freakaz0ido

[freakaz0ido]

seven devils

duke!choso x reader

previous • wane • next (soon)

summary: Choso Kamo, the most recent Duke of Devonshire in his line, is the oldest of nine. Despite his efforts to guide his newest brother Yuuji on the proper path, he finds many obstacles to overcome. The greatest one being you. [wc: 5k]

cw: mdni (18+), bridgerton!au, angst, fluff, enemies to lovers, explicit and non-explicit mentions of abuse, choso is trying his best, yuuji doesnt know anything (lovingly), eventual smut, rivalry, HEAVY jealousy on choso's end

art: @//_MEME17 on X

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You really, really hated societal norms.

Well, that’s a lie. You do not bother yourself with such matters as long as it has nothing to do with you. Unfortunately, you have reached a point where that is no longer the case.

You stand, dolled up beyond your wildest dreams at the Queen’s castle. Adjusting the frumpy plume of feathers atop your head, you prepare to enter the hall where you will officially be introduced as an out woman of society. Otherwise known as the lion’s den.

Donned in all white from head to toe, you just want to be home and away from whatever… this is.

Your mind is elsewhere, thinking instead of your interaction with the Kamo brothers the previous week. You had continued to spend the rest of the afternoon with them. Yourself and the Duke mostly kept to yourselves, occasionally interacting for the happiness of Yuuji.

It’s been on your mind for days. 

The other girls look excited. Happy to be in the presence of the Queen, for this next chapter in their life. Marriage. How exciting, being stripped of your freedoms. Your mother notices your sour attitude and gives you a pinch on your arm.

“Ouch, Mother!” You hiss.

“Stand with your back straight. You look like a neanderthal.” She says, rolling her eyes, “And put a smile on that face. Now.”

You sigh dramatically, standing with your back a little taller. Your corset is tight, too tight, the restricted airflow and stomach pain making it harder to stay calm. The stitching on your sleeves is slightly off, the beads scratching your arms.

“I don’t understand why we can’t just wait another year.” You mutter.

Your mother straightens out her own gown, preparing to be seen by the Queen once more.

“Because, dearest, we’re getting sick of your rebellious trysts. Marriage is what’s best for you. You just need to have faith.”

Faith.

Faith in being married off to some random man who will do God only knows what with you. Maybe you will just be a porcelain doll, nothing but a pretty face. Maybe you’ll get lucky and your husband will have other women he has more interest in, allowing you to roam free.

“Her royal majesty, Queen Mei Mei!”

You’re not expecting to find love. Naivety is the enemy of self preservation. A love match is so rare that you’d have to be blessed by a particularly lucky star. You hope your future husband is at least only a few years older than you. Your dear friend from childhood was not so lucky.

The young ladies of the Ton begin to enter the hall one by one, getting closer to your spot in the line. Deep breaths, you remind yourself. The nerves are getting to you.

“Nerves?” Your mother murmurs, knowing how to read you.

You nod. She hums, staring straight ahead.

“You are beautiful. She will love you.” 

Your name is called.

Everyone in the room turns to look at you.

The Queen waits at the end, a soft smile etching on her face when she sees you. You begin to walk, heels clacking off the pristine marble. You interlock your hands in front of you to hide the shaking that everyone will inevitably see if you don’t.

You reach the throne, and you bow, gaze at the floor.

“I was wondering when I would see you walk across my floor, young lady.” The Queen says, a cheeky tone to her voice.

You return back to standing, trying your best to keep your voice even.

“As was I, your majesty.”

—

The first ball of the season, of course, is always at the Gojo estate.

From the rumours you have heard from whispers and jabs, the man is quite the partier and player of ladies’ hearts. You have never had the honour of attending such a lavish event until now. 

Yourself and your mother decide on a delicate baby blue gown with an elaborate beaded bodice for your entry into society. Cream coloured flowers intertwine into your hair, blue dyed diamond jewellery, long gloves and short heels slipped on as a final accessory.

You stare at the mirror in your room at yourself for a little longer than is likely necessary. You wonder, for the briefest moment, when you grew older. It felt like not too long ago that you were just a girl, galavanting around your house, not a care in the world. Your face is more defined, cheekbones no longer carrying the baby fat you had until you were eight and ten. 

More serious.

“It’s time, my lady.” Your maid speaks from the doorway.

You take a deep breath, letting it out with a smile as you nod at her.

The carriage ride is just as quiet as your time of reflection alone in your room. Your father is apathetic, as always. Your mother has finally finished her tirade of expectations she expects from you tonight.

The carriage, on the way out, passes by the Kamo estate. 

It seems rather empty.

You cringe at the notion that the Duke of Devonshire could be there tonight, of all days. Why would he choose to make an appearance now, on the day of your debut? He’s never cared about public appearances before. To bring the hermit out of his cage… this event is perhaps bigger than you previously anticipated.

This is too much. Too overwhelming.

Maybe you should be grateful to the Duke. The combination of nerves from the ball and the presence of your least favourite person at the moment ought to be enough of a hit to your personality to scare away any potential suitors.

“Not that any man would have interest in a woman so positively horrid.” 

What an insufferable, wretched ogre.

You really, really hate him.

The Gojo estate is grand indeed, much living up to its name. The front contains numerous statues and fountains, some of them bearing designs you’ve never quite seen before. The crowd is already present, people walking into the estate arm in arm.

The interior is just as lavish, trimmed in gold and dripping in crystals. You’ve never seen a house quite so large. You wonder if Prince Gojo is just as lavish as his home.

You walk through the double doors, looking down at the crowd below. There is music, dancing, and cheers. Drinks are passed around like small candies.

All the commotion, and all you can see is him.

—

Choso hates crowds.

He is relatively antisocial, which is already bad enough. Create the addition of drunkards bumping into him every second and boisterous laughter in his ears? He truly is in for a bad time. 

“How is the boy?” Nanami asks from beside him.

He sighs a great, deep sigh. He lost track of Yuuji earlier in the night after he seemed to make friends with some of the other younger children in attendance. He thought the black haired boy by his side seemed familiar, but couldn’t quite place it.

“I attempted to take your advice.” Choso begins.

“Attempted?” Nanami asks, amused.

“Indeed. He ended up running off again. Repeatedly. I’ve come to discover the root of his rebellion, however.” Choso replies, mood souring further.

Nanami takes a sip of his drink, pushing an already drunk Gojo off his shoulder when he leans for support.

“And what might that be?”

“The lady next door. He’s been running off with her doing foolish nonsense, speaking about who knows what. She’s vile, that one. A silver tongue and a devilish persona.” He seethes just thinking about you.

“Oh, the viscount’s daughter? From what I heard she’s rather reserved.” Gojo slurs.

Nanami cringes at Gojo’s alcohol ridden breath.

“Mind your own business. We’re having a conversation between men.”

Gojo gawks, clearly offended.

“Hey!”

Choso rolls his eyes, taking a small step away from the bickering men.

“I have tried to get rid of her, but she’s stubborn, and Yuuji even worse. I thought I had made a breakthrough until a few days back.” 

“Maybe he needs this. They seem to get along, and he doesn’t have any other friends.” Nanami suggests, Gojo nodding vehemently beside him.

He can feel his face scrunch up at the mere suggestion.

“He does not need friends. He has myself and our other brothers.” He states, proud and with finality.

Nanami and Gojo spare each other a quick glance, and Gojo turns to Choso, shrugging.

“Lord Kamo. Maybe you just need- ah. Speak of the devil.” He grins, pointing upwards.

You always manage to appear where he least wants to see you. He should have known better than to hope you would not be out this season.

You stand at the top of the stairs, perfection incarnate. Dress tidy, jewellery sparkling, not a hair out of place. The colour of your beaded attire almost makes you look angelic, he might say if he were a lesser man. But alas, he knows the truth of how you really are. 

He’s not swayed by pretty exteriors. 

Your eyes lock.

Choso scowls, and Prince Gojo laughs at him openly.

“Damn! She really pissed you off, huh?” Gojo snickers, still clinging to Nanami who now has accepted his fate.

“Speak like your title.” Nanami scolds.

—

Looking away from an obviously irate Duke Kamo, you make your way down the stairs. Your caller card is on your arm, and immediately a man you don’t recognize asks you for the next dance.

You shift uncomfortably, before your mother pushes you forward with an unencouraging “of course!”

While you knew how to dance, this man very obviously did not. 

Every other movement he would step on the tips of your heels, throwing you off balance. He would apologize after every mishap with a bashful smile, and you grit your teeth as you accepted the apologies like a good woman should.

The dances that followed were all the same. Forced smiles and fake laughs over jokes at the expense of your sex. What on Earth were these men thinking? Is this how the other women of the Ton were wooed?

Stepping off to the drink table, you go to grab a refreshment after all the dancing and speaking.

You would be surprised if any of these men had any thoughts at all in their clearly emptied skulls. Is it too much to ask for a man with a little intelligence? A man who did not stink the air with his absolute incompetence? None of these men had any hobbies other than degrading women and the lower class, and they couldn’t even pretend otherwise.

Sighing, you reach for a cup, only for another hand to reach for the same one.

“Pardon-”

“Excuse-”

You look up to meet a familiar set of tired, amber eyes.

You frown, grabbing the drink without hesitation once you realize who is beside you. He groans, running a hand over his face.

“Why is it always you?” The Duke groans, clearly asking God and not you.

You roll your eyes at his dramaticism, squinting at him disapprovingly.

“You are ridiculous. What are you doing here anyways? You never show your face in public.” You sneer, taking a sip of your lemonade.

“It’s none of your business what I am doing here. I do not even need to ask, clearly you’re here trying to steal the souls of the innocent men of the Ton. How is your success rate so far, by the way?” He jabs, grabbing a glass of his own.

“My success rate is just fine, thank you for asking. I’ve had plenty of dances thus far. No woman has approached you as of yet, I assume?” You ask innocently, batting your eyelashes.

Realistically, you know the truth. You’ve seen women approach him all night, and each one has been cast away without a second glance. Some deeper part of you wants to know why he is turning away all these eligible women. Hell, you even saw a daughter of a well known Marquess get shooed off.

His eyes narrow at your words, and his strong jaw is tense. His large frame towers over your own. His voice is quiet, quiet enough that only you and you alone can hear him. 

“I am not interested in marriage.”

“Is that what you tell yourself?”

“You’re rather nosy.”

“I try.”

He sighs, before deciding to answer honestly.

“It is not fiction, it is fact. I don’t concern myself with vows to another. I have more important duties to tend to.” He says.

“What duties?” You ask, raising an eyebrow, “Respectfully, my Lord, shouldn’t you be concerned with passing down your title?”

“My brothers.”

You pause at that, not expecting his answer.

“I am quite sure your brothers would survive if you married.” You decide on.

He rolls his eyes, as if talking to a petulant child with no understanding. It makes you bristle again, remembering the man you’re talking to.

“I know they would, I’m not a fool. Surviving is the least I want from them. I desire them to flourish in this world, and I cannot focus on making that happen if I have a wife on my arm. It would be another responsibility I do not intend to take on.”

“That is…” You trail off.

…Surprisingly reasonable of him. You’re not sure where his sudden bout of seriousness arose from, but you did not expect to even slightly understand his point of view. Surely, though, he still intends to marry? Marriage in the Ton is a business transaction. A man of his status is only one step lower than Prince Gojo. Does he not care even a little?

“I cannot say I completely understand. I am an only child. A woman, as well. I was never taught to reach for something other than marriage.” You confess.

He’s silent for a moment.

“It must be lonely.” The Duke states solemnly.

The two of you stare at the dancefloor, at the people circling around each other, all smiles and laughter. At those having genuine human connection. You take another sip of lemonade.

“Perhaps it is.” You say wistfully. “I cannot imagine living in a house with… how many brothers do you have?”

“Nine.”

A noise of surprise slips out of you. Nine? His poor mother.

You turn to reply to him, only to find him still looking ahead. His scar across his face is illuminated in this lighting. He’s wearing something slightly different today. A dark purple vest as opposed to the usual black, and a lilac coloured cravat. 

You’ve never seen him without a scowl on his face. The way his hair frames his face makes his features much softer, his shoulders much broader. You study the shadows of his cheekbones and jawline with minor awe, your lips parted slightly. Your heart skips a beat.

He’s almost… almost handso-

“What are you looking at?” He sneers down at you.

Ah. Nevermind.

“You have serious issues, my Lord.” You reply monotonously before walking away.

You can hear his scoff behind you as you leave. You keep walking anyways without turning back. 

A waiter comes by to take your empty glass from you. As the waiter passes by, there’s a man standing directly behind him looking at you. You squeak in surprise, and he lets out a gentle laugh.

“Apologies, my lady. I did not mean to startle you.” He speaks, voice saccharine and smooth.

You don’t think you have ever met a man so blatantly beautiful. Long, silky black hair reaching down to his mid back, odd ear piercings that you’ve never quite seen before. He’s dressed in a lavish emerald green suit, his shoes decorated with gold.

You feel your ears run hot, suddenly nervous.

“Ah, please do not apologize! I am just on edge is all, my Lord.” You shyly tell him.

He reaches out his arm, taking your hand in his own. Ever so gently, he lays a kiss on the back of your hand, and introduces himself.

“Suguru Geto, Earl of York. It is quite a pleasure to meet you, my lady.” He begins, “I have had my eye on you for some time now, and I knew I had to introduce myself.”

“The pleasure is mine, Lord Geto.” You say with a gentle bow.

Time seems to stop when he looks at you. His eyes are narrowed, zoned in on you like a serpent. You remove your hand from him, brushing his face with your finger briefly as you pull back. His smile widens, and you quite like the upward curve of his lips.

“May I interest you in a dance?”

Suguru Geto moves with grace, his words dripping in sweet decadent honey. Not even the finest orchestra could make a sound quite as pleasant. The song changes, just in time for his proposition, as if fate had aligned this moment for you. 

“Of course. You are in luck, my caller card happened to just have a space opened up.”

He grins. Lord Geto takes you to the floor, your arm laced in his.

“So, my dear, how is your first ball? It must be overwhelming.” He murmurs.

You sigh, feeling the weight that was lifted from his first introduction slowly piling back onto your shoulders. You spin, arm raised lightly to meet his own.

“It is indeed. To be honest with you, my Lord, I would much rather be at home with a book than here. I hope that does not offend you.” You confess.

He laughs gently. Your dress twirls when he moves around you.

“It does not. A reader, how delightful. Do you delight in just fiction, or some non-fiction as well?” He questions.

It surprises you, the fact that he actually wants to know you. Not just speak about himself, not ignore your words completely in lieu of looking at your face. 

“I partake in reading either. I have been reading more philosophy as of late, I quite enjoy the way it makes me question the world around us. Particularly in Descartes, reality is quite the mind bending concept.” You ramble, cutting yourself off before you talk too much.

Silence is a virtue, your mother’s voice rings loud in your head.

“Descartes, how fascinating. I myself have been rather enjoying Hobbes. The concept of humans craving to dominate their fellow man is something that resonates with me quite deeply. I agree with him on many fronts.” 

Suguru Geto, you come to realize, cannot be a real man. He moves with grace, does not step on your feet when he dances like many others. He’s an intellectual, opting to partake in conversations more than just the gossip of the Ton or his own achievements. He’s humble, gentle, and kind. 

Did the man in front of you crawl out of one of the many romance books you have in your library at home? It is the only explanation you can come up with for meeting a man so utterly perfect.

The dance ends much faster than you would like. 

You could talk to Lord Geto forever if given the opportunity. He seems to be staring elsewhere. You match his gaze, only to be met by the intense stare of Satoru Gojo. 

Duke Kamo is standing directly beside him as well with his own indecipherable look.

“Apologies, my lady. I’m afraid I must part.” He says.

You look up at him, trying to figure out a way to make him stay.

“Do the two of you know each other?” You ask in reference to the Prince staring daggers across the room.

Lord Geto looks over to the other man, a deep smile etching onto his face.

“Something like that.” He reaches down, placing a finger under your chin, “Don’t fret. We will meet again. I am quite sure of it.”

—

After your interaction with the Earl, it was safe to say you were wholly uninterested in dancing with any other men. You did, for the sake of your mother, but your mind was elsewhere. Even in your greetings to the Queen of England, your mind was in a trance. A spell cast on you that had yet to be lifted.

Keeping up appearances was exhausting. You did not know how you were going to do this for the rest of your life. The constant chatter, catching up with others, pretending to laugh at the meaningless conversations. It all felt so empty. Like everyone was in on a game of pretend that you were never invited to.

You slip away from the main ballroom, instead deciding to walk along the twisting paths surrounding the Gojo estate. You find yourself in the garden. A lush, well kept garden with flowers and greenery you’ve only seen in botany books.

Crouching down, you take one of the flowers in your palm, feeling along the soft blue petals. It was beautiful. More importantly, the surroundings were quiet. Silent enough that you could actually think. 

You continue to explore, heels clacking off the cobblestone path. There were massive archways of greenery, vines sneaking down and tickling your head as you passed through them. 

The moon was especially bright. Stars glimmering and illuminating the area around you. You close your eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath and just feeling. Feeling the breeze, smelling nature.

Yes, this is much where you prefer to be.

A soft fwip rings out nearby. You turn your head, but don’t see anything. Curiously, and perhaps foolishly, you go to follow the noise. When turning the corner, you see a pair of hands peeking around the bushes holding a book.

Could it be…?

Quickly, you run up to the person, hoping to see the man of your dreams once more. Of course, Lord Geto would be outside in the garden, away from the others-

You were excited. Until you turned and saw a very startled Duke Kamo sitting on a bench. You would have laughed at his expression had you not been so disappointed. After the initial shock wears off, he relaxes reluctantly.

“I am starting to think you’re following me.” He states suspiciously.

You sigh, shoulders slumping when you realize you may not see Lord Geto for a while longer than you had previously anticipated.

“Don’t be so vain. I just… I thought you were someone else is all.” You mutter.

Lord Kamo narrows his eyes, before deciding that there’s a good chance you’re telling the truth. He hums, going back to his book.

You see the book he’s reading, and recognize it very well.

“She dies in the end.” You tell him.

“I know. This is my second reading.” 

You groan, sitting down roughly beside him on the bench.

“That’s a shame, indeed. I wanted to ruin it for you.” You say with a cheeky smile.

He stares at you, appearing unsure of how to respond.

“You’re a nuisance.” He decides on.

You gawk at him, offended.

“Am not!” 

“Are too.”

Resisting the urge to childishly repeat your previous statement, you sulk beside him. You stare at the floor, kicking a rock. Crickets chirp as he continues to read his book.

“So why are you out here, then?” You ask.

“I do not enjoy being surrounded by people I don’t like.” He replies simply.

You hum in understanding.

“I was under the impression that you had friends in there.” You tell him.

The Duke chuckles without humour.

“I do not have friends. They are simply men I partake in business with.” He says, flipping a page of his book.

You relate to that. Not the business part, of course, because God forbid a lady partake in actual meaningful activities, but your childhood friends have long been married off to older men. You never really see them anymore, and your neighbours all keep to themselves.

“How is Yuuji tonight? I have barely seen him.” You ask.

“He is doing well for his first official public appearance. Although I believe he made some friends here, he has been running around with them for the most part. I do not mind. It is a night off for everyone, the boy deserves this break.” The Duke replies.

You notice that he’s actually smiling. You do not think you’ve ever seen him smile in the time you’ve spoken to him, and it is all because of Yuuji. You chuckle. It truly is harder to not smile around him than to feel an innate sense of joy.

“Although I worry about how they will affect his studies, I am glad he is making friends. I was never awarded such luxuries.”

He’s rather chatty when discussing his brothers. You refuse to admit to yourself that you might actually enjoy this conversation.

“Me neither. I think perhaps Yuuji is my friend, though. Maybe more like a little brother.”

“Friend is more likely, although still doubtful. He has enough siblings.”

You resist the urge to kick him on the shins, and instead take a deep breath to calm yourself.

“You know, Lord Kamo, you are a rather jealous man.” You say honestly.

His eyebrow twitches, immediately going to close his book.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Yuuji is allowed to have other adults in his life. He does not need you to dote on him.” 

You know you are treading into dangerous waters. Lord Kamo, you have come to discover, is disgustingly protective of his brothers. Questioning him is bound to get you in a bad situation. But what is the fun in playing simple games?

It’s fun to live life on the edge.

“What makes you, an outsider, think you know better for him than me?” He grits out.

“I am not saying I know better. I am simply implying that-”

“No. Enough of this. I will not play this game with you any longer.” Lord Kamo says, voice progressively increasing in volume, “Your meddling in our lives is getting out of han-”

“Listen to me!” You yell at him, irritated.

He pauses, a look of genuine disbelief in his features. Your voice is loud, echoing through the otherwise empty garden. You use his surprise to further continue your point.

“Yuuji needs help. He’s struggling to adapt to the Ton. I know because he’s told me as such. In his time of need, he requires a wider range of support. All you’re doing is isolating him.” You plead, before continuing, “All I want is what is best for him. I am sure you can say the same.”

“...You don’t know what I want.” He replies.

He opens his book back up to the page he was on, and continues reading. Aggravated, you stand up, ready to leave. You turn around to say one last piece to him, until you hear a loud call of your name.

Your mother.

Panic shoots down your spine as you assess your situation. Alone, unmarried, and in a secluded place unchaperoned with a man. It does not look good in the slightest. The worst part is you can see her.

She hasn’t noticed you yet, and she begins to turn around when a strong arm pulls you away from her line of vision.

Lord Kamo had pulled you out of your mother’s sight. Your body is now pressed up against the Duke’s in his hurry to remove you from view. He’s warm, warmer than you thought he would be for a cold summer night. Your heart races. 

Lord Kamo looks around the corner, waiting for your mother to leave. You can hear her still calling your name, but all you can focus on is the sound of your heart in your ears and the feeling of his chest rising and falling. 

“Just wait.” He murmurs lowly.

The bare skin of your chest brushes against the expensive silks of his suit. You cannot bring yourself to move, to think. To even look up at the man who’s holding you right now. 

Your mother’s voice grows distant, moving in the opposing direction from your current location. Lord Kamo releases you then, clearing his throat and moving to sit back down in his previous seat. You still cannot bring your limbs to move themselves, stuck in a standing position beside the tall bush. 

“What… I… Thank you.” You whisper.

“Do not thank me. It would have looked negatively on me if I was seen here with you.” He says nonchalantly.

You roll your eyes, annoyed at his lack of care. Of course that’s what it was. You feel stupid for thinking he actually had intentions that were for your benefit.

“There is something else I have to talk to you about.” The Duke states, stare suddenly serious.

Without thinking, you gulp uncomfortably. 

“What is it now?” You reply, trying to keep up your uncaring facade.

“That man you were with earlier. Stay away from him.”

Who…?

“...Lord Geto?” You ask, confused.

“Yes. Him.” He replies sternly.

You pause, choosing your words carefully.

“Is there a reason that you would like to share?” You ask, suddenly angry.

This was not a conversation you were expecting to have tonight, and especially not with the Duke of Devonshire for God’s sakes. What does he know, anyways? 

“... I cannot share why, but-”

You groan, expecting this sort of response.

“Listen, my Lord. This was a man who had treated me with kindness, a man who actually cared to know me. Until I met him, every interaction you have had with men has been wildly unpleasant. So no, I will not stop talking to him, and since you have the audacity to try to tell me what to do, I am ending this conversation. Good night.”

You begin to walk away, head held high. A hand grabs your arm, not enough to hurt, but firm enough to keep you in place. You turn to find the Duke’s face deadly serious.

“He is dangerous. I am warning you. Stay away from him.” He says, voice almost pleading.

You rip your arm away, choosing instead to join the party back inside rather than listen to his words any longer.

You scoff to yourself.

As if the Duke would ever beg. 

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a/n: im cooking up something else so im so behind on this but anyways hope u enjoy xoxo

[freakaz0ido]

choso x reader drabble, mdni (18+)! [wc: 1k]

════════════════════

Contrary to popular belief, and a piece of information known by only Yuuji, Choso isn’t really an asshole.

He just doesn’t really care about anything other than his brothers.

When he first met you, he treated you the same way he treats everyone else. With a high level of indifference and a penchant for unintentionally ignoring you. He ended up eventually becoming used to your presence as Yuuji had taken a liking to you.

Fine, whatever.

It was all okay until he started to genuinely care.

He was interested in what you were doing, where you were going. He wanted to know all your interests, your plans, the details of your family and friends. It was abnormal for him, and he was as fascinated by it as he was disturbed.

His purpose on this Earth was always to take care of his brothers, all nine of them now residing into one body in the form of his youngest brother. Your place in his life brought up uncomfortable questions about being something other than a brother, a protector. The fact that he might actually be more human than curse after all, a thought he had long since discarded.

Perhaps the worst consequence of all from meeting you was the fact that you wanted to know him as well.

And you yearned for all of him.

Now, don’t be fooled. Despite how he comes across, which is kind of naive, Choso is aware of the concept of reproduction. He knows that when two mates find each other, one inserts themself into another, and then… yeah. The point is, he knows.

His only qualm, and one discovered after many conversations with the human men surrounding him, is why they craved it so badly. What was the point? Clearly there was something he was missing if, according to his understanding, all these men were craving… having children?

This especially applies to Gojo Satoru, who frequently brings up the topic of ‘getting laid’. That man was definitely not suited for reproduction.

It wasn’t feasible, nor sensical. Choso, if nothing else, was a man of logic. 

Choso thinks he understands now while he’s fucking your wet, sloppy pussy.

From the moment he inserted his cock inside you with a soft ‘oh’ and a dropped mouth, he had the realization that he was completely and utterly fucked. 

You’re splayed out underneath him, tits bouncing with the force of every long, deep stroke inside you. You’re gasping for air, begging for more, and he can barely hear it over the sound of blood rushing in his ears.

He’s so fucking hard his dick hurts, and somewhere deep inside himself he knows that fucking you is the way to salvation.

“Fuck, your pussy is so fucking tight…feels so- so good.” He moans, head dipping in the junction of your neck and shoulder.

His thumb slides across the little nub that you said was your favourite spot, and he revels in the way it makes your pussy clench around him.

“Choso!” You sob, nails raking along the broad expanse of his back.

He can’t look anymore. Can’t see the way you cream around the base of his cock, won’t look at the stretch of your pussy around his heavy girth. It dregs up something from deep inside himself that he’s been putting off, unsure of what it means.

You pull his head up from your shoulder by the roots of his hair, your fingers weaving through his pigtails. Despite his avoidance, you make him look.

“Choso- fuck, yes! Look at that, baby. You’re stretching me out so good, doing so good for me!” You cry out.

You’re nearly folded in half at this point, your legs over his thick shoulders and your hips lifted off the bed. And look he does. He reaches around your legs, using his thumbs to spread your pussy lips and watch the way you take him. He groans, unabashed and filthy loud.

He can hear every loud squelch, feels it in his gut when the tip of his cock reaches the furthest point of your pussy he can possibly go. His cock twitches hard inside you, and that’s when he senses it.

That deep drop in his stomach that he’s been putting off because it feels so fucking intense and he’s genuinely scared.

And of course you know it, just like you know everything there is to know about him. 

“That’s it baby, you gonna cum?” You ask, voice a sweet coo.

He can’t even ask what that means because he’s so close to something and it’s at the tips of his fucking fingers. You hold his forehead to your own, watching every single movement on his face. He closes his eyes. Can’t look. Won’t.

“God, fuck, ngh!” He cries out, muscles pulled taught.

“Yes, yes Choso, cum inside me, fuck, I need it! Please, please, please.” You beg, mouth parted.

Whatever the fuck it is, he pushes himself as deep as he can go, his balls pull tight, and it happens hard. Moans fall freely from his lips, escaping into the heated and sweaty air of his bedroom. 

It feels fucking good, too good for Choso to even think about the noises coming from low in his chest, to feel your hands running across his scalp soothingly.

You quietly praise him as he rides out his high, gently rocking himself into you and subconsciously pushing his cum deeper and deeper. His eyes are squeezed shut so tightly, his brows furrowed so hard that a tear escapes him and slips down his cheek.

When the last spurt of cum leaves his cock, he leans back, looking at where the two of you are connected.

His amber eyes lock on to the pearly white semen dripping out of you around the rim of his cock. It awakens something deep and primal inside him. His vision is hazy, his head feeling like it’s full of cotton balls and marshmallows. He feels pride, satisfaction, he’s riding on cloud nine and he wants-

“More. I want more.”

════════════════════

a/n: just a glimpse into my twisted reality haha (CHOSO PLEASEEE YEAH WE WANT SOME)

[freakaz0ido]

seven devils

duke!choso x reader

previous • collision • next

summary: Choso Kamo, the most recent Duke of Devonshire in his line, is the oldest of nine. Despite his efforts to guide his newest brother Yuuji on the proper path, he finds many obstacles to overcome. The greatest one being you. [wc: 3.8k]

cw: mdni (18+), bridgerton!au, angst, fluff, enemies to lovers, explicit and non-explicit mentions of abuse, choso is trying his best, yuuji doesnt know anything (lovingly), eventual smut, rivalry, HEAVY jealousy on choso's end

art: @//_MEME17 on X

════════════════════

You’ve never actually heard your neighbour speak.

Really, you have only seen him in public thrice. Even then, his expression was monotone, his aura carrying an air of indifference to that around him. It’s a complete change from what you’re seeing now, which happens to be pure vitriol.

The duke is positively seething, his fists clenched tightly as he storms over to you and your younger companion. There’s a leaf in his hair, no doubt from the way he pushed himself through the greenery surrounding your estate.

“Choso!?” Yuuji exclaims, shooting up from his chair.

“I should have known you would be here.” He starts, making his way up the stone stairs, “Wasting away your time, partaking in frivolous activities while you ought to be back at the estate, with me, studying!”

His voice gradually grows louder as he speaks, as if he gets increasingly more irate as words continue to spill. You watch him, eyes wide, too stunned to speak.

“I-”

“No. Not another word from you. I took time away from the family business to be with you and it means absolutely nothing in your eyes. Do you ever think?!” Choso yells, cutting off his brother.

The hairs on your neck stand up. Immediately, you rush to the defense of Yuuji, who appears absolutely mortified.

“Your grace-” You step in sternly.

He swivels in your direction, sticking out a finger directly at you.

“You.” Choso spits, malice dripping from his words.

“You dare sit here, unmarried and unchaperoned, with my younger brother? Knowingly distracting him from his duties?”

You scoff at him, rising from your seat to stand at his level.

“I sit here, your grace, providing the companionship and care for your brother you so clearly are unable to give. What sort of brother are you, standing before your sibling positively berating him? In front of a lady, no less? You should feel ashamed!” You yell.

“Ashamed?” He laughs in disbelief. “I-”

“Yes, quite. Perhaps if you only listened to your brother’s thoughts instead of acting in your best interests, he would be inclined to stay on your property more often.” You frown, feeling the anger swelling in your chest.

Choso sputters. It’s clear, to you, that he is not used to being talked back to. Generally, you allow yourself to be walked on. You concede. Not for Yuuji. Never for him.

The duke regains his composure, eyebrows furrowing. His voice drops low, anger morphing from explosive to a simmering boil.

“Are your parents aware of the ways you spend your time? It’s quite unbecoming for a lady. The Ton would be scandalized. It would be an awful shame for it to get out.” He threatens.

“The Ton, Duke, already has their eyes on you. My time spent with Yuuji is nothing in comparison.”

He steps closer, pushing past his younger brother.

“They have a short attention span. The men, however, never forget. It is most certainly bound to put a halt to whatever plans you have for betrothal.” He sneers, towering over you. “Not that any man would have interest in a woman so positively horrid.” 

“Enough!”

Yuuji places a hand on his brother’s chest, pushing him backwards and away from you. Choso, surprised by his brother’s sudden outburst, stumbled slightly. Perhaps wrongly, you feel a sense of pride that Yuuji is standing up to his older brother.

“Yuuj-”

“No. No more. Let’s go back, Choso.” Yuuji says, bottom lip trembling.

He turns to look at you, and you resist the urge to comfort him. Yuuji looks genuinely distraught, and it pains you to know that you could be the cause.

“I’ll see you later, Big Sis.” He murmurs, grabbing his brother by the arm and dragging him away.

Choso stares at him.

You watch them leave, still covered in paint, and left with a looming sense of anxiety. Your heart races in your chest, mind unused to the adrenaline of speaking up.

While you did not process the duke’s words in the moment, the aftermath of the situation weighs heavy. You just spoke poorly of the duke to his face, a duke belonging to one of the most powerful families in the Ton. Talked down upon his skills as a brother, shamed his character.

There is a very, very good chance that you made a mistake. A grave one.

—

Choso has gone through the past few days in a mindless haze.

He can’t think straight, can’t focus. Every time he signs his name on another business related document he has no idea what he’s actually signing off on. Surely, whatever pursuits he is agreeing to will come back to haunt him later. 

When he attempts to focus, Yuuji’s voice rings out in his ear like some nightmare hallucination.

“I’ll see you later, Big Sis.”

Big Sis.

What a joke. A sick, evil joke being played on him.

Yuuji has yet to call Choso brother. Him, who took Yuuji in, fed him, cared for him, tried to give him every opportunity he could possibly have. Despite how hard he’s tried, Yuuji has not called him brother. Will not see him as such. Yet somehow, for whatever reason that Choso has yet to grasp, Yuuji refers to you as his sibling.

You.

Gods, Choso bloody hates you. What do you provide for Yuuji that Choso is not currently tending to? Matter of factly, you don’t do anything for him. 

Choso rips out his pocket watch, checking the time before throwing it down roughly on his desk.

He’s glad he scorned you. Thankful he managed to tell you what he truly thought. After all, you were a mere ant in the grand scheme of his life. Another flame threatening to ruin his family that he has snuffed out promptly. It has happened before, and it will happen long after you are ejected from their lives.

In the end, it ended up bringing Yuuji closer. He has not left the estate since then.

And no, that nagging, aching feeling he gets when he sees Yuuji studying constantly without question is not guilt. It could never be. The feeling is most definitely pride. He is proud that Yuuji is doing what he is supposed to. What is going to set him on the proper path.

In fact, because of the fact that his younger brother is studying so consistently, Choso decides in the spur of the moment that he’s going to take him out on the town. A peruse of the Ton. Surely, there is no better way to better accustom him to society, and a sure way to bring the two of them closer.

“Come, Yuuji. We must stop at this store.” Choso says, ushering his younger brother inside.

The Ton’s finest tailor is a gentle man, hair greying and demeanor calm. His store smells of leather and soft cashmere, the dark wood an inviting sight.

Choso sits while Yuuji gets fitted for new suits, the tailor quietly taking measurements. His younger brother looks entirely out of his element, which makes Choso chuckle.

“I understand it is odd, Yuuji, but you have a decided lack of proper attire. If you are truly to be integrated into the Ton, you must begin public appearances this season.” Choso states from his chair.

“Season?” Yuuji questions curiously.

“Indeed. Every year, the so-called marital mart begins. Every member of the Ton is back in town, and all eligible suitors attend various balls in order to find their match. It is a precarious affair, but one great for branching out and creating connections.” He explains, taking a sip of the tea provided.

Yuuji’s face pales, and Choso tilts his head inquisitively.

“Am… am I getting married?” Yuuji squeaks.

Choso laughs heartily this time, his chuckles sputtering out into a rough cough at his brother’s look of indignation.

“No, you are far too young. But, your presence is required, as is mine.” Choso smiles.

His brother takes a deep sigh of relief. The tailor moves to take measurements of his legs. He perks up soon after, gazing at Choso through the mirror.

“Are you getting married, then?”

He stills at that, teacup in hand. 

“No.”

“Why not? You’re definitely old enough if I’m not.” Yuuji asks.

He ignores Yuuji’s unintentional jab at his age, instead focusing on the first half of his question.

“I do not have time for such… distractions. My focus is on you and the rest of our brothers.” Choso decides on.

Yuuji hums. The tailor takes measurements of his wingspan, measuring tape going from shoulder to fingertips.

“I guess. Wouldn’t it make you at least a little pleased, though?” Yuuji ponders out loud.

Choso isn’t opposed to Yuuji’s line of questioning. It’s innocent chatter. He’s new to the Ton. Doesn’t understand that if you don’t have the proper footing, you get sucked under the current without a second thought. Choso’s only goal is to make sure that it doesn’t happen to his brothers.

Marriage is a commodity of status. Choso has never cared about his social standing.

“I’m afraid not.” He says instead, taking a sip from his cup.

Choso and Yuuji decide on colours that match the house Kamo, eventually coming to a mutual agreement after much bickering. The two leave the shop shortly after, continuing on with the promise from the tailor to have Yuuji’s suits prepared for season come.

Choso absentmindedly listens to Yuuji talk, humming when necessary in conversation. He’s more focused on the people who stare when they walk past. He can hear their whispers, and Choso isn’t unconvinced that they’re not trying to hide them. Whispers of Choso’s late father, of Yuuji, of him. It’s not often anyone from his family is seen in the public eye, and least of all Choso.

He knows that he shouldn’t be listening. He’s never cared about the chatter of the Ton before, why bother now? Perhaps it’s the whisper of his brother’s name that sends uneasy chills down his spine. He knows what people think of Yuuji and his acceptance into the household. He just wants to protect him from scrutiny, from the town’s ire.

He needs to make a proper public appearance, and soon. The Ton needs to be aware that Yuuji is a fully legitimate child in the family’s eye, no questions asked.

“Hey, Choso?”

“Yes?” He replies, voice strong.

He watches his brother shuffle uncomfortably for a moment. Sees the way he bites his lip in clear nervousness. He resists the urge to command him to just spit it out, and instead taps in to some of the patience he had been really using up lately.

“... What was he like? Your…our, father?”

Choso goes quiet. For a weak moment, he thinks about lying. He thinks about sparing Yuuji’s feelings, his hopes and dreams for what his father could have been. 

Choso could boast about his father’s achievements. He was debating sharing how their father was kind, loving, and wanted the best for his wife and children. How he looked up to him, wanted to be like him when he grew to an adult. That their father was a good man who swore to make a positive impression on every person he met.

It would all be utter bullshit.

“He was horrid.” Choso simply states.

“...horrid?” Yuuji repeats, as if testing the word on his tongue.

“Indeed. He was an awful man. He was cruel, vindictive, and the only thing that brought him joy was seeing others in pain.” Choso pauses, “I am truly glad you never met him.”

Because only God knows how he would have treated Yuuji had they met on this Earth.

His brother lets out a soft ‘oh’, choosing to mull over Choso’s words in silence. Choso stares at the budding greenery while they walk along cobblestone streets. Alas, it truly must be time for the season to start. The weather is moving along according to plan.

“I’m sorry you had to live with him.” Yuuji suddenly states.

When Choso turns to him, he’s surprised by the intensity of his younger brother’s eyes. It makes him feel bare. Vulnerable. Like he’s a boy again staring up at the shadow of his father’s fist. 

Choso chooses not to tell him the full story, and omits the part where if he were subjected to reliving his childhood once over, he would still take all the lashings in place of his brothers every single time again and again. Would throw his small frame over his mother to shield her, would take the blame for every foolish accident his brothers made. So, he says the only words that dare come instead.

“Don’t be.”

Choso is glad that at least his brother is easily distracted. The atmosphere immediately changed when he saw a sweets shop, Yuuji clearly forgetting about the previous conversation almost instantaneously.

It allows him a moment to relax. Even with the brothers he grew up with, he never spoke about the childhood they endured. It just wasn’t something Choso ever felt like sharing. He felt, however, that he owed Yuuji a little piece of his lineage. Something to fit the puzzle pieces together.

“Big sis?!” 

Choso promptly kills his line of thinking and looks straight ahead. His mood immediately sours, jaw clenched instinctually.

Of course they run into you.

—

Of course you run into him.

The two brothers are seemingly having a shopping spree, their butler behind them carrying multiple bags of product. Yuuji, as joyous as ever, sprints to meet you at your position. You just wanted some time away from your suffocating household, only to be met with an even more precarious situation.

“Yuuji! I’m surprised to see you here.” You smile, the grin not quite reaching your eyes.

How could it, when the newly appointed Duke of Devonshire is staring awful daggers at you? Your maid behind you shifts uncomfortably at the tension, while Yuuji remains unaware.

“Me too! What are you doing here? Hey, Choso, can she join us? Please?” Yuuji turns to his brother, his voice a high plea.

“Oh, no! I wouldn’t dare intrude.” You interrupt, shaking your hands.

“Good.” Choso mutters under his breath.

“Nonsense! Choso?” 

Silently, you’re praying for him to say no. You love Yuuji with all your heart, you truly do. But his brother is downright insufferable, and you’d rather not deal with him at all. Your heart drops when you see the brief softening of the Duke’s eyes at his brother’s pleading. Sinks even more when that gaze towards his sibling is followed by a nasty side-eye at you.

“...Alright.” He concedes.

The immediate whoops that follow from Yuuji catch the attention of multiple passerbys, and you resist the urge to grip your hair and yank it right out.

Especially when Yuuji runs ahead of you, lost in his own thoughts, leaving you to stroll beside his older brother. As soon as Yuuji is out of earshot, Choso speaks.

“You couldn’t resist butting into our time, could you?” He seethes.

You scoff, not bothering to look up at him.

“Don’t be so conceited. Not everything is about you.” You quip back.

“Right, of course.” He rolls his eyes, “The same way that you attempting to turn my brother against me has nothing to do with me either?”

“Exactly. I’m glad you are finally understanding.” You say, continuing, “And I’m not turning your brother against you. He just happens to like me better. No shame in that.”

In your peripheral, you can see the way he bristles at your words. His hands clench at his sides before forcibly relaxing and smoothing out his tailored suit.

“I’m his brother. You’re insignificant in his life compared to me.” 

“Right, keep telling yourself that.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” He grits out.

Yuuji takes a turn down a side street, and the two of you swivel to follow him.

“It means that maybe if you took the stick out of your arse he would actually want to spend time with you.” You whisper venomously.

He lets out an indignant laugh, tight and restricted.

“You know, for a lady you have the vocabulary of a damned brute. I’m not surprised you’re unmarried.” He sneers.

“And what about you, then? I wouldn’t be shocked to discover you’ve scared off any potential suitors with your insufferable personality.” You jab, offended.

“As a man, I have better things to do than worry about suitors. Have the paint fumes gotten to your head?” He jeers with a pointed smirk.

“You are-” You grumble, before pausing.

He’s already looking down at you, and you make true eye contact with him for the first time. Your breathing is heavy, your body worked up with all the back and forth. 

His shoulders are pulled back, making his already big frame even bigger. His jaw is clenched, pure malice in his eyes. You’re not scared of him. This isn’t the first time you’ve faced such vitriol in a man’s expression. 

So what is this feeling in your chest when he glares down at you? Your heart is pumping, not having spoken up like this in your life until now.

“- an ogre. A bloody ogre of a man.” You finish, looking away.

“I’m so hurt.” He states, voice overtly monotone.

“Big sister! Choso! I want to go in here!” Yuuji calls out from a few paces ahead, a wide smile on his face as he points to the shop of his choosing.

A bookstore.

“Of course! Let us go in.” You say, pushing Yuuji into the store and leaving his brother and your maid behind.

The bell atop the door chimes as you enter. It’s an old, dusty bookshop. Rickety shelves, wooden floorboards that creak under your every step. However, you know this bookstore, and being in here is a great sense of comfort right now. There’s no other bookstore in the Ton that has as wide and diverse of a collection as this, and you often spend your time here.

Having the Duke here now feels like an invasion of space.

Yuuji walks along the store, running his fingers along the spines of books as he moves. The two of you watch him, each now dedicated to ignoring the other. Your maid, having witnessed the whole ordeal, stands behind you flabbergasted. 

You decide to split away from the two to get some air. 

Not that there is much air in the bookstore. It’s stuffy, dust flying around and the overwhelming scent of leather and raw paper permeating the air around you. 

You pick up the occasional copy, reading the synopsis and putting it back. Romance novels, the occasional fantasy or mystery book. You pick up a romance novel where the two main characters hate each other, and you huff out a laugh.

They don’t know what it’s really like to hate someone, you think, as you stare daggers at the man you despise through the bookshelf.

That’s not quite fair, you think briefly. You don’t really hate him, per se. You hate his entitlement. His pride. His affliction towards always wanted to be a bastard. Clearly there is something in him worth liking, as Yuuji seems to still want to impress and be close to him.

You never want to be close enough to figure it out. You might die of a heart attack if you deal with him for more than a few minutes at a time.

The chatter from the other side of the store gets louder, and you put the book in your hands back on the shelf. Stepping towards the noise, you listen in to the conversation being had.

“-I do not care. Put it back.”

“Choso, please! It’s just a book. I really want it.”

“I already told you no. You don’t ever listen to me. What about this one? It is philosophy. Important for your education.”

Fighting again, it seems.

“What is going on?” You ask, stepping around the corner.

Yuuji is obviously frustrated, holding a small book in his hands. Choso, even more irate, is across from him.

“Nothing.” He murmurs, placing the book down on the shelf.

“Yuuji…” Choso lets out a deep sigh, rubbing his temples.

You pick up the book the younger dropped. A fiction, of course. Another fantasy, more specifically. That must’ve been the issue. You’re well aware of how little the Duke sees in fiction novels. You stare at it in your palms for a moment before you make the decision.

“Hey, Yuuji, I have this book. I can lend it to you to read in your spare time.”

He perks up, positively beaming when he turns around.

“Really?!” He exclaims.

You can see Choso scowling at you, opening his mouth to speak. You quickly move to correct yourself before he can dig himself into a deeper hole with Yuuji.

“Now remember, just during your free time! It should not interfere with your studying.” You emphasize.

He nods vehemently. Yuuji lets out a loud repeated ‘thank you’ and grins at Choso before giving him a bruising hug. Choso’s eyes widened in surprise. Before he can process, Yuuji is already gone, skipping ahead once more.

You watch him go, a soft smile on your face. 

Choso, instead, watches you.

[freakaz0ido]

masterlist

jujutsu kaisen

➻ Drabble . . . sukuna x wife!reader [wc: 2k]

summary: Sukuna, in his own way, loves his wife.

➻ Drabble . . . choso x reader [wc: 1k]

summary: Choso learns to love, to discover himself, and what it's like to get his dick wet

➻ Seven Devils . . . duke!choso x reader [wc: ongoing]

summary: Choso Kamo, the most recent Duke of Devonshire in his line, is the oldest of nine. Despite his efforts to guide his newest brother Yuuji on the proper path, he finds many obstacles to overcome. The greatest one being you.

[freakaz0ido]

seven devils

duke!choso x reader

previous • interlude • next

summary: Choso Kamo, the most recent Duke of Devonshire in his line, is the oldest of nine. Despite his efforts to guide his newest brother Yuuji on the proper path, he finds many obstacles to overcome. The greatest one being you. [wc: 6.4k]

cw: mdni (18+), bridgerton!au, angst, fluff, enemies to lovers, explicit and non-explicit mentions of abuse, choso is trying his best, yuuji doesnt know anything (lovingly), eventual smut

art: @//_MEME17 on X

════════════��═══════

Choso wishes he could give his Father one final kick in the arse.

It’s a damned shame he’s as deceased as can be. While Choso is forever grateful of that fact, he was not expecting to be left with such a parting gift.

The Kamo family is an old, ancient line with many connections to the royal family. Choso’s Father, the Duke of Devonshire, was a cruel man with a penchant for violence. Once he passed, the title was swiftly transferred to Choso. He hated his father with a flaming passion, loathed his cruelty. 

He’s grateful for one thing granted to him by his Father, and one thing only. This gift, one which he did not ask for but is elated to possess, being his eight brothers. Choso adores each and every one of them, and dotes on them accordingly. Makes sure they’re all taken care of, studying as they should be, and making their transition into workdom for the royal family.

What he’s less grateful for, much to his very strong dismay, is the hidden illegitimate son that his Father kept secret until the reading of his will. He couldn’t even have the decency to provide for the boy while he was alive.

There is nothing Choso hates more than a man who rejects familial values.

Alas, Choso is taking it in stride. He prides himself on being a good older brother, and a ninth is nothing in comparison to raising the others. No matter his legitimacy to the Kamo family, this boy is Choso’s brother, and he will treat him the same as all the others. 

It’s a shame that this one happens to be the most rambunctious, carefree, and utterly mindless of them all. 

Choso is getting too old for raising more children.

“Holy shit! This is where you live?!”

“Yuuji. Do not speak with such crass language, you are of nobility now.” Choso scolds, giving his youngest brother a stern look.

He’s never thought too much about the wealth or abundance of property he now possesses at his fingertips. To him, it serves as nothing more than a means to care for his siblings. 

For many others, the Kamo estate is a sight to behold. The manor is large and foreboding, everything prim and proper. No guest would ever be able to find even a speck of dust lingering on the premises. His father made sure it stayed that way. By habit, Choso ensures the same.

Much of the Kamo affluence was gained by both participation and donation to academic achievement. More specifically, the furtherment of scientific advancement for the Kingdom of England. Choso himself is an academic, studying towards doctorate status before the passing of his Father. He was required to take over the business ordeals from then onwards. To this day, it still fills him with a sense of bitterness. He had expected this as the eldest son, but had hoped selfishly to be able to pursue his passions for a time longer.

The majority of his brothers are studying abroad for that very reason. It often becomes lonely for Choso without them present, but he has an inkling that emotion will soon dissipate with the entry of his wide eyed little brother.

Choso expects Yuuji to follow in these same footsteps as the rest of his family.

While watching him scarf down his food at the dinner table like a wild animal, he realizes he has a long way to go to reach such a goal.

“Yuuji. Fix your posture, and refrain from eating so…ravenously. The food is not departing.” He corrects, and Yuuji immediately stands straight.

“Sorry, Choso! S’just so good.” He groans, speaking with a mouth full of lamb.

Choso cringes, but decides against scolding him further. The boy is new to this way of living, after all. He must remain patient.

“Tomorrow you will resume schooling. I have enlisted a private tutor to guide you. At eight in the morning sharp, you will meet with the tutor in the library. This is to continue until you reach the age for University.” Choso says, taking a bite of roasted vegetables.

Yuuji raises his hand, and Choso resists the urge to chuckle at him.

“You do not have to raise your hand to speak, Yuuji.” He says, lips upturned.

“Right. Choso, you said resume schooling?” Yuuji starts, confused.

“Indeed. Academics are important. You must study hard.” Choso confirms.

“Right, right. So, let’s say, perchance, that I didn’t go to school. What then?” 

Choso nearly chokes on his food, a rough cough leaving his throat. He stares at the boy across the table in abject surprise, waiting to see if the young boy just had an odd sense of humour. He doesn’t.

“You… never received any forms of education?” Choso prods, eye twitching.

“Nope.” Yuuji says, popping the ‘p’ sound, “Grew up with just Mom and the rest of the maids. Mom died when I was little though, so really it was just me and the maids. They took care of me, and they were really nice, but I mostly was just a servant I suppose.”

On one hand, he’s livid that education is so inaccessible for the lower class where Yuuji was raised. On the flipside, Choso is disturbed at the thought his younger brother is this far behind, and will begin child’s learning at the age of five and ten.

Choso, head in hands, is coming to the realization that yes, he does have a very long way to go.

—

“Choso, this is boring!” Yuuji pouts, head on Choso’s desk.

Choso leans back in his leather chair, the floorboards creaking under his movements.

“It is not boring. These are things you must know. I know you can do it.” Choso encourages, flipping through papers.

While Yuuji completes the homework provided by his tutor, Choso watches over him, providing help occasionally where required. It is no detriment to him, as both learning and teaching have always come easy to the eldest son. After all, he’s been doing this since the birth of his first brother.

Choso believes that everyone has a capability to learn, and there is intelligence in every person, regardless of the subject of study.

Much to his dismay, Yuuji is testing that belief. 

He had hoped that, after some time settling in, Yuuji would take to academics as the rest of his family has. It’s not happening, and Choso doesn’t know how to handle it. It’s an obstacle he has not faced.

“You really have to know this stuff?” Yuuji whines, face planted on the dark wood in front of him.

“You do. Yuuji, this is merely elementary work. You still must properly catch up to your age group from this point onwards.”

Yuuji groans, running a hand through his hair. Much to Choso’s relief, he begins to work again. He scribbles down various notes on the page. Choso signs his name on a few documents, and reads through another before his little brother speaks again.

“Choso! Let’s play football!” Yuuji chirps, throwing his pencil on the desk.

Choso sighs, taking off his reading glasses to rub his eyes.

“I have work to tend to. Additionally, I do not play sports. I find them irrelevant and an unnecessary distraction.” Choso says flippantly, brushing off Yuuji.

He goes back to his paperwork, intent on finishing everything that needs to be done. The clock on the wall ticks, filling the cold and empty room with its repetition. The quiet is unusual. Choso looks back up in response to Yuuji’s silence, and his heart squeezes at the sight.

Yuuji is quite obviously crestfallen by Choso’s words, his face scrunched up while he does his work. Choso immediately feels guilty for shutting him down so roughly. His other brothers are used to his lack of tact, but Yuuji has not experienced it yet. He stutters a few times, trying to find the words to say to Yuuji to make the expression on his face disappear.

“Yuuji, I…. I apologize. I did not mean to be so rude. You must ask Eso after your homework. I’m positive he would be more than happy to oblige.” Choso offers.

A smile graces his brother’s features again, bringing great relief to Choso.

“Sure!”

Yuuji seems motivated to complete his work following the conversation. Choso watches him with a smile. He’s animatedly scribbling, tongue peeking out with concentration. He’s so full of life. So joyful, views the world with so much hope.

So… simple. Not in a demeaning way. Choso is glad Yuuji is left without burdens despite his less fortunate upbringing. He wishes he could say the same. Desires to be as free as Yuuji.

“Choso?” Yuuji asks.

“What is it, Brother?”

Yuuji pauses, lips pursed. Turmoil burns behind his eyes, his body language doing a complete switch from how he was moments prior.

“...Why did you take me in?” Yuuji murmurs, the question barely reaching Choso’s ears.

Choso stiffens, his arms that were once crossed falling to his lap.

“Pardon?” Choso asks, bewildered.

“I mean, you could have just left me there. I would’ve been fine. I don’t… I clearly don’t belong here. In the grand scheme of things, I’m not even really your br-”

“Enough of this nonsense.” Choso barks, shooting out of his chair.

Yuuji jumps, his jaw dropping open as Choso storms around his side of the desk. He kneels down, placing a firm hand on Yuuji’s.

The look in his eyes is fierce. Unyielding. Displays every ounce of loyalty that his brother must know he has for him.

“You are my brother. In every way. I exist to ensure all my siblings are well cared for, you included. You are welcome here. This will always be your home, no matter the words of others.” 

Choso does not take kindly to people insulting his brothers. This includes when they speak ill of themselves. It’s a line that Choso will not allow anyone to cross.

Yuuji nods in reluctant acceptance, grabbing Choso’s hand back. 

Choso realizes, then, that maybe he had the wrong impression of Yuuji. His expression is plastered with fears that have been lingering under the surface, afraid to come out. He mentally kicks himself for not noticing sooner.

Of course he’d be fucking scared. Yuuji has been uprooted from his home, taken from anything he ever knew. Placed him in a new environment with no preparation, left him to explore a frankly gargantuan manor that is barely filled with material items let alone souls. In his mind, he’s alone. He’s afraid.

Choso has taken the wrong approach.

It’s not easy to fix the mess he’s found himself in. This was not how Choso was raised. Not how he was taught to deal with these kinds of situations. Emotions were not his greatest strength. He shows his care not with words, but rather actions.

He ruffles Yuuji’s hair, and sits back in his chair. 

“Postpone the homework for tomorrow day, Yuuji. Go, enjoy yourself.” He says, trying his best to seem as relaxed as possible.

“Really?!” Yuuji exclaims, jumping up.

Before Choso can even reply and inform him that it’s a one time ordeal, Yuuji has already thrown the door open, his heavy footsteps running down the hall. His brief call for his other brother is heard, and Choso chuckles at the sound.

—

Choso’s laxness with Yuuji has become a curse.

He’s finding it increasingly hard to say ‘no’ to him. He has such a way of convincing Choso to give him anything he wants, really. It’s already hard enough for Choso to not give into any of his brother’s every whims, and the addition of Yuuji to the household has not helped.

Yuuji has been skipping his tutoring sessions. Repeatedly.

Sometimes he won’t even show himself in the first place. He’s off, running around doing god only knows what. While Choso understands that learning doesn’t come easy to young Yuuji, he isn’t even trying to use any of his potential.

Choso has had both maids and butlers out looking for him all day, and no one has reported back with any sightings. Until now. Choso grits his teeth, heels clacking off the styled marble while he marches to the family dining room. The least he could do before running rampant was have the decency to let Choso know he’s safe. 

Choso throws open the double doors, the wood hitting the walls with a loud ‘bang!’ that makes the three brothers present freeze. 

Eso and Kechizu, his remaining brothers at the estate, stare at him wide eyed. Choso isn’t focused on them. He’s zoned in on Yuuji, who, by the state of his face, absolutely knows that he’s in deep trouble.

“Chos-” 

“Where were you?” Choso grits out.

Yuuji looks down, embarrassed. He stays quiet, and Choso reiterates.

“Yuuji. I asked you a question.”

Eso speaks up, defending Yuuji.

“Brother, give him some leniency. He’s young. He’s allowed to act like it.” Eso points out, pleading for his brother’s case.

“Young he may be, but he has responsibilities that he must take care of. I have only asked one thing of him. To show up.” Choso argues, unwilling to give up this time.

All eyes are on the youngest now. Bashfully, Yuuji twiddles his thumbs. Choso waits in the doorway, arms crossed. 

“...Sorry, Choso. It won’t happen again.” He mutters.

With a deep sigh, Choso relents. He sits in his chair at the head of the table, rubbing his temples. He can feel the migraine forming already.

The kitchen staff bring out the day’s spread of supper, a mouth watering collection of different meats and roasted vegetables. While his younger brothers dig into the meal, Choso pokes at his food, his mind elsewhere.

“Yuuji, what is the book you have there?” Eso asks, pointing beside his plate.

His eyes light up, excited. 

“A fantasy book! The lady next door gave it to me, she’s super nice.” Yuuji exclaims before taking a large sip of wine.

“A fantasy book.” Choso deadpans.

“Yep! It’s super interesting. Lots of dragons and awesome fights.” 

Choso feels his irritation building, but pushes it down.

“Is that where you have been? Speaking with the Viscountess next door?” Choso asks, trying to not lose his cool.

“Not the Viscountess, the daughter! She’s really cool, she does a lot of painting and reading. She lent me the book.” Yuuji replies.

Choso has only met the family next door in passing. He’s not one to interact with many in public, despite how closely the two families live together. The Viscount has been involved in various business ventures, but he knows next to nothing about his daughter. 

It makes him wary. Who is this girl, influencing his brother and filling his mind with nonsense? Taking him away from his studies, his responsibilities?

He won’t let this pass.

“While I am pleased you are making… friends, Yuuji, I would much rather you read textbooks than some fictional story.” Choso points out.

“Yes, Choso.” He murmurs.

Eso, trying to disperse the awkward tension in the air, continues to chat with Yuuji about his various escapades. It continues until the end, where Choso leaves first, bidding his siblings good night.

That evening, Choso can’t sleep. He often finds sleep does not come easy, but it especially escapes him tonight. He stares out the window, watching the trees blow in the wind, wondering how he can fix this. How he can convince Yuuji to be set on the right path.

He decides to get an outside opinion.

—

Nanami Kento is a reasonable man.

The Nanami family has only recently entered into the Ton. They worked their way up from lower class through international trading dealings and business. They are the first family in a very long time to do so, the Queen granting them Baronship.

Choso respects Nanami. He’s a hardworking man with good family values. He also is aware of both ends of life in the Ton, both high class and impoverished. It’s why Choso decides to meet with him for advice on the matter of his youngest brother.

“I am at a loss for how to approach this. He’s wild, untameable. He doesn’t listen. No, refuses to.” Choso says, staring at his cup of tea.

Nanami sits across from him, stirring sugar into his earl grey tea. 

“He likely just needs time. This life is vastly different from the one he was brought up in.” Nanami points out.

“I have provided him time. I have given him every resource I possibly can muster. What if he never adjusts?”

The thought fills Choso with dread. The idea that no matter what he does, no matter how hard he tries, he will fail his brother. That Yuuji will be led astray, leading an improper life. He would not be able to forgive himself.

Choso’s jaw clenches. He takes a sip of tea in an attempt to calm himself.

Nanami hums, thinking of his next words carefully. 

“It’s possible. You cannot control him, My Lord. From what you’ve relayed to me, it seems like he’s just living as any young boy outside the Ton does. You must realize that while this situation is new to you, it is much more of a monumental change for him.” 

Choso sighs. He calls the maid over to refill the teapot.

“I cannot understand him. We are too different. I was raised in the Ton my entire life. I do not know how to make him more comfortable, nor give him that sense of belonging.” Choso admits.

“Perhaps you should tutor him personally.” Nanami suggests.

“Me?” Choso parrots, surprised.

“Indeed. If he will not attend tutoring with another, it is feasible he may partake if you are the one doing the teaching.”

Choso mulls on his words. He has been extremely busy these days with the workload, constantly having his head in papers into the late hours of the night and early sunrise in the morning. Would he even have time for such a thing?

As if Nanami knows what he’s thinking, he says the words that put the final nail in the coffin for Choso.

“I understand you are a busy man. The boy might appreciate you taking time for him. It could bring you closer.”

And Choso wants nothing more than that.

He stands up, offering his hand out for Nanami.

“I appreciate you taking the time to come and provide advice. I will take this into consideration.” Choso says, a new determination filling him.

Nanami shakes his hand firmly.

“It is my pleasure. Do keep me updated. I would like to know how it goes.” He replies.

Indeed, Choso would like to know as well.

—

It doesn’t go well.

Well, that’s a bit of an over exaggeration. At first, it was pleasant. Yuuji was attending tutoring, finally, with the promise of spending more time with his older brother. He seemed to be catching on well, with Choso taking different approaches in his teaching, finding one that finally seemed to make sense to Yuuji. The boy just needed a more hands on approach is all.

Choso would be lying if he said he wasn’t also enjoying it. It was a fantastic destressor from his everyday duties, and he found Yuuji’s company quite enjoyable. He believed they were finally understanding each other. 

At least, they were at one point.

Yuuji is skipping again.

Choso takes another glance at his watch, realizing that Yuuji is now late by almost an hour. He stands up out of his chair, leaving the library swiftly.

He checks every room he can possibly think of. Each of his brother’s bedrooms, the common room, every study. Hell, he even checks the kitchen and maid’s quarters, knowing that Yuuji has a penchant for bothering the wait staff.

After scanning the house, he finds that his younger brother is nowhere to be seen. He steps into the gardens, taking in the fresh air and sun. Choso closes his eyes, basking in the rays on his pale skin. Patience, he’s finding, is his greatest virtue to be learned from Yuuji.

Choso hears distant laughter.

One voice is coming from a woman he does not recognize. The other is definitely his younger brother. Stupidly, he did not check the one place that Yuuji has said he visited repeatedly. One place he has often used to escape the clutch of his studies.

Next door.

He walks across the gardens in the direction of the voices, shoving his way through hedges and bushes. When he enters the property of his neighbours, he sees them.

Sees you.

“What on Earth is going on here?”

—

Being raised as a woman in the Ton is not easy. Perfection is expected, and your parents provided you the resources to behave as such.

As the daughter of a Viscount, this expectation was amplified tenfold. 

Your great grandfather was the first Viscount of your line, leaving your father as the third. As the only child, a daughter nonetheless, the name will not be passed down to any sons. Many nights, you find yourself wishing you could take on the title yourself, at least to stop the disappointed glares you’ve received your whole life from your father.

You walk down the halls of your childhood estate, nervously toying with the silks of your gown. Your parents summoned you urgently, which is never a good sign. 

You slide on your gloves to hide the paint staining your fingers. Despite your inclination for the arts, and your parent’s urgency in your partaking in womanly hobbies, they would throw a fit to see you so unkempt.

You hear your parents before you see them. Your mother, pamphlet in hand, is discussing the latest gossip in the newest Lady Whistledown paper released that very morning. Your father is entirely uninterested.

“Can you believe it? A bastard, from the esteemed Kamo family. I truly cannot believe they allowed that stain into their household. What must be running through the new Duke’s mind?” Your mother rants, appalled.

“Hm.” Your father replies.

“What a nightmare. I would never allow such a scandal to occur. Maybe the gossip will finally run that hermit and his hooligan brothers out of town.” She scoffs.

Your mother turns to you, waving the pamphlet in the air.

“Dearest, did you hear the latest news?” She asks.

You quietly roll your eyes, taking a seat on the expensive blue furniture.

“I now have.” You reply.

“The Kamo family, finally showing their true colours! Don’t you agree, dear?” She asks your father.

“Indeed.” He flips the page in his book.

Unwilling of any more of your mother’s negativity, you pipe up.

“I think it rather kind of the new Duke to shelter his newest sibling. It is a great testament to his character.” You chirp.

Both your parents gaze at you now, disapprovingly.

“That boy is not a Kamo. They should have left him to rot. Inviting him into the family is a mere testament to his foolishness, nothing more.” Your mother says sternly.

You sigh, resting your head on your hand.

“Why did you call for me, Mother?” You ask, unwilling to argue.

She places the pamphlet on a nearby table, mood suddenly shifting to a more positive note. She stands, sitting beside you. Your mother takes your hands in her own, looking at you earnestly.

“My dear, it is time.” She says.

Her cryptic words leave you feeling both uneasy and confused. 

“...Time for what, Mother?” 

Your father places his book on his lap.

“It is time to open yourself to the Ton. This season, you will be presenting yourself to the Queen as a show for your availability to marry.” He replies, voice devoid of emotion.

Your heart drops.

Marriage?

“B-but, Father, is it not too early? I am still young as of yet, surely we can wait a while long-”

“It is not up for discussion.” He commands strongly.

Your mother takes your chin softly, smiling down at you.

“Dearest, this is something to celebrate! You should be grateful. Marriage is the greatest honour bestowed upon a woman. We have been preparing you since you were a wee child.” She grins.

You push her hand away, standing out of your chair. Your chest heaves with how heavy you breathe, feeling the walls closing in on you. The thought of being married off to any man who pleases to have you makes you feel like one of the cattle grazing in the countryside, mindless and easily manipulatable.

The greatest honour? What a joke. To think that the only honourable purpose you have in this world is to belong to a man. It makes your stomach clench, nausea rising. 

Of course you knew it was coming. If your parents had their way, you would have already been out last season. Successfully, until this point, you’ve managed to put off any betrothals your parents attempted to lure you in with. 

Your luck has run out.

“I don’t want this! Do neither of you care to listen for what I desire?” You shout, appalled.

“You dare speak to us that way? Lower your tone!” Your father shouts.

His voice booms throughout the room, your maid jumping at the sudden increase in volume.

“Don’t be so selfish.” Your mother scoffs, “This is what you were meant to do. What you were always meant to do. I have done it, as has every woman in our lineage. Fix yourself. You are unseemly to gaze upon.” 

A shuddered exhale leaves your body, and your fists clench at your sides. It’s not fair. It never has been.

You hate them. Hate yourself even more for being so compliant. Some things never change, no matter how grown you become.

“... As you wish.”

You storm out of the common room, maid chasing after you frantically.

You fight the tears beginning to make their appearance.

—

The weather, much to your pleasure, had been warming. The grass once covered in frost is now soft under your fingertips. You thread your fingers through the blades, attempting to ground yourself and stop your mind from racing.

Your parent’s words have been on your mind for days. The fear, the dread, the anxiety. It’s overwhelming, and you’ve often found yourself outside to escape the stifling air indoors. A book sits on your lap, untouched. You can only read a few lines before your mind starts to wander.

Thankfully, your maid has allowed you a moment of peace to be by yourself. 

You attempt to begin reading again.

It works briefly. You engross yourself in the words, flesh out the storyline in your mind. It’s rather entertaining.

An object flies over the hedges bordering your estate, landing with a loud ‘thump’.

You stare at it.

A… ball?

The bushes shake, heavy rustling making their way through. A boy, who can’t be older than eight and ten, forces his way through the greenery, branches sticking out of his pink hair. His eyes lock in on the ball, a hearty grin stretching across his face.

Only when he obtains the leather ball, tossing it between his hands, does he notice you sitting on your bench.

Silence.

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to intrude! I was just…” He stammers, gesturing to the ball in his hands.

You stifle a snort, closing the book in your hands.

“Do not fret, all is well. I understand completely.” You reassure, lips upturned.

He sags with relief.

Before you can speak again, he struts over, plopping himself down on the bench beside you. His complete lack of nervousness in the presence of a complete stranger both confuses and intrigues you. 

You scrunch your nose at the smell of sweat from the young boy. He must have been playing for a while.

“My name is Yuuji! I just moved in next door. What’s your name?” He asks cheerfully.

You tell him your name, and only then do you realize who exactly is sitting beside you. 

This must be the illegitimate son your mother was speaking of mere days ago. He isn’t quite what you expected. You had assumed he would be more… Kamo like. Reserved, quiet, socially uncomfortable. He’s the exact opposite you’ve heard from any rumours of the mysterious family.

Yuuji is quite literally sunshine encapsulated.

“You’re my neighbour, right? That’s awesome! I haven’t met anyone here yet. People are kind of mean.” He pouts.

“Indeed. The members of the Ton are not always welcoming to new individuals.” You chuckle.

“That’s an understatement. You seem nice, though! It’s not like I had many friends back home anyways. There weren’t many kids around. Only maids. Not that they weren’t fun to be around! What are you reading?” He rambles.

It’s a breath of fresh air to speak with him. Someone so untouched by the prim and proper expectations of nobility, free from lifelong scrutiny. You’ve long since abandoned laxness, trained to carefully say what words in what specific scenario.

“It is a fiction novel. A fantasy, to be more specific.” You tell him, showing him some of the fake maps illustrated at the beginning.

“A fantasy?” He inquires, looking over your shoulder.

You scoot slightly away from him to increase your distance, knowing what your parents (or anyone, for that matter) would say if they saw the boy so close to an unmarried young lady. Yuuji, obliviously, slides over to follow you.

You smile at him.

“A book about adventure. Knights, princesses, dragons. I rather enjoy a good fiction story. It is… a good distraction from my own life.” You murmur, running your hands along the spine.

“I can understand. Choso doesn’t want me reading fiction. He says I should be focusing on academics. So boring.” Yuuji whines.

“Choso?” You ask.

“My brother!” He chirps.

You don’t know a thing about the new duke besides his title. The previous duke was rather reserved, and his son was even worse. You’ve seen him in passing. Always in a refined black suit with a rich purple cravat. His appearance was much talked about in gossip. A bizarre hairstyle, his eyes bleak and tired with heavy dark circles. The alleged dark scar across his face.

It makes you sad to think the boy is so restricted from his creativity. Surely his brother could stand to be a little more lenient with him, no?

You reach out, offering the book to Yuuji.

“Take it. Read it, tell me what you think of the contents. I am curious to know.” You say.

Immediately, he perks up, glee evident.

“Really?!” He exclaims loudly, surprising you.

He takes the book, about to flip through the pages when his name is called in the distance.

He gawks, rising from his seat and running in the direction in which he came. He yells over his shoulder, waving wildly.

“Thanks! See you soon!” He grins, shoving his way through the hedges once again.

You smile, waving back.

Something tells you that this definitely will not be the last you hear from young Yuuji.

—

And it wasn’t.

Yuuji had continuously come to visit every day since. Some days he would chat your ear off about anything and everything that crossed his mind. Others, he would lay beside you in the grass while you read him the book you lent him.

You have yet to tell anyone of your encounters with the youngest Kamo, least of all your parents. You know it would be a scandal, and anyone in society would agree that it is unseemly. 

Despite this, you’ve realized from your encounters with Yuuji that you’ve been achingly, desperately lonely. You have no siblings. Your parents rarely converse with you under the pretense that they have more important matters to tend to. Any acquaintances you have had left during the off season for the countryside.

Yuuji is like the little brother you never had. You enjoy caring for him, simply lending him company at the simplest of times. In addition, Yuuji has proved to be a great distraction from your impending inevitable betrothal.

From time to time, Yuuji will convince you to play various games with him. On this particular occasion, it’s an intense game of Pall Mall. 

Yuuji lines up his mallet, focusing in. Cicadas ring in the distance, the heat making you sweat. You watch him in anticipation while he winds up for the hit, landing the swing with a loud ‘thwap’! The ball goes flying through the second hoop with ease.

You cheer, clapping profusely. He jumps up as well, laughing loudly.

“Yuuji! I was not aware you were so proficient in sports. You should have warned me before I agreed to such a losing game.” You tease, poking him with your mallet.

He blushes, rubbing the back of his head in embarrassment.

“I’ve played sports my whole life. It was all I could do, really.” He says wistfully.

You place a hand on his shoulder.

“It is a great talent indeed. You should feel proud.” You tell him softly.

He smiles sadly. At his sudden silence, which is so unlike him, you prod further.

“Yuuji? Are you quite alright?” You ask.

He purses his lips, thinking about his next words carefully.

“I… yes. I am just missing my old home.” He mutters, rolling his mallet in his hands.

“Oh Yuuji…” You say, glancing at him woefully, “Perhaps you should visit. I’m sure you can spare one afternoon away from your studies.”

“Maybe. I don’t want Choso to think I am… ungrateful. I’m not! I actually am very thankful to him for everything he’s done for me. I just…” He sighs loudly, “I can tell I am not what he anticipated I would be. That I am not living up to his expectations.”

He walks over to his ball. You watch him, letting him express his frustrations.

“In truth, I never wanted this. I was happy, truly, despite not having anything to my name. I didn’t ask to be thrust into nobility. It’s hard to have so much resting on my shoulders. I am the opposite of all my brothers, especially Choso. I just wish… that I belonged.” He trails off, face forlorn.

You think of what to say. You raise your mallet, hitting your ball. It lands just short of the hoop. Walking closer to Yuuji, you tell him your honest thoughts.

“It’s possible you are different from your brothers. I cannot truly say, for I do not know them as you do. What I do know, however, is that belonging is not a matter of difference. Possessing differences is what constructs us as human. Belonging is the individuals you surround yourself with. I am certain that your brothers would say you belong with them, as would I.” 

You place a hand on his shoulder, smiling.

“You are one of a kind, Yuuji. Do not change yourself to fit into society. You will find your community, and there are people here who already adore you just the way you are.”

His lower lip trembles.

Lean arms wrap around you, entrapping you in a close hug. You hold him closer, shushing him gently.

“Thank you, Big Sister.” He whispers.

Against your wishes, a wide smile crosses your face.

“Big Sister?” You tease, his arms still wrapped around you.

While you may tease him, your heart squeezes at his vulnerability. Perhaps you were meant to have a sibling after all.

“Shush.” He says, voice muffled by your dress.

You laugh, pulling away and patting him on the cheek.

“Come, Yuuji. Let us finish the game. You must hurry and win to spare me the humiliation for much longer.”

To your greatest pleasure, he beams.

—

Yuuji disappears for a few days after that. While you miss his presence, you understand that he has much studying to do, and is conversing with his brothers. You hope that, after your conversation the previous week, he is focusing more energy on spending time with them, not withheld by the fear of not fitting in.

You yourself have been quite busy, regardless. Your mother has taken to preparing you for the upcoming season, much to your dismay. Many public appearances, many trips to the modiste for fittings and tailoring gowns.

This is excluding the near constant meetings with tutors and distant betrothed female cousins alike. Your parents are making it abundantly clear that you will be married off this season, regardless of your feelings on the matter.

“Mother! I am going to relax in the gardens!” You yell out, grabbing your kit of paint and a small canvas.

You don’t wait up for her distant reply, and your heels make a soft tapping noise while you run outside. 

Your brushes softly scrape against the canvas. The azure ink seeps in, leaving behind a picturesque landscape. There is no plan when you start painting, really. It’s rather cathartic to let your hands guide you. To feel the sun on your skin, the serenity of silence, and just be.

In your art, there is no pressure. No desire for perfection. None of the constant lingering eye society casts upon you. 

It’s perfection in a small, colourful palette of pigment.

“What are you up to, Big Sis?”

“Yuuji!” You exclaim, mood suddenly much lighter.

He smiles cheekily, his attempts to sneak up on you a failure. He’s dressed down rather casually, simply donning a loose linen top and red slacks. He looks calmer. More at peace.

When he sits beside you, you pat him on the head.

“It has been too long. How have you been?” You ask him, placing your brush on the easel.

“Good! Choso has been tutoring me. I’ve been taking in what you said as well, just focusing on becoming closer to my brothers.” He smiles, fiddling with your cup of brushes.

“I’m glad to hear it.” You tell him earnestly, “Come, paint with me. I happened to acquire another canvas just in case.”

You find that, much like yourself, Yuuji is a very messy artist. A very talented one, but one that leaves the task covered in various streaks of pigment. You chuckle while the two of you catch up, seeing his focus and the smear of green across his face.

“How is it tutoring under your brother? Is he behaving patiently enough with you?” You ask.

Yuuji sighs.

“Yes, he has. It’s much better than being educated by a random stranger. It still doesn’t make me any more interested in what I’m learning, though. Especially mathematics.” He pouts.

You laugh, dipping your brush in water. The white paint ripples through the jar like smoke.

“I’ve never been much of a fan of mathematics myself. Too much thinking required for such menial tasks.” You muse.

“Tell me about it.” He groans, dipping his small brush in the yellow pot of paint.

When he wipes the sweat off of his forehead with the back of his hand, another streak of paint is left in its place. You stifle a laugh.

“Yuuji, are you painting the canvas or yourself?”

“Huh?” He asks, confused.

You pull a small mirror from your kit, showing him his reflection. His cheeks burn red, and you cannot hold in the giggles any longer.

“Shut up! You don’t look much better!” He grins, pointing at you accusingly.

It’s true. You are wearing the gown you generally sacrifice for such activities, stained with various colours. You flick your brush at him at his cheekiness, the spatter painting his ivory skin orange. He gawks, flicking back in retaliation.

You gape at him in fake outrage, moving to give him another flick of paint.

It becomes a full blown paint fight, the pigments meant to be placed onto the canvas now scattered on clothes, the stone underneath you, and the table. Screams are exchanged, faux arguments laced with fits of uncontrollable laughter.

Briefly, in the back of your mind, you imagine the picture the two of you create. You’re lucky no one will see you like this.

“What on Earth is going on here?”

════════════════════

a/n: reposting this and continuing it from ao3!! i had writers block for this fic for months but im revved and ready lol

[freakaz0ido]

sukuna x reader drabble, mdni (18+)! [wc: 2k]

════════════════════

Sukuna, in his own way, loved his wife.

He’s not capable of love. Sukuna is far beyond that line between human and monster, lusting only for bloodshed, not foolish women. He was a drifter, never in his home, travelling only with Uraume by his side and ravaging as many villages as he so pleased. He enjoyed that life. It was the only thing that truly brought him joy.

When he had met you, you had immediately captured his attention.

In his era, he had yet to meet a sorcerer capable enough to stand up to him. With his four arms and multiple mouths, he whispered incantations before his enemies could move an inch. He remembered the day vividly simply because he felt like shit. Wracked with boredom, he did what he does best. Pillaging, of course.

You stood at the foot of the entrance to your village, staring down upon the wreckage with agony. God, he loves that expression. It sends pleasurable tingles down the expanse of his spine, makes his hair on his arms stand on edge.

When you saw him, you didn’t hesitate. Sukuna will be the first to admit he was not expecting a woman to be a sorcerer. You had surprised him. Caught him off guard with the wrath in your eyes, the swift movement of your fingers while manipulating jujutsu.

The two of you had battled for hours, a constant back and forth, destroying the land around you in a fifty kilometer radius in the process. It was… exhilarating. Sukuna hadn’t felt satisfied like that since he was a child beating a soldier in a fight for the first time.

And to top it all off, you could keep up with him. When he thought he had finally defeated you, you smiled, ready to keep going.

He knew, then, that he had to have you by his side.

It took patience. Sukuna didn’t have a lot of it, but he used what little he had to project onto his plan. He wreaked havoc on everything he saw simply for the chance to see you, for you to show up and try to stop him. It worked a few times. More often than not he ended up leaving emptier than he entered.

You started to show up more frequently. He figured you were doing the same. Too caught up in the taboo to truly accept him as your king. But he knew you wanted him too. Could tell in the way you moved around him, like some twisted dance. You looked at him differently than that first time. Longingly.

He switched tactics completely and decided to make a deal with the old bastards of the Heian jujutsu society.

You, in exchange for temporary peace.

They took the deal like hungry rats.

You argued with him for the first few weeks. Constantly bickering back and forth, throwing shit at him, trying to pick fights. He ignored it for the most part. Sometimes when he had nothing else to do he would egg you on, intentionally pissing you off for his own entertainment. He liked the twitch in your brow, how quickly you would quip back.

Eventually you calmed.

He learned more about you, then. Watched you paint the landscapes that surrounded his manor, tend to the garden that was now flourishing under your care. His servants took to you quickly. Uraume even faster.

However, instead of anger, you now treated him with indifference. That, in Sukuna’s mind, simply wouldn’t do.

And he did everything.

After his hunt, he brought his finest kill out to the shed in the back. Knife in hand, he skinned it, curing and cutting the leather and tending to the fur. It would take days, but he felt pride when he saw you sleeping in the soft and plush furs that he made with his own four hands. He would deny it when Uraume would confront him about it.

It wasn’t enough.

He brought you clothing made of the finest silks and jewellry that sparkled under the sun. Glimmering junihitoes in all different colours, necklaces, earrings, and rings. All from villages he had previously ravaged, of course, but thoughtful nonetheless. You didn’t accept them, throwing them to the back of your closet and choosing to instead wear your village’s local attire.

He gave you every food you could possibly want. Dishes from all over Japan laid out at your table every night. Most nights you ate, which gave him a feeling he didn’t quite know how to place. If he tested his luck that day with your temper, he was left stranded alone in the massive dining hall.

Sukuna brought you to gorgeous sights around the country. Being from a small town, your experience was mostly limited to your village. He revelled in the marveled look in your eye when you laid eyes on mountains, forests, and cities beyond your wildest dreams.

He liked that in those moments, you spoke to him as well. Forgetting all about your supposed hatred for him and opting to share your every thought. Sure, he didn’t really reply. He was too proud. But it stroked something in him that he didn’t know was there, and still refused to admit.

Your paints had never run dry. Your garden was never left without tools. Your favourite spot to read was never exposed to the sun. The path that you walked every morning and drank tea upon was always tended to.

He wondered when these spots in his life became yours.

You began to talk at him. Telling him about your feelings, your childhood, your wants. He would sit quietly and listen. Usually it happened during his daily tasks, so he never said anything in return. You began to greet him every single time you saw him, forcing him to walk with you on your morning walks.

He had never thought the words “Goodnight, Sukuna” could make him feel the way they did. Your voice was like windchimes hit by a gentle breeze. Refreshing. Relaxing. He could feel his tense muscles loosen the second he saw your figure in the distance.

He invited (forced) you to train with him. It wasn’t really training. Sukuna didn’t need to train. He was already the strongest. Sometimes he just fucked around for fun, and this time he brought you along. You bickered and fought the whole way, and really fought once you hit his training grounds. It was an empty field, surrounding greenery scorched and cleared by his flames.

When he had finally managed to pin you down, time stopped. Your heavy panting, his chest heaving. The sweat trickling down your skin warm under his palms. Your airy pants slipping down your hip ever so slightly.

The expression on your face was burned into his mind for days.

You had stopped wearing anything other than red. Began to doodle him while you watched him do tasks around the estate. He knows only because he found the papers in your room while he definitely wasn’t snooping. Every single day you sat closer and closer to him during meals in the dining hall. He had become used to your presence beside him, much like Uraume’s.

Looking back, you were his long before he ever asked you to be.

The ground was covered in snow when he finally did. There was no wind, no disturbances as he watched the snow fall that day. It had been a shit day. An anniversary. He was perched on a rock under the canopy in your garden. He heard you before he saw you.

“Ryomen?” You had murmured, a hand on his shoulder.

Not too long ago, he would’ve slaughtered anyone who dared call him by that name. With you, he craved it. Unwillingly leaned into your touch against his better judgement. That was the first day he had opened up to you. About his childhood as a monster, his mother, his shithead father. It was the anniversary of her death.

You had listened patiently. Looked at him softly. He hated it. Loathed how you made him feel, what you turned him into. He was a beast. A monster. With you, for the first time in his life, he didn’t feel like a demon. He felt like a man. And it was frightening.

What was even more terrifying was how much he craved it. He looked at you then, really looked, and came to an awful realization. He didn’t want anyone else to see you in your most vulnerable. He wanted to be the only one to see you happy, to see you devastated, and everything in between.

Sukuna wanted you. Not your status by his side, or your power. Just you.

He had told himself he wouldn’t ask. He knew for a while that you had been inching closer and closer to him. Knew what you really wanted. The stubborn part of him wanted you to confess. Numerous nights, he laid in bed sleepless, committing to the fact that you would be begging for him. And he wouldn’t give you what you wanted unless you asked on your knees with a pretty face.

But this was almost more humiliating than he could have imagined. His enemies would point and laugh at his weakness if they could see him.

Sukuna took your hand, more gently than he’s ever held anything in his life. Fighting back the urge to cower, to run, he asked you to be his and only his.

And you had accepted.

You had asked to be married rather than just a couple. It didn’t matter to him regardless, so he agreed. Marriage was futile and inconsequential to him, but apparently he had to take your feelings into account as well now.

You had married under budding sakura trees. There was no documentation, no witnesses. Neither of you had families to preach your social status and unity. Just the two of you, as it always was and would be. While he approached the whole ordeal with a stubborn frown, Sukuna would never forget the smile on your face.

He would also never forget the day he laid you down for the first time in his chambers. The taste of your bare skin, how you clawed at his back. The sound of you begging for something, anything, while he rested his forehead atop your own. Candles had illuminated your sweat-soaked skin, you were glowing in his eyes.

He was by no means an easy husband.

Sukuna was crass, sometimes downright cruel. He intentionally tried to piss you off because he thought it was the funniest thing in the world. He liked to poke and prod, and wouldn’t stop unless you gave him a very unfriendly smack.

He still ran rampant against your best wishes, ravaging villages and toppling cities, killing innocent people. When people came to his estate to beg for mercy, you sat by his side as he laughed. He would never change, hadn’t in the past and wouldn’t now with the addition of you in his life. But you accepted that, accepted him.

Despite his flaws, Sukuna had also learned how to hold, how to cherish. He was a man of actions, not of words. You had never been left to want for anything. If you even thought of it, it was yours. No gentle whispers of his name needed, although it did help sway him a little when it was something hard to obtain. He sat beside you as you engaged in hobbies. Listened when you spoke (sometimes). Indulged in your impulsivity for travel and tasks.

Sukuna had bigger dreams. He wanted more, more life, to conquer more land, to kill more people. He knew, though, that of all of his desires, you were his greatest.

Until the very end of your short time with him, Sukuna had never said “I love you.”

He was angry. He had no one to blame. You had died of natural causes a mere few years after your marriage. Uraume was beside him the entire time, but he refused to take any type of support. It was just who he was.

As he sits in front of your grave, ready to start his mission of becoming a cursed object, he hopes that he sees you in every lifetime going forward. He doesn’t doubt that he would recognize your soul no matter the face it belonged to.

And that was Sukuna’s love.

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a/n: guys my first fluff i cant believe it pls be nice 2 me