit of his stomach felt conflicting: on one hand it stung that she thought him ignorant and ill-mannered enough to not know her name... And yet, the pleasant sound of his name, uttered from her lips, was plenty to make his cock twitch with sheer excitement.

"Of course I do, Y/N. You don't think I would know the name of the prettiest girl in class?"

The heat of your cheeks was enough for you to know they were reddened by his words. The friendly smile strewed across Aegon's handsome face, stirred about an elating sensation, and yet your self-doubt trampled the feeling.

Was he doing this all as part of some ill-twisted joke? A dare invoked by his fellow frat-boys, in repayment for some meaningless reward? Or was he simply that desperate to get inside your pants, considering he had bedded most of the female body...

"Aegon, stop it. I-I know what you're getting at... Just think outside of yourself, just this once. I'm not up for some stupid game-"

Just as your foot was inclined to take a brave step forward, a large, firm grip around your elbow kept you stationary.

"Hey-Hey, who said this was a game? I-I've been wanting to talk to you for a while now, Y/N... I guess I was just... Afraid."

Your plump mouth fallen agape, as your eyes widened in a titillating disbelief. Instead of taking the step forward, you took one back, taking Aegon's fascinating presence in.

"Y-You're afraid of me? The frat-boy of the campus is afraid of m-me?"

It was amusing on your behalf now: witnessing a grown, monumental figure that Aegon was strolling mindlessly around campus, unable to maintain eye contact as his unmoving gaze now fell to his shuffling feet.

"W-Well I just think you're beautiful, and you're incredibly smart. Definitely, too smart for the likes of me. Just don't think I would ever get a chance with you."

Once again, your meek body felt feverish as you were certain the evidence was plastered across your reddened, grinning face.

"You still think you got a chance, big boy?"

How the night had escalated in what felt like a mere span of an hour, you could not gather with certainty... Your mind clouded in clear judgement, slightly faint and tipsy, the earliest memory you could reminisce was a blend of pure laughter, gentle touching with Aegon, as he continued to pour your drinks.

You found yourself, in the intimate, privacy of his slightly unkempt dorm. He had adamantly kicked the previous couple out, as he reassuringly held your hand in his, leading you to follow his steps. Charmingly, you ended up comfortably sat atop Aegon's thick, sprawled lap.

"Fuck, you're beautiful-"

Aegon's rough hand reached towards your neck, gently stroking aside your loose strands, his handsome face leaning towards you until his plump lips softly fell onto your tender skin.

"Easy, Aeg-"

Immediately, Aegon pulled himself away, meeting your gaze with a furrowed brow.

"What's wrong, Princess?"

"I-I've just had a few to drink, and don't think this is the right thing to be doing... I-I've never really done this before, either," You reluctantly whisper, your fidgeting hands stopped, as Aegon's fingers entwined with yours, caressing your soft skin.

"As in you've never hooked up with anyone?"

"As in I-I'm-ugh-I'm-"

"It's okay, Y/N. Whatever you say, baby, stays with me."

Your busty chest [thanks to the supportive push-up bra], heaved with a final, deep breath, buying the time to build your final push of courage.

"I'm a virgin, Aeg... I-I've never done this before," Shyly you admit, as you place a loose strand behind your ear, still avoiding any ounce of eye contact with Aegon's piercing gaze: his lilac orbs did wonders.

"Y/N, princess... You have no reason to be ashamed, sweetheart. I find that quite attractive actually. I won't push it, if you don't want to, I can wait-"

"R-Really? You wouldn't think of me outdated?"

The handsome grin that made you somewhat uneasy upon your first encounter, now felt comforting. His plump lips that looked desirable, now you could taste against your own, as Aegon found his way, pummelling down against your lip-gloss stained mouth into a passionate kiss.

"How could I ever? You are the most previous thing I've ever held in these arms... How could I rush to perfection?"

In the weeks to progress, you often would pinch yourself, inflicting some pain to make certain this was your reality.

Aegon made every humane effort to ensure you knew how infatuated he was with you, how dear you were to him, and how raw his love was towards you.

He never manipulated nor pressured you into sex: taking it slow and steady, easing you into a few heated make-out sessions, although seizing his lust before things escalated.

He admired just how untainted you were, almost saint-like: adding more remarkable value to your rarity. The idea that he would be responsible for taking your virginity, that he would be the one to pop your sweet, sweet cherry, made the suspense of it all, palpable. He could just inhale the sexual tension oozing from your natural scent.

Much to his anticipation, you were ready.

Aegon patiently eased you in, his grasp and motions tender and light, he was intent on not using his own strength to overpower you so carelessly. His worrisome state had him abruptly and persistently asking if you were okay, before caving into his insatiable lust once more.

It was evident, Aegon knew his way around a woman's body: the effortless sway in how he handled your body, guiding it in certain positions before he found the right one. How his large, pudgy hands found their way kneading and squeezing at your sensitive breasts, earning a helpless moan from your behalf. Even flicking at your bare nipple with his teasing thumb, eliciting sensual whimpers, as you tried desperately to muffle your moans, harshly biting at your lip.

Thoughtless, completely succumbed to Aegon's advances, you felt his thick digits grazing over your slick folds.

"Already so wet, baby? Is my pretty girl ready for me, huh? Are you eager for my cock to sate her needs? Is she ready to be a woman?"

"Mhmm, y-yes, Aeg-"

"No, no, Princess. Now that's not what you call me, hmm."

Incoherent and numb to your own thoughts. You had never felt this oblivious, senseless to your own body, weak at Aegon's mercy.

"B-Big boy, m-my big boy."

The echo of his deep, growling chuckle timely reached your ears, making you eager for more.

"That's my good, good girl. Now show me just how perfect you are."

Where his fingers had once teased at your wet entrance, gently pumping in and out of your tight walls, Aegon's pulsating, reddened tip now grazed in its place instead. For a fleeting instance, you caught a quick glimpse of his cock: its naked sight, although overwhelming, was intriguing. You had seen many in textbooks before, or on porn-sites that you had cheekily ventured to. Yet none looked as grand nor as menacing as Aegon's: a moist, reddened tip, dark veins detailed along his length, you could just sense the throbbing ache of it. The length average, his girth was substantially exceptional: there was no doubt it would hurt, regardless.

The slow, steady ease into your folds, having to add some extra push to his shove, vigorously bucking his wide hips forward: did his cock manage to push through the tense fit.

Painful cries etched from your lips, as your face subtly grimaced in pain, the unfamiliar sensation was both agonising yet exhilarating. The feeling of your tight, velvet folds clenching over Aegon's mass, desperate to bury every inch of him deep inside of you.

"That's it, baby. Y-You're doing such a fucking good job, argh- I can just feel how desperate your pussy is for my cock. Made perfect to fit me."

His deep groans in unison to your breathless moans and pleas of his name, was a symphony to your ears. Sweet, jovial music.

"My perfect princess. H-How did I get so lucky, huh? I don't deserve you and yet, you were made just for me... The girl of my dreams, you are. My dream girl."

The soothing appraisal uttered in between Aegon's moans was beyond satisfying. His rough hands glued to your fleshy ass cheeks covering your surface in its entirety, nudging your sweaty, frail body once more in rhythm to his every harsh thrust: encouraging you to sway backwards and forwards, as his cock stretched you keenly out, swallowing him whole.

"I'm going to take good, real care of my dream girl. My dream girl won't need anyone else, when I'm around, not that anyone else can care for you l-like I can, ugh- That is my promise to you."

general taglist - @chompchompluke @fan-goddess @malfoytargaryen @hightowhxre @bibli0thecary @m1ndbrand @connorsui @elegantsplendour @randomdragonfires @sylasthegrim @arcielee @s-we-e-t-t-ea @sahvlren @aemondtargaryensrider @watercolorskyy @hypnos-daughter-certified @urmomsgirlfriend1 @backyardfolklore @snowprincesa1 @aegonslawyer

Aegon ii taglist - @who-told-you-this-was-butter @f4ll-for-you @amiraisgoingthruit @bucknastysbabe @jawline-of-steel

credit for dividers - @/itbmojojoejo

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