#i know it would be much more helpful to write it myself but ive never used them

[mononijikayu]

triassic love song — gojo satoru.

“They were together until the very end.” you said softly, your voice carried by the gentle wind. “I hope they’re still together, wherever they are.” The tall man took a deep breath, turning his head to look at you. For a moment, his blue gaze seemed distant, as though he were seeing something—or someone—far beyond the present. But then his lips curled into a small, sad smile.  “They will be, you know?” he replied quietly, his voice deep and filled with a quiet conviction. “Some loves are strong enough to last forever. They…they transcend, even time.”

GENRE: alternate universe - reincarnation au!;

WARNING/S: edo japan era, nsfw, angst, fluff, romance, hurt/comfort, engagement, hurt, physical touch, implied character death(s), natural disaster(s), mourning, pain, grief, happy ending, depiction of natural disaster(s), depiction of suffering, depiction of character death(s), depiction of violent destruction, depiction of grief, depiction of suffering, mention of implied character death(s), mention of death(s), mention of suffering, mention of destruction, mention of earthquake-related destruction, fiance! gojo, fiance! reader, reincarnated! gojo, reincarnated! reader;

WORD COUNT: 8.6k words

NOTE: this song has ruined me beyond understanding. paris paloma, your album was just insane like im sorry. the fact that she wrote a song about the triassic cuddle inspired me to write something similar and i just??? i can't help myself. ive been so crazy about this song that i just decided, you know what. this is great. this is just something i would in fact like to bawl my eyes out writing. and i did. i did that. and i hope you cry with me and enjoy it. anyway, i love you all so much <3

masterlist

if you want to, tip! <3

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IT WAS ENJOYABLE TO BE TOGETHER. IIt was forbidden to be together at this time, with the curfew in place, but you couldn’t help yourself. Not when it came to him. The world outside was still, bound by rules meant to keep order, but within the quiet sanctuary of your family estate, the constraints of the outside world seemed distant and unimportant. Inside, warmth and anticipation filled the air, thick as the lingering scent of incense that wafted through the halls. The soft glow of lanterns bathed the room in a warm light, casting shadows across the delicate shoji screens, and reflecting off the polished wooden beams and traditional tatami mats beneath you.

Gojo Satoru sat beside you, his presence magnetic as always, but tonight, something was different. His signature smirk still played at the corners of his lips, and his bright, sparkling eyes glimmered with mischief. But beneath that playfulness was an undeniable depth, a new layer of emotion that wasn’t there before—an unspoken excitement, a shared understanding that you were no longer just childhood friends.

You were now betrothed.

Bound by the ties of engagement that your noble families had arranged, it felt as though a long-awaited dream had finally come true. And though you had known each other all your lives, this new bond between you carried a weight of its own, something that made your heart race in a way you hadn’t expected. The happiness you felt was undeniable, shared in the way Satoru’s hand occasionally brushed against yours, in the subtle glances that said everything words couldn’t.

“You’re quieter than usual, don't you think?" Satoru remarked with a teasing lilt, his voice soft but carrying an undercurrent of something more serious. He leaned in slightly, his gaze locking onto yours, as if daring you to speak first.

You smiled, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks under his intense scrutiny. “I could say the same about you, hm?” you replied, trying to match his teasing tone, though your voice betrayed the flurry of emotions swirling within you.

Satoru chuckled softly, leaning back on his hands, eyes never leaving yours. “Well, it’s not every day you get engaged to your best friend!” he said, his tone light, but his expression softened as his usual bravado gave way to sincerity.

That sincerity took your breath away, and for a moment, the reality of the moment hit you fully. You weren’t just sneaking out to spend time with him as you had countless times before. This was different. This was a promise, one sealed by the love you’d always shared but never fully acknowledged until now.

“I’ve been waiting for this, you know?” you admitted quietly, your eyes meeting his. “For us to be more than just... childhood friends.”

Satoru’s playful demeanor softened even more, a rare seriousness taking over his expression as he reached out to take your hand in his. His fingers were warm, and the simple gesture sent a shiver down your spine.

“Me too.” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “For a long time.”

For a few moments, neither of you spoke. The world outside was still and silent, but inside this room, the air seemed alive with the energy between you. The gravity of the situation settled in—this wasn’t just a fleeting moment. It was the beginning of something much bigger, something that both excited and terrified you.

“You always did like breaking the rules.” you teased lightly, trying to ease the tension, though your heart pounded in your chest. “Staying out past curfew, sneaking into my room like this...”

Satoru grinned, his usual confidence returning. “I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t, right?” he quipped, though the softness in his gaze lingered. “Besides, how could I stay away from you tonight? Our first night as an engaged couple... I had to be here.”

You laughed, but it was a soft, breathless sound, the kind that came when words failed to fully capture the emotions coursing through you. “I’m glad you’re here, Satoru.” you whispered.

He smiled, that warm, heart-melting smile that was reserved just for you, and for a moment, it felt like nothing else in the world mattered. Not the rules, not the expectations placed on you by your families, not even the looming responsibilities of your engagement. It was just you and him, sharing a quiet, intimate moment that you knew you would cherish forever.

“I brought something for you.” Satoru said after a brief pause, reaching into his sleeve and pulling out a small bundle of paper. “I wrote these for you.”

You blinked in surprise, watching as he carefully unfolded the papers. “Poems?”

He nodded, the tiniest hint of embarrassment coloring his cheeks, something you rarely saw from him. “Yeah, don’t laugh!” he added quickly, though the look in his eyes told you he trusted you completely. “I’ve been working on them for a while...”

You took the papers from him, your fingers brushing his as you did. The sheets were neatly folded, each one carefully written in his distinct handwriting. It touched you deeply to know that he had taken the time to craft these for you, that he had poured his heart into something so personal. Something for you, with all his love.

You looked up at him, your heart swelling with affection. “I could never laugh, my dearest.” you said softly, your voice sincere. “Thank you, Satoru.”

"I made these for you, my beloved." he whispered, pulling out one of the carefully folded parchment from your grasp and unfolded it. "Listen to me, alright?"

His slender fingers traced the delicate paper before he began to read softly, his voice like a gentle breeze:

"Beneath the cherry bloom, I wait  

for you, a light that never fades.  

In silence, your name takes root in my soul—  

a promise written long before time."

His tender words wove into your heart, each syllable filled with the love he had always held for you, now finally given shape. You leaned against him, feeling the warmth of his body seep into yours, comforted by the sound of his heartbeat that matched your own excitement. The future felt certain, and the night was perfect. You kept listening to his voice, letting it guide you into the tender slumber of the night.

Satoru leaned closer to you, watching your expression, his bright blue eyes filled with a mix of anticipation and affection. Your orbs gazed at the tender strokes of his writing.

His calligraphy had always been so beautiful, but to form such words in order to capture not just the feelings he had for you, it was even more beautiful. And to have him read it with such affection, such love — for you and only you…..what could be more beautiful? What could be more perfect, more delightful?

But then, the ground beneath you shifted, a low rumble reverberating through the tatami mats. At first, it was subtle, almost imperceptible, but within seconds, the shaking intensified. It was subtle at first, a low rumble that made the lanterns flicker.

Satoru paused, his brow furrowing. Before you could ask, the ground shook violently, and the delicate house groaned under the pressure. Screams erupted from other rooms, echoing through the halls as the tremor grew stronger.

"Satoru?" you whispered, your heart suddenly pounding in your chest, not from love, but from fear.

He was already moving, his hand gripping yours tightly. “Stay with me, my beloved.” he commanded, his voice steady, though his eyes flashed with a seriousness you had never seen before. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

The room shuddered violently as the earthquake hit full force, and you could hear the distant crashing of objects falling in other parts of the house. Screams erupted outside even louder—voices of your family, the servants, all caught in the chaos of the sudden disaster. And then all the sudden, it was eerily quiet. And that made your heart drop to your stomach 

For a moment, you thought that it would finally be over. But then, the earth beneath you trembled once more. You squealed as Satoru let his body encompass your own with the enveloping of his whole body on yours as the world crashed against you both. The walls were swaying left and right, the roof tiles were shattering one after another. It was chaos.

"Hold on to me. Don’t lift your eyes." he said, his voice calm but firm, even as the world quaked around you. “I’ll protect you.”

You clung to him, your heart pounding in fear as the floor shifted beneath your feet. His grip was unyielding, pulling you closer until there was no space between your bodies, shielding you from falling debris as the shaking intensified.

“I’ve got you, my beloved.” he murmured into your hair, his voice steady despite the chaos around you. “D–don’t worry.”

You feared when he stuttered, that he had gotten hurt. But he did not falter. His fingers gently stroked your back, trying to calm your trembling as the earthquake raged on. You could hear the distant crashing of porcelain and wood, your ears ringing from the harsh sounds of the destruction. But in his arms, you felt an odd sense of safety amidst the destruction. Because it was your Satoru holding you, protecting you. Because you’re together. 

As the tremors finally subsided, Satoru’s grip on you loosened slightly, but he didn’t let go. His breath was shaky, and when you looked up at him, you saw a rare flicker of fear in his usually carefree eyes. He swallowed hard before giving you a small, reassuring smile. You were still stunned, your head shaking as you tried to make sense of the world.

"Seems like the earth itself wanted to remind us of its power." he joked softly, though the tension in his voice betrayed him. He was just as afraid, perhaps even pained by some injury he would never show you. “We’re….we’re alright, my beloved. Don’t worry.”

You let out a breathless laugh, still clutching his robes as you pressed your forehead against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. The night was no longer perfect, but in that moment, with Satoru holding you close, it felt like nothing could tear the two of you apart—not even the earth itself.

The earth, which had momentarily stilled, seemed to shift again beneath you, this time more violently.More catastrophic, more angry and volatile. You screamed as you held tightly to him, his body wrapping itself against you once more. The walls of your room groaned, beams creaking as the tremors returned with a vengeance, fiercer than before. The floor shook so hard you could barely keep your balance, even in Satoru's arms.

He pulled you even tighter against him, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, “Stay with me. Don’t let go.”

You could feel his muscles tensing beneath his robes, his usually easy going demeanor replaced by something more protective, almost desperate as his entire body forced itself to become a shield against anything against you. What remained standing of your ancestral home rattled more easily around you, dust falling from the ceiling in thick clouds. Outside, the screams grew louder, more frantic as the destruction worsened. Perhaps, it wasn’t even your family any longer. Perhaps it was the town, perhaps it was a neighboring village. You do not know anymore. And that’s what frightened you even more.

You could hear the unmistakable crash of something heavy—perhaps a roof beam—collapsing nearby. Suddenly, a deafening crack split the air. The wide, elaborate shoji doors rattled on their frames before they were blown open by the force of the quake. Your own room felt like it was being torn apart piece by piece. One of the wooden beams above groaned under the strain and, without warning, splintered and fell, hurtling toward the two of you.

Your beloved Gojo Satoru reacted in an instant, pushing you down and covering you with his body just as the beam crashed into the floor where you’d been trying to stand. The air was thick with dust, and the scent of earth and shattered wood filled your lungs, choking you. You shook as your eyes slowly opened to see your fiance pinning you down with his body shielding you.

“Satoru!” you gasped, your hands gripping the front of his robe, desperate to make sure he was unharmed.

“I’m fine, my beloved.” he muttered, though you could hear the strain in his voice. His arm was still braced above you, shielding you from any further debris. His other hand cupped the back of your head, pressing you into the crook of his neck. “We need to move. The house isn’t going to hold.”

You nodded against him, heart pounding in terror. Everything felt surreal, like a nightmare you couldn’t wake from. The childhood home that had always felt so safe, so untouchable, was crumbling around you, and the only solid thing left was Satoru. He was all you had, you think. Everything…Everything was gone. Your body was shaking. 

He pulled you to your feet, guiding you toward the door, but just as you reached it, another powerful tremor sent the ground pitching beneath you. You fell forward, and Satoru caught you, his arms wrapping around your waist, holding you close as the floor buckled and cracked beneath your feet. You could feel the splintering wood beneath your sandals, the whole structure of the house breaking apart beneath the relentless force of the earthquake.

“Satoru, we need to get out—” you started, but your voice was drowned out by the sound of another beam collapsing behind you, followed by a sickening crash from outside the room.

“I know, I know.” he said, his voice tight with focus as he scanned the surroundings. "We’ll find a way out. I promise."

He led you toward the door again, but just as you stepped forward, the entire room seemed to tilt. The floor caved in with a horrific crack, and suddenly, you were falling. Satoru’s grip tightened as you both plummeted into darkness, the floorboards and debris collapsing into the space below.

“Are you hurt?” Satoru’s voice cut through the chaos, his hand cupping your face gently as he pulled you close, checking for injuries in the dim light. His fingers trembled slightly, betraying the fear he usually kept hidden so well.

“I’m okay,” you gasped, though your body felt battered and sore.

He exhaled in relief, his forehead pressing against yours for a moment, his breath shaky. “We need to get out of here. Stay close to me.”

Even now, with the world collapsing around you, his determination didn’t waver. He pulled you to your feet once more, and together, you began to make your way through the rubble. The house was a maze of fallen beams, shattered walls, and debris, the once-beautiful estate reduced to ruins in a matter of minutes.

The aftershocks still rumbled beneath your feet, making every step treacherous, but Satoru kept you steady, his arm around your waist, guiding you through the wreckage. The air was thick with dust, and the distant screams of those outside continued, filling you with dread for what might await you once you escaped.

As you neared what used to be the outer courtyard, the quake hit again, this time more violent than any before. The very ground seemed to split open beneath you, and with a loud, earth-shattering roar, the outer wall of the estate gave way. You barely had time to scream before the floor cracked beneath your feet, and you fell into darkness once more.

This time, Satoru’s grip on you tightened, and you felt his body pull you against him, sheltering you as the ground gave way entirely. You hit the ground hard, the pain radiating through your body, but before you could react, you felt the warmth of Satoru’s arms around you, shielding you from the worst of it.

“Don’t leave me.” he whispered, his voice trembling as he held you tighter than ever. “I won’t let anything take you from me—not this, not anything.”

In that moment, as the world continued to crumble around you, his words were the only thing that kept you grounded. No matter what happened next, as long as you were with him, there was still hope. You clung to him, your fingers digging into the fabric of his robes, as the tremors finally began to subside, leaving the two of you alone in the wreckage, but together.

You landed hard, the wind knocked out of you as your back hit the ground. The tatami beneath you was torn, and debris scattered everywhere, yet Satoru still held onto you, his arms wrapped tightly around your body, as though his grip alone could shield you from the crumbling world. The force of his embrace had absorbed much of the fall, but the impact still left you breathless. For a moment, everything was a blur—dust and darkness clouded your vision, and the deafening roar of collapsing beams filled the air.

Your body throbbed with pain, and panic surged in your chest, but even through the chaos, the warmth of Satoru’s body against yours anchored you. His presence, solid and unyielding, kept you grounded in the midst of the chaos.

"Satoru..." you gasped, your voice barely audible, but he heard you.

“I’m here,” he whispered fiercely, his voice steady despite the tremors still shaking the earth beneath you. His breath was ragged, but his grip on you didn’t falter. His white hair, now disheveled and covered in dust, clung to his forehead, but his eyes—those impossibly blue eyes—remained focused on you. “Are you hurt?”

You tried to shake your head, but your mind was still reeling, struggling to catch up with what had just happened. The earthquake raged on, though the initial violence of it had passed. The ground trembled beneath you like a sleeping beast disturbed from its rest.

Satoru shifted, pulling you up as carefully as he could. The house around you was nearly unrecognizable—wooden beams had collapsed, shoji screens were shredded, and parts of the roof had caved in. The once peaceful and warm room where you had shared your engagement was now in ruins, littered with broken objects and torn memories.

The sound of screams echoed from outside, faint but piercing. Servants. Family. It was hard to tell who, but the urgency in their voices cut through the haze of shock that clouded your mind. Your breath caught in your throat, panic gripping you once more.

“My family... my parents.” you muttered, scrambling to get up, but Satoru stopped you, his hand on your shoulder, firm yet gentle. “Satoru—”

"Wait," he said softly, though his voice carried the weight of authority. "We need to get out of here first. It’s not safe."

He tried to keep you calm, his steady hands guiding you through the debris, but you could see the tension in his posture. He was on high alert, his senses sharp as he glanced at every unstable beam, every shifting pile of rubble. He was scanning for danger, but more than that, he was trying to protect you from seeing the worst of it—the destruction, the death.

But as you stumbled through the wreckage of what had once been your home, you couldn’t avoid the horrors that surrounded you. Bodies. Littered through the halls, some crushed beneath fallen beams, others lying still in the open. Your breath hitched, and for a moment, the world spun around you.

"Satoru..." you whispered, your voice trembling as you pulled away from his protective hold. "Where are they? My parents... my siblings?"

He didn’t answer immediately, his eyes darting around, trying to keep you moving forward, away from the bodies, away from the worst of it. But you knew. The silence was louder than any scream. You could feel tears fall from your face and that broke his heart to see.

"Satoru!" you cried, your voice breaking as your legs buckled beneath you. "Where are they?"

He knelt beside you, his hands cupping your face as he gently forced you to look at him. His bright blue eyes were filled with an overwhelming sadness, but he tried to hide it, to be strong for you. He had to be strong. He had to. He can’t be weak, not right now.

“I don’t know,” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “But we have to go. We need to find shelter. I’ll take you to my family home. They’ll know what to do.”

You nodded, though the words didn’t fully sink in. Your body was moving on autopilot now, your mind numb to the world as Satoru pulled you back to your feet. With every step, the destruction around you became more apparent, more real. The walls were crumbling, the air thick with dust and smoke, and the scent of burning wood filled your nostrils.

Together, you navigated the ruins of your estate, stepping over debris and through the remains of lives that had been lost in the quake. GojoSatoru kept a firm grip on your hand, leading you with a determination that seemed almost impossible given the circumstances.

But even he couldn’t hide the way his shoulders tensed, the way his jaw clenched when another body appeared in your path, forcing him to shield you from the sight.

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IT WAS A CHALLENGE, TO GO AND LEAVE THE DESTRUCTION BEHIND. The sky deepened into a somber shade of dusk as you and Satoru finally reached the estate’s edge. The once proud gates, symbols of security and honor, now stood twisted and mangled, crumpled by the sheer force of nature’s wrath.

Beyond the gates, the town stretched out in a nightmare of ruin—buildings reduced to heaps of rubble, streets fractured and littered with debris, and the air thick with the lingering scent of smoke and dust. The cries of the wounded and the wails of those searching for lost loved ones echoed through the broken streets, a chorus of despair that filled the silence left in the wake of destruction.

“Keep your head high,” Satoru urged, his voice low but firm as he tightened his grip on your hand. “Don’t look. Just… don’t.”

But it was impossible not to look. How could you not see the devastation, shared by all? Every corner of the town had been touched by this catastrophe, and every person who remained alive carried the weight of loss. It was a destruction understood by all, but none more deeply than you at that moment.

The memory of your home—once filled with laughter, warmth, and the presence of family—now lay in ruins. Your parents, your siblings… their fates were unknown, swallowed by the chaos. You hadn’t seen them, and the hope of finding them alive was growing fainter with every passing moment. Satoru’s words rang hollow in your ears, even as you clung to his hand for strength.

He guided you through the crumbling streets with a fierce determination, always positioning himself between you and the worst of the wreckage. The buildings, once grand and vibrant, had become tombs of stone and wood, each step revealing more of the town’s shattered soul. Bodies lay strewn across the ground, some half-buried in rubble, others left untouched by the debris but claimed by the quake nonetheless. It was too much, too overwhelming.

Every time you stumbled, your legs trembling with fatigue and grief, Satoru was there, catching you before you could fall. His presence was like an anchor, keeping you steady amid the storm of devastation that swirled around you. His hand never left yours, his touch a silent promise that you weren’t alone in this. You didn’t have to face it all by yourself.

The survivors—those who had managed to escape the collapse of buildings or who had emerged from the wreckage—followed behind you, a somber procession of hollow eyes and ashen faces. Their steps were slow, heavy with the weight of shock. No words passed between them, no cries for help—only silence and the occasional sob as they moved like ghosts through the streets, trying to find some semblance of safety, of life, in this broken world.

Your heart ached for them, for their pain, but your own grief consumed you. The memory of your family’s voices, the warmth of your home, felt so distant now, like a dream you had just woken from. And yet, with each step you took beside Satoru, you realized that this nightmare was real, and there was no waking from it.

The earth beneath your feet still trembled occasionally, aftershocks reminding you that the worst might not yet be over. Each tremor sent a fresh wave of fear through your body, your grip tightening around Satoru’s hand. He responded in kind, his hand strong and reassuring, though you could sense the turmoil roiling beneath his calm exterior. His family, too, was somewhere in this mess. Their fate hung in the balance just as much as yours.

As you made your way through the gates, leaving behind the wreckage of your estate, you couldn’t help but glance back one final time. The place where you had grown up, where you had shared laughter, joy, and the news of your engagement just hours ago, was now unrecognizable. In the span of mere moments, everything you had known had been reduced to rubble, leaving behind only echoes of the life you had once cherished.

“Satoru…” your voice cracked as you spoke his name, the words barely audible over the distant cries. He stopped, turning to look at you, his eyes softening with concern.

“I know,” he whispered, his hand brushing against your cheek, wiping away the tears that had begun to fall unnoticed. “I know it’s hard. But we’ll make it through this. We have to.”

His resolve was unshakable, but you could see the grief hidden behind his determination. He was trying to be strong, not just for himself, but for you. His family’s estate lay ahead, yet you both feared what you would find when you arrived.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the land in shadow, you continued onward, the fire of Satoru’s presence the only thing keeping you from sinking into despair. The path was treacherous, littered with fallen beams and shattered stone, but Satoru led the way with careful, deliberate steps. He kept you close, his arm around your waist now, guiding you over the broken streets as you navigated what felt like the remains of the world.

Every glance revealed more heartache—broken homes, toppled lanterns, and the pale, lifeless faces of those who hadn’t made it. But Satoru never let you linger, gently urging you forward each time your gaze began to drift toward the horror around you.

Finally, you reached his family’s estate. Or what remained of it. The grand structure that had once stood proud and formidable was now a heap of collapsed roofs and shattered walls. The once beautiful garden, where you had shared many moments of happiness, was now a twisted, chaotic mess of uprooted trees and scorched earth.

Satoru stood still for a moment, his eyes scanning the destruction with a silent, composed fury. The pain was etched into his expression, though he quickly masked it as he turned to you, his voice low but firm.

"We’ll make it through tonight," he said. "We have to survive, no matter what."

In that moment, even as the world crumbled around you, there was no fear in his eyes—only determination. For now, all you could do was follow him. Follow him through the darkness, trusting that somewhere, beyond the destruction, hope still lingered. 

As you finally reached the outskirts of the Gojo estate, the enormity of the destruction hit you again. The town below had not been spared either. Smoke rose in the distance, and the ground was littered with rubble, buildings half-collapsed, and people wandering aimlessly, searching for loved ones.

Satoru didn’t hesitate. He pulled you forward, his grip never loosening as he led you through the streets toward his family’s home. But when you arrived, the sight that greeted you was even more devastating.

His family estate, much like your own, had been reduced to little more than a broken shell. The grand gates had collapsed, and the once beautiful gardens were torn apart, now little more than mounds of earth and stone. The house itself had fared no better, with parts of the roof caved in and walls shattered.

Satoru’s face paled as he took it all in, his hand tightening around yours in a desperate attempt to remain calm. But you could see it in his eyes—the grief, the disbelief. This was his home. His family. And now, it is gone.

For a long moment, he stood still, his gaze fixed on the destruction before him. His breathing was shallow, his grip on your hand tightening almost painfully. But then, with a sharp breath, he pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you protectively.

As you both began your journey toward the Gojo family estate, the weight of the day settled heavily on your shoulders. But Satoru’s hand never let go of yours, a silent promise that even in the face of unimaginable loss, you would survive this—together.

When you and Satoru finally reached the outskirts of his family estate, the sinking feeling in your chest returned with full force. What should have been a place of refuge, a sanctuary from the horrors you had just fled, was nothing but devastation. The Gojo estate, once majestic and proud, had fallen to the same fate as your home.

The gates were twisted and mangled, barely hanging from their hinges, and the walls that had once stood tall now lay in heaps of rubble. Smoke rose from what remained of the manor, a bitter scent of burning wood and stone hanging in the air. The destruction was so complete, so absolute, that it felt like the very earth had swallowed everything whole. The silence was deafening.

Gojo Satoru froze at the sight, his grip on your hand tightening until it almost hurt. You looked up at him, but his expression was unreadable, his usual brightness dulled to a vacant stare. His family, his home....everything he had known, everything he had grown up with. All was gone. Nothing was left but the earth where it all once stood.

You tried to say something, to offer words of comfort, but the lump in your throat made it impossible to speak. More tears could only pour out of your eyes from then on. All you could do was squeeze his hand, hoping he would feel your silent support. He didn't need to hear your words right now; he just needed to know you were there.

For a moment, he stood motionless, his blue eyes scanning the destruction as if trying to comprehend it, trying to find any sign of life among the wreckage. But there was nothing. Just like at your estate, the earthquake had consumed everything.

Finally, Satoru exhaled a shaky breath, his shoulders slumping ever so slightly. But even in his grief, he didn’t break. He couldn’t—not with you depending on him. He glanced down at you, his eyes softening with a kind of sadness you had never seen in him before. 

Satoru stopped for a moment, turning to you with a look of determination in his eyes. “We’ll make it through this,” he promised, his voice steady, though his eyes betrayed the fear he was trying so hard to hide. “We’ll get some place safe here, and I’ll make sure nothing ever hurts you again. You hear me?”

You nodded, though the world felt unsteady beneath you. The future that once seemed so bright, the engagement that had filled your heart with hope, now felt overshadowed by the tragedy that had befallen your lives. Still, with Satoru’s hand wrapped securely around yours, you knew one thing for certain—no matter what came next, you wouldn’t face it alone.

“We need to stay warm tonight.” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “It’s not safe to wander around in the dark. We’ll make a fire here, and then tomorrow, we’ll figure out what to do.”

He led you to a relatively clear patch of ground, away from the worst of the rubble. The sky was darkening, and the air had grown cold, a biting wind cutting through your torn clothes. Satoru quickly set to work, gathering what dry wood he could find, his movements steady and focused despite the grief that must have been tearing him apart inside.

You watched him in silence, too exhausted to help, too numb from everything that had happened. When the fire finally sparked to life, its warmth was a welcome reprieve from the cold that had settled deep into your bones. You sat beside him, huddled close to the flickering flames, the only source of light in the endless night.

Your Satoru didn’t speak for a long time. He simply stared into the fire, his expression distant, lost in thoughts you couldn’t fathom. His hands, usually so relaxed and playful, were tense, gripping his knees as if he were holding himself together by sheer force of will.

But then he turned to you, his gaze softening when he saw the exhaustion written on your face. Without a word, he pulled his outer robe from his shoulders and wrapped it around you, tucking it gently against your chin. He tried to do it, smiling like nothing happened. As though to comfort you even in all this suffering. And yet, you could see it all in his eyes. He was exhausted, he was in pain. And he didn’t know what to do.

“Sleep, my beloved.” he murmured, his voice low and soothing. “I’ll keep watch.”

You wanted to protest, to tell him that he needed rest just as much as you did, but your body betrayed you. The exhaustion, the grief, the sheer weight of everything you had been through—it was too much. You nodded weakly, laying your head against his shoulder as you curled into the warmth of the robe.

Satoru shifted slightly, easing you into a more comfortable position so you could lie down near the fire. His hand rested on your arm, a protective gesture that reminded you of his earlier promise. Even as the world fell apart around you, Satoru Gojo was still there, watching over you.

As you drifted off to sleep, lulled by the crackling of the fire and the steady rise and fall of his breathing, Satoru leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head. His lips lingered there for a moment, as if he were afraid to pull away, afraid that something might take you from him if he let go.

“I’ll keep you safe, my beloved.” he whispered against your hair, his voice trembling with the weight of his vow. “No matter what happens. I won’t let anything hurt you.”

The fire flickered, casting shadows across his face, but his resolve was unshakable. He couldn’t save everything—his home, his family—but he would save you. That much, he was certain of.

As you slept, Gojo Satoru remained awake, his eyes scanning the horizon, alert for any sign of danger. The devastation around him was complete, but his focus never wavered from you. You were his world now, the one thing he had left in the midst of the ruin.

The night stretched on, cold and unforgiving, but Satoru didn’t move from his spot by your side. Even as the grief gnawed at him, even as the weight of everything he had lost threatened to crush him, he stayed strong. For you. Because no matter what came next, no matter how uncertain the future had become, Gojo Satoru had made a promise—and he would keep it.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

THE YEAR 2018 WAS AN INTERESTING YEAR FOR DISCOVERIES. You remember reading about it in the newspaper on your way to university—the discovery of two lovers found in an eternal embrace, huddled together in a shoreline cave, their bodies preserved for three hundred years by the elements that had claimed their lives. 

The volcanic eruption, the earthquake, and the tsunami that had ravaged Japan centuries ago were some of the worst disasters the country had ever known, obliterating entire villages and swallowing countless lives in an instant. And yet, even in the face of such unimaginable destruction, these two had remained together, their bond undisturbed by the passage of time.

Standing quietly in front of the memorial, you felt the weight of their story settle around you. The air was still and somber, carrying with it the distant hum of waves crashing along the shore. The stone monument before you was simple yet profound—a silent marker of the love these two souls had shared, a love that had endured in the most unimaginable of circumstances. Their bodies had been found in the ruins of a household long buried by the mud and debris, a household much like the ones surrounding this coastline, now reduced to scattered memories.

You had followed the story from the beginning—the day the archaeologists uncovered them from the earth, the painstaking care they took in revealing the remains. The headlines had drawn attention, not because of the tragedy alone, but because of the story those two bodies told.

There were no names. No clues as to who they had been, what their lives had looked like before the disaster struck, or even how they had ended up in each other’s arms when the end came. But it didn’t matter. Their identities weren’t needed to understand the significance of what had been found. What mattered was that they had faced their final moments without fear. They had faced the end together, with love.

It was that thought—the resilience of love in the face of overwhelming disaster—that had touched you most deeply. In a world where so much is fragile and fleeting, the strength of their connection had remained, even after centuries had passed. It was as if their love had transcended the destruction, as if they had chosen to defy the disaster by holding on to one another in their last breath.

You stepped forward, placing your hands together in silent prayer. You wished them peace, a kind of peace that transcended the tragedy of their death, that honored the love they had shared.

You prayed that their spirits had found rest, and that wherever they were now, they were still together, watching over the place where they had once stood. The offering you placed at the memorial was simple, a bouquet of white chrysanthemums, symbolizing purity and remembrance.

"I pray that you'll always be together, the two of you." you murmured, your voice soft, barely louder than the breeze that rustled through the trees around the monument. "Wherever you are, I hope you’ve found peace, and that your love is still as strong as it was in those last moments."

You stayed there for a while, the silence of the memorial surrounding you, offering its quiet comfort. The sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm glow over the scene, a contrast to the deep sense of loss the place carried. But you didn’t feel sadness. Instead, there was something almost beautiful about it—knowing that even in the face of disaster, these two had been together, and their love had transcended time. As you prepared to leave, footsteps approached from behind. You turned slightly, curious to see who else had come to visit this quiet, forgotten place.

A man with striking white hair and bright blue eyes under the rim of his glasses stood at the edge of the memorial, his head bowed in silent prayer. He was tall, his presence commanding even though he moved with a quiet grace. His features were sharp, but softened by a kind of deep, unspoken sorrow. He knelt down beside the monument, laying a single white flower on the stone, his fingers brushing the surface with reverence.

You watched him for a moment, feeling an inexplicable sense of familiarity, though you couldn’t quite place it. The way he stood there—tall and composed, with an air of quiet reverence that just seemed to draw you in.

There was something almost ethereal about him, as if he was intrinsically linked to the story of the lovers you had come to honor. The connection felt deeper than mere coincidence, as though his presence was a significant part of the narrative that had touched you so profoundly.

His white hair glowed softly in the fading light, and his posture was relaxed yet dignified, embodying a calmness that contrasted sharply with the turmoil you had felt as you reflected on the lovers’ fate.

His eyes were closed in prayer, his face serene, as if he was offering a deeply personal tribute to the souls who had been found together in their final moments. The sense of connection was so strong that you could almost feel it emanating from him, a silent bridge spanning the centuries between his presence and the lovers' tragic end.

You hesitated, not wanting to intrude on his moment of solitude. Yet, there was something compelling about the situation—an unspoken invitation to acknowledge the shared significance of this place and the story that bound them all together. Your curiosity and empathy drove you to speak, despite the quietude that hung between you.

“Excuse me.” you began softly, breaking the stillness of the memorial. Your voice was gentle, barely a whisper against the backdrop of the crashing waves. “I couldn’t help but notice… There's something about you that feels so familiar, so connected to this place. I… I’ve been deeply moved by the story of the lovers found here, and I can’t shake the feeling that you share a connection with them.”

The man turned toward you, his eyes meeting yours with a mixture of surprise and understanding. He seemed to consider your words for a moment, his expression thoughtful and measured. There was a softness in his gaze, as if he had been waiting for this moment, this conversation, even if he didn’t quite know why.

“Oh.” Gojo Satoru whispered back, his cheeks tinged with a flush of surprise, as if your words had caught him off guard. He seemed momentarily at a loss, his usual confidence replaced with a bashful vulnerability. “Yeah, I… I saw the news, and I thought, I just had to come. It felt… it just felt right, you know? To come here and see them off, to wish them well.”

There was a sincerity in his voice, a raw honesty that struck a chord. You could see that this wasn’t just a casual visit for him; it was something deeply personal, a moment of reflection and respect that went beyond mere curiosity.

“I see…” you mumbled, your gaze softening as you looked at him. A smile slowly spread across your face, touched by his heartfelt gesture. “That’s kind of you to do.”

Gojo Satoru shook his head slightly, a rueful smile on his lips. “Ah, not… not really,” he said with a sigh, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly. “If anything, I think you were more kind. You brought them white chrysanthemums and everything. You probably had more of a proper prayer for them than I did.”

You waved off his comment with a small laugh, the sound light and airy in the quiet of the memorial. “Oh, not at all. I think… I think your intention was purer than mine. You came here just on a feeling, an instinct that something was right about being here. I was… I was interested historically before I was here emotionally, you know?”

His eyes met yours, a flicker of understanding passing between you. “I guess we both had our reasons,” he said softly. “But in the end, it’s the connection that matters. Whether we came here out of personal feelings or historical interest, it’s our respect and acknowledgement that count.”

You nodded, feeling a shared sense of purpose in your conversation. There was something profoundly meaningful about how your paths had crossed at this place, driven by a mutual respect for the story of the lovers and a desire to honor their memory. The distinction between your reasons for being here seemed to dissolve in the face of a greater truth—that both of you were here because of a deep-seated respect and a wish to pay tribute to the enduring power of love.

“So……” Gojo continued, a slight smile returning to his lips, ���I’m glad we met here. It feels like the right place for this kind of encounter, don’t you think?”

You agreed, feeling a warmth in his words. “Yes, it does. It’s like the universe brought us together in this moment to remind us of something important.”

He nodded, his expression thoughtful. “Yeah, something like that. It’s nice to know that even after so much time, and despite all the changes and challenges we face, there are still moments that can bring people together in such a profound way.”

You stood together in silence for a moment, the weight of your shared understanding settling around you. The memorial continued to stand as homage to the lovers’ eternal bond, and in that quiet, sacred space, you felt a connection that transcended all the limits given by the bountiful universe.

“They were together until the very end.” you said softly, your voice carried by the gentle wind. “I hope they’re still together, wherever they are.”

The tall man took a deep breath, turning his head to look at you. For a moment, his blue gaze seemed distant, as though he were seeing something—or someone—far beyond the present. But then his lips curled into a small, sad smile. 

“They will be, you know?” he replied quietly, his voice deep and filled with a quiet conviction. “Some loves are strong enough to last forever. They…they transcend, even time.”

There was something in his tone, a weight to his words, that made you wonder if he was speaking from experience. You gave him a respectful nod, choosing not to pry into the emotions that seemed to flicker beneath his calm exterior.

The two of you stood there in silence for a while longer, both paying your respects to the nameless lovers who had defied death with their love. The sun continued to dip lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the memorial. Finally, the man rose to his feet, brushing the dust from his clothes before turning to you.

“Take care, stranger.” he said softly, his voice carrying a warmth that contrasted with the sorrow that had lingered moments before. Then, with one last look at the monument, he began to walk away, his white hair catching the fading light like a beacon.

As you watched him go, something tugged at your heart. You didn’t know who he was, but in that moment, you felt as though you had shared something important with him—an unspoken understanding of love and loss, of holding on to someone even when the world falls apart around you. 

Somehow, there was something stirring within you—a feeling that you couldn’t let him just walk away, not without knowing more. There was something about him, an invisible thread connecting you, as if fate had brought you both to this quiet place for a reason.

"Wait! Hey, mister!" you called out softly, taking a few steps toward him. The man paused, turning back to face you, his expression curious but calm.

You hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to say. But then, with a gentle smile, you extended your hand. "I didn’t get the chance to introduce myself. My name is……"

He looked at you for a moment, as if weighing whether to reciprocate. Then, with a small, almost teasing smile, he took your hand in his. His grip was warm, steady, and comforting in a way that felt strangely familiar.

"I'm Gojo Satoru." he said, his voice smooth, yet laced with something deeper, as if his name carried a history he didn’t fully reveal.

The name hung in the air between you, and for a brief moment, you felt a flicker of recognition. But it was fleeting, gone as quickly as it had come. You smiled politely, though something about the way he said it, the way his gaze softened as he looked at you, made you feel like there was more to his introduction than simple formality.

"It's nice to meet you, Satoru." you replied, feeling a strange sense of ease as you spoke his name. There was something about the way it rolled off your tongue, as if you'd said it a thousand times before.

He tilted his head slightly, his sharp, crystal-blue eyes studying you with an intensity that was both disarming and oddly reassuring. It was as if he could see beneath the surface, understanding more than what was immediately apparent. Yet, instead of feeling exposed, you felt a sense of comfort, a silent acknowledgment that he grasped the depths of your emotions and thoughts.

With a gentle, almost shy smile, Gojo Satoru reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, extending it toward you. “Put your number in,” he said, his voice tender and inviting. “I think… I think you know more about this story than I do. I’d like to know more, if you’re willing to share.”

You blinked, momentarily taken aback by the request, but the sincerity in his voice and the warmth of his smile compelled you to act. With a nod, you took his phone from him and began to enter your contact information, a small flutter of excitement rising in your chest. There was something intriguing about the prospect of continuing this conversation, of sharing more about the story that had brought you both here.

When you handed his phone back to him, a playful grin appeared on your face. “It’s your turn,” you said, taking out your own phone and extending it toward him.

Gojo Satoru chuckled softly, his eyes lighting up with amusement as he looked at your phone. “Well, alright.” he said, taking it with a mock sigh of resignation. “If you insist.”

As he entered his number into your phone, the atmosphere between you shifted from one of solemn reflection to one of friendly connection. The small act of exchanging numbers felt like a bridge, linking your shared experience at the memorial with the potential for future conversations and deeper understanding. Maybe, just maybe — you’ll understand life the way these two in front of you did. Just maybe.

When he handed your phone back to you, he looked at you with a genuine smile. “Thanks for sharing this moment with me. It’s been… meaningful. I’m glad we crossed paths today.”

You smiled back, feeling a warmth in your chest that came from more than just the shared experience. “I’m glad too. It’s not every day you meet someone who understands the significance of something like this so deeply.”

Finally, Satoru spoke again, his tone lightening slightly. "Well, I should be going. The train is leaving soon. But... It was nice meeting you." He paused, his eyes lingering on yours for a moment longer than necessary. "Maybe we’ll see each other again."

You smiled, feeling the same unspoken connection. "I’d like that."

With one last look at the memorial, Satoru turned and began to walk away, his white hair catching the fading light of the day. You watched him go, a strange sense of calm settling over you.

As you stood there, the weight of the lovers' story still fresh in your heart, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t the last time you would see Gojo Satoru. Something told you that your paths would cross again, in ways you couldn’t yet predict.

And as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows over the memorial, you whispered one final prayer—not just for the nameless lovers, but for yourself, and perhaps for Satoru too.

"May we all find each other, in every lifetime."

[skitskatdacat63]

I know it would literally never happen, but whenever the speculation of who the next James Bond will be comes up, I can only think about how I would sell my soul to get a butch lesbian James Bond 😣

[gremlinhourz]

genuinely expecting to fail my first class in college!! and its like as much as i can get upset at myself for continuing the cycle of procrastination that ive been trying to break free from for years, i also feel like the reason im primarily upset is because i feel like im disappointing others and/or giving them a bad impression of me. like im not upset because i think i could have done more, im upset because i think other people will think i could have done more. when like honestly with school ive just developed an "it is what it is" attitude, like all i can do is try and try again, and if that means taking eng111, crashing and burning, but most importantly learning, then taking eng111 again, so fucking be it

[signedkoko]

Signed with Love - Overlords & Sins

What is this? - A valentines gift to my lovely readers! Its valentines/love letters from your favourites 🖤

Characters - Asmodeus | Beelzebub | Carmilla | Mammon | Rosie | Valentino | Velvette | Vox | Zestial

Series Parts Hazbin Cast - Here! Helluva Cast - Here!

Dear to the dearest,

You've always got me running myself sappy, but I'd like to offer my hand to you this valentines.

You know how popular Ozzie's is on Valentines, so how about a nice spot for brunch and then we pick a song to perform together tonight? Just you and I on stage, surrounded by people who wish they had what we do~

Eagerly awaiting your reply,

Prince of Lust, and yours forever;

Asmodeus

Heya lovely!

I'm so fucking excited to be spending valentines with you this year, and I don't say it enough so here it is in writing!

Normally I throw a party but I don't know, I kinda rocked with the galentines dinner you suggested, I'm thinking we invite some of our closest and have a hell of a good night, yeah?

You're the only party that matters,

Your Queenie Bee🐝

Mi vida,

I think it's about time we get away from work and the girls, how about we take valentines off?

I've always wanted to show you some of the places I used to frequent, since you always ask it only seems fair. I'm sure you'll adore the cuisine, I miss it dearly.

I'll help you get ready before we leave,

C. Carmine

Sup hottie!

How about we ditch my valentines show and leave it to the performers to take care of shit? I much rather be with ya anyways.

Anything you want, just tell me. I'll take care of everything from there babe.

Love ya more than you know,

MAMMON

Sweetest darling,

I reckon its about time I follow my own advice and pursue the one I love this valentines.

We can take a break from everything and go sight seeing! I don't get away from the town much, but everything you tell me sounds exquisite. We can go somewhere with a nice tune and I can really show you how I used to swing!

What do you say?

Your Rosie

Querida cariño,

Theres no reason for me to ask what I already know, and I don't want to hear another valentines joke about my name.

I know work has kept me busy babe, but this Valentines its just you and I. We can laze around all you want or you can drag me wherever, I'll make sure we get in.

Like a moth to a flame, eh?

Val.

Heya gorgeous,

Ive got two outfits in our sizes that could use a little test drive around town this valentines.

Already booked the photographer, so I hope you'll come model with me for my end february magazine, yeah? If you do a good job we can do dinner and drinks after, though you've never disappointed me, dolly!

You know I love you, always have & will

Velvette

Hope you're doing well, angel

You always joke that I can't write for shit so heres proof. In fact, I'm here to ask you to be my valentine.

I already know its a yes anyway, so how about I let you in on the itinerary? I got breakfast at the local spot booked with live music, an afternoon just the two of us, and for dinner I have our main reservation and a backup in case you don't like it.

Romantic or what?

Owner & CEO of VoxTek, Beloved valentine of you, Vox

Greetings,

Tis with great pleasure that thou is still by thine side after such an overwhelming year.

We must beg thou has considered indulging such an old soul in an evening of romance. Perhaps thou would dare to consider looking upon their bed, for there lays a gift.

Yours affectionately and forevermore,

Z

Authors Note - Who are you expecting a letter from? Who will you accept? I'd love to know! Heres to another part of the valentine sseries 🖤

[likeumeanit9497]

metal | m.s. |

matt sturniolo x fem!reader

summary: y/n got a few new piercings, and when her best friend matt asks to see them, she can't say no

warnings: smut; unprotected p in v (bad); oral (fem receiving); masturbation (m/f); phone sex; dirty talk; 18+

notes: hiii guys. i feel like tumblr's flakiest writer ever coming back on here every few weeks with a one-shot and telling u all im gonna be more consistent but then just not being consistent at all. i just started a new college program and it is taking up so (!!!!) much of my time, so ive been barely able to put any time towards writing for funsies. soooo it might take me a couple weeks to put out one shots (sad) while im in this program, but i swear im doing the best i can. i appreciate u all so so so so much, but matt girls this one is for u <33

─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─

With a sigh of relief, I crawled into bed. It was late, and I was exhausted after a long day of dealing with family shit. The only thing that got me through my day listening to my dead-beat father come up with yet another excuse on why he no-showed at my birthday dinner was the promise that, at the end of the day, I would be able to curl up in bed and forget all of my problems. Now that time had come, and I couldn’t wait to turn on some trashy reality TV show and lose myself in their cushioned world for a little while.

Just as I started the show, I felt my phone vibrate beside me. For just a moment I was filled with dread — thinking that I would be once again pulled back into the drama that was my father — but once I saw the name at the top of my screen, I felt my body relax. Matt was calling.

Matt was my best friend, and he had been for years. Him and I met on the first day of school freshman year, and immediately became inseparable. He was the only person in my life who I ever felt comfortable around enough to truly open up to about my problems. There really wasn’t much in my life that he didn’t know, so of course I had told him last night that I was going to see my father, and of course that was why he was calling. Annoyingly, I felt a smile creep up on my face. I hated that I loved how involved he got with my problems; as if they were his own. I would never admit this to anyone, but it really helped because it made me feel less alone.

“Hey you.” I greeted him after accepting the call. “Hey Y/n.” His voice sounded familiar in my ear, and already it calmed the sea of bad thoughts crashing in my mind. “How did today go?” He asked, keeping his tone light. I knew though that if I could see his face, there would be faint lines of concern etched in his forehead. I sighed. “Exactly like I knew it would. He gave me an insincere apology and weak excuse the way he always does.” Matt stayed silent on the other side of the call, allowing me the time to tell him as much as I wanted. His soft breathing through the speaker, however, comforted me and let me know that he was listening.

“He smelled like a distillery and couldn’t stop slurring his words, yet he was still trying to tell me that he hadn’t drank all week.” I heard my voice weaken, and I hated that I felt a lump forming in my throat over the situation. I hated that I cared, and I definitely didn’t want anyone to know that I did; even Matt. But of course, he knew anyways. I heard an empathetic sigh through the phone. “I’m sorry, Y/n.” I rolled my eyes, doing everything I could to keep the tears from falling. “It’s whatever. It’s not like I’m really losing much, but I did tell him that I’m done for good.” I forced my words to come out smooth, like I didn’t care. And I didn’t, not really.

“That must have been really hard, Y/n. I’m really sorry.” Matt’s words were sincere, and they caused the lump in my throat to grow even bigger. I forced out a laugh to keep my other emotions at bay. “Don’t be sorry. It’s better this way. Maybe now I can finally have peace in my crazy life.” There was silence on the line, and I knew it was because Matt wanted me to go deeper about my feelings, but I couldn’t handle much more tonight.

“Anyways,” I started, blinking away my tears and plastering a corny smile on my face as if Matt could even see it, “How have you been? We haven’t talked much over the past week.” At the change of subject, Matt picked up on my disinterest in the topic of my father, and like the best friend he is, transitioned into our new topic smoothly. “I’ve been good, been working a lot but it’s been on exciting things. What have you been up to? You know, besides today?” I chuckled softly.

“Honestly not much besides work. My boss has been really stressed out since the end of last quarter so I’ve been coming into the office early and staying well past five every day.” I paused, staring up at my ceiling trying to think if there was anything exciting I could tell Matt. Suddenly, I remembered that there actually was something that I had done that was more interesting than just working late all week. “Oh! I also got some new piercings last week.” It was Matt’s turn to chuckle.

“Y/n, how the fuck did you fit more piercings on your body?” I laughed. He was right, both of my ears were filled with every piercing imaginable, and I also had my nose, tongue, and belly button pierced. I had already told him that I would never get anymore facial piercings, and I certainly didn’t have much room on my ears to get more, so I understood his confusion entirely. “Do you want to guess where they are?” I teased, feeling relieved to have something to talk about that didn’t make be absolutely miserable for once. “Sure,” I heard what sounded like a blanket rubbing against the speaker, and I assumed that Matt was now getting comfortable in bed, also seemingly enjoying the light-hearted conversation, “But can I get some hints?”

“Sure,” I replied, “You can ask me three questions.” I heard him smile through the phone. “Okay…” There was a pause as he came up with his first question. “How many did you get?” Without hesitation, I was able to respond. “I got three.” There was another pause, and then. “Are two of them a part of a pair?” I laughed at Matt’s not-so-subtle guess. I had told him months ago that I had been wanting to get a certain pair of piercings for a while, and I knew he was thinking of that exact conversation. “Yes they are.” I replied, and there was a dramatic gasp on the line. “Ouch, you actually got your nipples pierced?” His voice was laced with playful concern, and something else. Intrigue?

“Okay okay, you got two out of the three. One more question left.” I encouraged him. If he was shocked about my nipple piercings, I couldn’t wait to hear his reaction to the third. He was silent again for a moment, surely confused by the third piercing. Nipple piercings weren’t that outlandish for me, and he knew that, but this last one is sure to blow his mind. “Oh god, I don’t know. Is it another body piercing?” His tone sounded so helpless, and I knew he really didn’t have a clue. “It is, yes.” I did my best to contain my laughter at this point, not wanting to give it away.

“Is it a second belly button piercing?” The guess was weak, and by the tone of his voice he knew it. “Nope.” I replied, biting my nails in anticipation. He was once again silent on the phone, and I knew he was officially running out of ideas. After a moment, I decided to give him one last hint. “Think lower.”

A new silence poured from the phone. Before, there was the silence of deep thought. Now, there was a heavier silence that let me know he finally put it together in his head. Below your belly button, there aren’t many places you can get pierced. He knew that just as much as I did. But I didn’t know if his silence meant he was just shocked, or if he was genuinely disappointed in me. For the first time since becoming friends with Matt, I felt nervous that maybe I had gone too far.

“You’re serious?” He asked, finally breaking his silence, and I couldn’t help but release a short, nervous laugh. “Yeah. Why? Did I just delve too far into the daddy-issues stereotype?” I tried to keep my tone humorous, but inside I was actually worried that was true. Did he think I was weird now? Or did the fact that I had a piece of metal pierced atop my bundle of nerves immediately turn me into some dirty whore in his eyes?

“No! Jesus, no Y/n.” His rushed words put a pause on my spiralling thoughts, and I felt myself relax slightly. “It’s just,” In that moment, I wished that I could see his face. At least then I would have better odds of being able to read him instead of just waiting helplessly on the other side of the phone. He was struggling to find the words he wanted to say, and in my mind that meant he was getting ready to give me some sort of lecture. It wasn’t something that he was in the habit of doing, but I had also never done anything as shocking as this before. I began to prepare myself for this lecture, and come up with explanations and excuses for what I had done, when his hesitant words stopped me in my tracks.

“Can I see them?”

I stared at my phone for a second, unsure if I was just hearing things. “You want to see them?” I couldn’t stop myself from asking, for clarification’s sake. I was shocked. Even with how close Matt and I are, we had never ever seen each other naked. In fact, there had been no physical intimacy between us other than platonic cuddles every once in a while. I would be lying, though, if I denied ever having moments of weakness. There had been times, when we would have sleepovers after tough days and the heat of Matt’s comforting body pressed against me, where I had wanted to throw all logic aside and press my lips to his. But I never would have done it. Matt wasn’t exactly known for his boldness, and I feared that my bad habit of being spontaneous would absolutely destroy our friendship. But now, he had me questioning all of that.

“I’m curious.” He replied, his tone nonchalant. I still couldn’t tell if he was being serious, and I felt like a deer in headlights. Just as I was about to tell him to stop fucking around, my screen lit up with a Facetime call from Matt. My stomach did a flip. “You gonna pick up?” His voice made me jump, but I cleared my throat and hit accept.

Suddenly, Matt’s face filled my screen. He was in his bed, the only light in his room seeming to come from a faint source; likely his computer screen. His face was so familiar, and the smile he sent me so comforting, that I immediately felt more at ease than I felt before. “Hey.” He said gently, and I laughed at the ridiculousness of this moment. “Hey” I replied before shifting my position in bed nervously. “So you were serious?” I asked awkwardly, and he nodded. “If you’re okay with it, obviously.” I took a deep breath. I was okay with it, of course, but it was just so out of the norm for us that I felt shell shocked.

“I’ll show you nipples first.” I said, sitting up in my bed before grabbing the bottom hem of my oversized t-shirt. I positioned my phone in front of my still-clothed chest, and watched his face on the screen. He laid naturally in bed, acting as if nothing was out of the ordinary, but the way his dilated blue eyes were glued to the screen I could tell that he was feeling the same kind of anticipation that I was. Slowly, I finally lifted my shirt up over my chest; allowing him a full view of my new piercings.

I intentionally left the shirt up to block my own vision, because I couldn’t handle watching him stare at my tits for the first time. In the dark, all I heard was silence for what felt like forever, and I got worried that I had somehow lost him. Cautiously, I pulled my t-shirt away from my eyes, and glanced at him on the screen. He was staring intently; I could see his eyes move from one tit to the other every few seconds, and there was a slight grin across his face. “Wow.” He said finally, still taking them in. “Those are sick piercings.” I stifled a laugh at the fact that he was still trying to act like it was all just about the piercings, and that there weren’t two tits attached to the metal. “Thanks.” I replied, a small chuckle still evident in my voice.

I allowed him a few more seconds of shameless staring before speaking again. “You ready for the third?” I watched as he blinked a few times and took a deep breath. “I can’t wait.” He replied, causing my stomach to do another flip. I brought the phone back up to my face as I laid back down, smiling at him nervously as I pulled my comforter off my lower body. I was only wearing a pair of panties, so I already felt shy when I positioned my phone in between my legs. I used the front camera still, hoping that it would allow him a better view, but hated that you could still see the lower part of my face.

Matt hadn’t moved in his bed since I looked at him last. In fact, it almost looked like his image was frozen. His eyes were still glued to the screen, and he seemed to be barely blinking; as if he was scared that if he did, he would miss it entirely. “Okay, ready?” I asked, using the hand that wasn’t holding the phone steady to grab onto the side of my panties. Even in the almost-dark of his room, I could see him gulp before nodding his head. “Ready.” He replied.

Slowly, I hooked a finger under my panties, and pulled them to the side. In the blink of an eye, all of me had been revealed to Matt through a screen inches away from my core. My eyes veered back and forth from myself in the phone and Matt’s expression. I could see the shiny metal glitter against my pink clit, and watched as Matt visibly struggled to keep his composure. Neither of us spoke for a moment, and I felt myself begin to tremble under his shameless stare. I grew nervous, then, that my body would begin to give away how suddenly aroused I became under his eyes. My core was flooding with heat, and I knew that I was beginning to grow slick with my wetness.

“Does it hurt?” He finally spoke, but his voice had changed drastically since I had last heard it. It had dropped nearly a whole octave, and there was a sort of breathlessness to it that was foreign to me. It was the voice of arousal, and that knowledge was enough to drive me crazy. “N-no, it doesn’t,” I replied, using all the strength in me to not squeeze my legs together to relieve some of the pressure flooding my core. “It’s been a week, and these sorts of piercings heal really quick surprisingly. I can touch it and everything.” My last sentence fell from my mouth thoughtlessly, and I immediately felt my cheeks grow hot at my accidental boldness. That didn’t last long, though, because Matt’s next words pulled all that heat right back to where it was before.

“So touch it then.”

It was like all the sense was knocked out of me from his words. I would have thought that my instinct would have been to laugh and roll my eyes before telling Matt to knock it off, but the seriousness of his tone, the sharp blue of his piercing eyes, and gruffness of his voice caused my brain to shut off. Immediately, my hand traveled to my bud, where I began to slowly play with the metal. Although I had been telling the truth when I told Matt that it was fully healed, I hadn’t yet touched myself in this way since getting it pierced, and the new sensation immediately sent pleasurable shock waves through my body. As I began to slowly rub my clit, the metal added a new level of pressure to the nerves that — combined with the adrenaline that came from doing this in front of my best friend for the first time — caused me to throw my head back against my pillows.

“Tell me how it feels.” Matt’s deep voice filled the space around me in a way that made me feel even more erotic, and I released a soft moan. “I-It feels good.” I replied breathlessly, my fingers beginning to move quicker as I squeezed my eyes shut in pleasure. “Better than before?” His question came out slightly choppy, and through the phone speaker I heard the rhythmic shuffling of his comforter. “Y-yes. Much better.” I managed to reply, the thought of what he was doing to himself on the other side of the screen pushing me closer to the edge.

“Look at me.” He commanded, and without hesitation I lifted my head up; looking at him through the screen. He could only see the lower half of my face, but I could see all of his. As I continued toying with myself, I watched him through fluttering eyelashes. Although his face had not changed much — besides the darkening of his pupils and the faint accumulation of sweat on his brow — the repetitive movement of his bicep at the corner of the screen told me everything that I needed to know. “You look so good.” He complimented me, his voice low and gravelly. I moaned in response, rolling my hips slowly as I began to grow antsy with a need that I knew I couldn’t fulfill myself.

The pleasure was growing like a balloon deep inside of me, but my own fingers weren’t enough to reach it. Not now; not when I have a beautiful man that I trust more than anyone else watching me with that dangerously erotic gaze. Just like Matt knows everything about me, I know everything about him. And so I know that, in this moment, he wants the same thing that I do. That’s why I didn’t feel any unease or hesitation when I drew my fingers away from my clit, ran them achingly slow along the rest of my heat, and spoke.

“Please come over Matt.”

It was a request that I had made to him countless times. Those times I was usually close to tears after a long day of dealing with the shitty cards I had been handed in the family department. I needed him then, like I need him now. In those times he never ever hesitated, and this time was no different. In one swift motion, I watched through the screen as Matt lifted himself out of his bed, threw on a t-shirt, and grabbed his keys off the bedside table. “I’ll be there in ten.” Just like my request, his response was the same as always. As I told him to drive safe before hanging up the call, I felt my body vibrate in a way it never had before. I pulled my hand out of my panties and waited in desperate anticipation for the familiar sound of his car pulling into my driveway.

𓆩☆𓆪

Matt arrived at my place in eight minutes, and as soon as I saw his headlights through my window, I sprung out of bed and raced to the door. There was no nervousness, no reluctancy, no questioning whether or not we were making a big mistake; all I knew was that I needed his hands on my burning skin desperately.

I flung the door open before he even had a chance to knock, but Matt didn’t hesitate before pulling me into him and engulfing my mouth with his own. Although we had never kissed before, it wasn’t shock that I felt in that moment; it was the melting satisfaction of familiarity. I practically collapsed in his arms as his mouth moved against mine as if they were two pieces of a puzzle, and relished in the feeling of his hands travelling wildly across my aching body at last.

As he held me gently against the wall, I felt his hardened member press against my core, and I shuddered in pleasurable frustration. In that moment, I could have lost all self control — pulled his pants and boxers down in one movement and slipped his cock into my aching core right then and there — if he hadn’t grabbed onto my ass and lifted me off of the ground. Without removing his lips from mine, he carried me past my entrance way and all the way into my dark bedroom as if he had memorized every square inch of my place.

As he continued to kiss me with hungry desire, he paradoxically draped my body gently against my bed. Leaning over me, his mouth refused to leave mine and his tongue begged me for entrance. I obliged, and our tongues swirled together with comfort; as if they were old friends. The sound of our heavy breathing filled my head, and I ran my hands along his body; allowing myself to feel him in a way I never had before. Each part of him felt familiar — his back, his arms, his stomach — but each new part of him I touched set off sparks of electricity under my fingertips. This was real, and this was good.

It was only after I began toying with the waistband of his pants, and he the hem of my shirt, that our lips separated and we really looked at each other since the moment he arrived. Both of our chests were heaving as we tried to catch our breath, and I gazed up at his darkened eyes for what felt like forever, until a soft smile crept onto his swollen lips. “Hi.” He said, and I released a short laugh realizing that this was the first word either one of us had said to the other since hanging up the Facetime call. “Hey.” I replied, a smile matching his now etched onto my face.

“Can I take this off?” He tugged on the bottom of my t-shirt, and I nodded. “Please.” I replied, feeling no shame in my clear desperation. Matt obliged, pulling the shirt up over my head and exposing the tits he had seen on Facetime not long before. There was a pause, and for the first time since we started all this I felt briefly insecure. That is, until I looked up to his face and saw his jaw physically dropped in awe. He looked like he had fallen into some sort of trance, and mindlessly brought his two gentle hands toward my hardened, pierced nipples. He ran a soft thumb against each piercing, and I hissed at the deliciously taunting sensation.

“Do these ones hurt at all?” His voice was soft, almost a whisper, but his eyes never left my chest. “These ones do a little, yeah.” I replied, to which his eyes finally fluttered up to my face with slight concern. “But it’s really not that bad.” I added, reassuring him out of fear that he might suddenly not want to continue. This seemed to help, as his eyes made their way back to my chest before his body suddenly began tilting forward. He leaned above my chest, really only centimetres away, and I watched as he placed two small, unbelievably gentle kisses against each hardened nipple. The ecstasy I felt in that moment caused me to release a soft moan, and goosebumps spread across my skin like wildfire, and I suddenly realized that I needed him more than ever.

As if reading my mind, his mouth then began moving slowly down my writhing body. He took his time on my sternum, then the skin below my belly button, then my hip bones, and I felt like I could explode. My hands flew to his hair and I subconsciously tugged at its base in decadent frustration. And then slowly, so, so, slowly, Matt began dragging my soaked panties down my legs. I felt like I could crumble under his gaze, but his eyes never left my newly exposed core. Blinking ever so slowly, he dropped to his knees and grabbed my shaky legs to part them. Once he did, I watched as he groaned softly at what he saw.

I knew without having to look that I was literally dripping from arousal, and that hunch was confirmed when Matt took one finger and dragged it along my slit; collecting the overabundance of fluid. He didn’t even take his eyes off of my centre, he just brought his wet finger to his mouth and wrapped his lips around it; so transfixed by what he saw in front of him that he didn’t even care to make a scene of tasting me for the first time. I had never felt more glorious than I did in that moment, and it was so overwhelming that I could have came just from sight alone.

Slowly, Matt’s mouth inched closer and closer to my clit, before he carefully wrapped his lips around it. Upon the first contact of his warm tongue playing with the cool metal of my piercing, I was hit with a powerful wave of pleasure that shook my whole body. As he picked up speed, swirling and sucking my bundle of nerves, I couldn’t control the sounds that fell from my lips. Moans of pleasure, pain, and anticipation filled the room, and they only seemed to draw similar ones from Matt.

Matt slid two fingers into me with ease, and began pumping them in and out in rhythm with the movements of his tongue. His fingers were curled up to just the place I needed them to be, and I felt what was left of my sanity begin to crumble as I approached an orgasm. The orgasm that I had been desperately needing since our Facetime call. It’s impending presence had taken control of my mind for what felt like forever, and now it was finally threatening to take control of my entire body. Yet, still, I needed more.

Quickly, before the first waves could crash, I pulled Matt’s face away. Immediately, his blissed-out expression quickly changed to one of concern, but before he had the chance to speak, my desperate voice filled the room. “Please Matt, I want to cum with you.” His features softened before understanding flashed in his eyes. Without saying a word, he stood up and began unzipping his pants. I waited in anticipation, watching with hungry eyes as his painfully hard member sprung free from his boxers. Once he had fully discarded his clothes, he leaned down and kissed me so deeply that I saw stars. His mouth tasted like me, and I couldn’t help but slip my tongue past his lips; intoxicated by the combination of me and him on my tastebuds.

I felt his naked member press against my core and I shuddered from pure lust. I was so engulfed in the intensity that I was afraid I would fall into pieces as soon as he slid into me. Breaking the kiss, Matt straightened himself out and grabbed my legs before placing them on either side of his waist. The two pieces of us that needed each other the most right now were just inches from one another. My eyes fell between my legs, and I watched in euphoric awe as Matt grabbed his swollen member, lined it up with my centre, and slowly pushed into me. His movements were so torturously, deliciously slow, my eyes rolled and my head fell back onto the mattress.

On each slow roll of his hips, his cock slammed into my g-spot and made my vision go spotty. I held onto his flexed shoulders like I was drowning and they were my life raft, and I released harsh guttural moans each time my walls stretched; welcoming him graciously. “Fuck, you feel so good.” Matt’s raspy voice fluttered my stomach, and I opened my eyes to come face-to-face with him. He was staring down at my contorted face with a look filled with nothing but pleasure and adoration. His flushed cheeks and dark pink lips gave him a look that bordered on innocent, but there was a certain hint of hard focus in the depths of his ocean eyes that told me he was feeling as good as I was.

Each time he thrusted into me, the soft crest of his pelvis brushed ever so lightly against my new piercing; granting me a new form of pleasure that I had never experienced before. I had been told by other people that the piercing can be intense during sex, but I had underestimated just how intense it would be. I had no sense of control as Matt’s cock continued to drive into me, and I couldn’t help but vocalize how he was making me feel.

“J-just like that Matt, fuck!”

“Your c-cock fills me s-so go-od!”

“H-harder, please baby!”

At my last statement, Matt showed he was listening by suddenly slamming into me harder and faster than I had ever felt before. He grabbed my legs and wrapped them tightly around his waist, and as I arched my back in pleasure he draped one of his arms around it and used the other to hold my jaw; brushing it lightly with his thumb to ensure me that his gentleness had not completely disappeared. His breathing quickly grew more and more rapid, and deep grunts fell from his mouth every few seconds.

I was hit with shockwaves of pleasure upon each of his thrusts, and I knew that my orgasm was closer than ever. I dug my nails into his back and tightened my legs around him in a desperate and subconscious attempt at getting as close as possible to him, and it was clear that there was no stopping the orgasm that was bubbling inside of me. “G-gonna cum Matt.” I squeaked out, rolling my hips up slightly deepen his thrusts even more. “Good girl, want me to cum with you?” His words were in my ear, and even the dampness that his mouth made against my skin added to my unraveling euphoria. Beyond the point of being able to speak correctly, I simply nodded my head frantically.

As I did, Matt released the deep moan that pushed me over the edge. My orgasm took control of every cell in my body, and I cried out in overwhelming pleasure as it tore me to shreds. I felt my body stiffen so much that I was practically lifting off of the bed, and my walls pulsed intensely as I squirted violently all over Matt. Just then, I felt Matt’s body stiffen above me, and his movements became a whisper as he cursed into my ear. “Oh fuck, fuck, fuck.” His moans rang in my ear with each of his weak thrusts, and I felt his twitching cock paint my walls white as he came undone in unison with me.

Eventually, his body stilled completely, and he rested above me as we both caught our breaths and came down from our highs. His cock slipped out of me, and I immediately felt cold and empty in its absence. After a few moments, Matt lifted his head from my shoulder and gazed at me with a soft smile on his face.

“Damn.”

“I know.”

”I mean, that was-”

“I know.”

We continued to stare at each other, both with matching smiles on our faces, until I dissolved into childish giggles.

“What?” Matt asked, unable to keep himself from laughing as well. “What?” He asked again, nudging my shoulder gently as I giggled. “I mean come on,” I continued to laugh, “That was crazy. Don’t you think it was crazy?” I looked at him, starting to feel the first hints of regret now that it was over and we had to go back to being friends. “I don’t think it was crazy.” He replied simply, before bringing his lips back to mine. This kiss was different than the other ones we shared tonight, though. There was no hunger, no lust. There was just love.

He pulled away after only a few moments, and I looked back at him with what I was sure was confusion all over my face. “I have never felt less crazy in my life than I’ve felt tonight.” Matt continued, and I felt my stomach flutter, “Tonight, everything finally feels right.” I felt a bashful smile form on my lips. I would be lying if I said I didn’t feel the exact same way. “So,” I started, unsure of how to maneuver this, “What now?” Matt got up.

“Well,” He began, grabbing his discarded t-shirt and using it to gently clean me up, “It’s late and you’ve had a long day, so I think we should get some sleep.” I propped myself up on my shoulders and watched as he began to clean himself next. “And then when we wake up tomorrow, we’ll go get some breakfast and talk about what we both want.” He walked into my adjacent bathroom and started the shower, the way he has done a thousand times before, before walking back to where I was and helping me off the bed.

Once I was on my feet, he placed another gentle kiss against my lips, and I felt my insides melt at the comfort of his touch. “But if I’m being completely honest, which you know I always am, I think we both already know we want the same thing.” I looked up at him through nervous eyelashes, and had to chew my bottom lip to stifle the massive smile that was threatening to take over my mouth. Matt had no problem showing his huge smile, and he tilted his head quizzically in my silence. “Am I right?” He asked, and instead of responding with words, I leaned up and placed a kiss of my own on his lips.

─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─

[elordilover]

Hellooo ✨️ Could you write a friends to lovers walker x reader where reader plays walker's love interest ? Like everyone in the cast can see they like each other but them, and they get jealous when other people show interest in each other? Thank youu ❤️‍🩹

yess! thank you so much for the request!

“just friends”

pairing: walker scobell x fem! reader

summary: you play walker’s love interest in the pjo series, but is your romance just for the cameras?

warnings: none, not proofread, sorry if this is like my other friends to lovers with walker, it’s my fav trope i can’t help myself 💀

————————————————————————

“cmon just talk to him, everyone can tell you guys like each other!” dior told you.

“yeah i like him but he doesn’t like me i promise, we’ve had this conversation a million times already!” you told her.

“okay but the way he looks at you says otherwise”, she said, trying to prove her point. “Y/N i promise he does, i’ll ask him today”

“wait don’t”, you said quickly grabbing her phone, “don’t ask him, then he’ll know that i like him!”

“that’s the whole point Y/N! we are trying to set you up”, she protested.

—————

meanwhile:

“dude she likes you i promise”, aryan told walker.

“she could have anyone else, she would never date me”, walker said.

“i promise, just talk to her about it. you guys hang out all the time, aren’t you guys hanging out tomorow? just ask her then”, aryan said while putting this plan into action.

“no. tomorrows too early, maybe after the press tour”

“promise?” aryan said while he stuck out his pinky.

“promise.” walker said while bringing out his pinky and sealing the promise.

—————

it was the day after you and dior had the conversation. you were with walker right now, laying on his bed and talking, randomly showing each other tiktoks. he felt like home.

walker turned his head to look at you, “are you ready for all the interviews?”

“kind of. i’m excited to wear cute outfits, but not excited for dumb questions”, being this close to him game you butterflies. you could see his light freckles and the light pink flush on his cheeks. his beautiful blue eyes shined in the sun. you were sure your cheeks were bright red.

“same, im excited to be back with everyone though” he said while looking right into your eyes.

“same!!”, you said excitingly, “i can’t wait to see aryan again he’s so funny”, you said.

“yeah…. he is”, walker replied seeming more distant, you didn’t know why though. he kind of seemed jealous because you mentioned aryan.

—————

it was the first day of the press tour, it was the pjo series premier. you got dressed with leah and dior in your hotel room, there was also hairdressers and stylists with you. you were wearing a beautiful blue gown, with lace sleeves. leah was wearing a beautiful gold and blue gown.

you guys met up with the guys before walking the carpet for interviews, walker was wearing a deep navy suit. it complemented his eyes so well. he looked beautiful.

—————

“how did your relationships grow during filming?”, the interviewer asked, she had long beautiful blond hair with a gold dress.

“yeah i definitely grew closer to everyone during filming, especially walker and aryan, since i was filming with them all the time. i consider them my best friends now, they are the funniest people ive ever met. and ive met the coolest people through filming this show”, you replied reminiscing on your filming experience.

“amazing. what was your favorite scene to film?”, she asked noticing how you kept looking toward the left, where walker was being interviewed.

“ummmmm”, you said trying to find and answer. you looked over to walker to find a familiar face. you saw the lights hit his face in a way that he looked magical. you could stare at that face forever. he turned his head and looked at you, your cheeks heated up immediately as he waved to you.

“my favorite scene to film was probably a scene in the last episode. i can’t spoil anything but it was definitely my favorite to film, you’ll guys will see soon!!”

“niceeee well we will let you go! you look beautiful tonight Y/N!”

“thank you! you do too!” you replied.

you walked to the left and walked past walker.

“Y/N!” he called out to you, “come here” you walked back over to him and he stretched out his arms to hug you.

“hey Y/N” the interviewer said, “there’s one question i’ve been dying to ask you both”

“hi! what is it?” you said as walker also said “okay, ask away”

“okay, are you guys sure there’s nothing going on backstage with you guys?” he asked.

“oh um”, you said nervously, you didn’t know what to answer, so you let walker,

“no, there’s not. we are best friends tho! but yeah we keep the romance on screen” walker answers while you nodded to his answer.

even though you guys weren’t dating, that hurt for him to say. it shouldn’t, but it does. you felt betrayed. there was really no reason for feeling this way.

“but are you sure you are “just friends”’ he asked again.

“we are sure, i promise”, you answered to give walker a break.

—————

it was a couple days after the premier, you till replayed walker looking at you and hugging you in your mind. you and the younger kids of the cast were hanging out.

“oh my god”, dior said while she was scrolling through her phone.

“what”, you all said in unison.

“i’m gonna send it, y’all have to see this”, she replied.

you picked up your phone and watched the tiktok she sent all of you. it was a tiktok using the clips from the premier shipping you and walker. your cheeks immediately flushed and you looked over at walker. his cheeks grew a light pink and he gave you an upside down smile.

“stop it right now”, aryan said while slightly laughing.

“i mean it’s a good ship”, walker said quietly while shrugging his shoulders.

“i mean yeah it is”, you agreed as you liked the video and saved it.

“i see these all the time, y’all are cute”, dior said while smiling ear to ear.

“they are!!” aryan agreed.

you looked over at walker and noticed how red his cheeks were, yours were too. maybe he did like you all this time….

————————————————————————

thank you for reading! feedback is appreciated!

*i will most likely write a part 2 for this so send in ideas for it!!*

🎀🪩🪞🛋️💌🖇️🥿🐞🌺🌎🫧🥒🫐🍦🥄🎱🩰

[copperbadge]

How did you find the doctor(s) who assessed you for ADHD? Im looking into the process of getting diagnosed because (although ive suspected I might have adhd for years now) I've been struggling a lot more lately and i want to try medication to see if it helps at all. Im trying to search for psychiatrists through my health insurance portal but the the results im getting are all for child/adolescent psychiatry specialists, and I dont think that'll be much help for an adult adhd assessment? Did you have an established therapist to refer you for your assessment or were you able to find a psychiatrist independently?

I actually just kind of had to freeform it, but that does mean I have some tips to share!

I will say, I have never once used a health insurance portal to find someone to treat me for anything. Often their search engine is fucked up and the information is sometimes out of date. I almost always either ask someone who I know has had similar issues if they have a recommendation, ask my treating physician if I have one, or just google until I find someone reputable-looking; any qualified medical center or professional will list what insurance they take anyway, and you can always ask when you make the appointment.

So here's the process for how to do that!

When I was first considering it, I asked a friend who'd had an evaluation that came back not-ADHD, which I liked because it meant we knew it wasn't like, a weird Adderall pill mill or something. I really wanted to have a professional and thorough evaluation because I knew myself and knew I was capable of gaming a questionnaire. The place she had her evaluation was unfortunately having some staffing issues; part of the reason it took me so long is that I played phone tag with them for ages -- I'd call, and regardless of what time of day I called, their scheduler would be "out", so I'd leave a message and never get a call back. Ultimately I said "I really need to talk to a human, because your scheduler has not returned any of my numerous calls" and they said they could transfer me to another office outside of Chicago (in the burbs). That was not going to be accessible to me, so I told them thanks but I'll go somewhere else. Then COVID hit and I was not going to go anywhere near a medical center unless I had to for about two years.

So, when I was making my second serious run at getting evaluated, I did what might be expected of me by longtime readers of this blog: I made a spreadsheet.

I want to caveat this up top with REALLY IMPORTANT CONTEXT: I did not do all of this in a single day. The process from starting research to making an evaluation appointment took about a month, and probably would have taken longer if I wasn't getting somewhat desperate. Do not push yourself to do this as a single act. Research alone is a multi-day process; some days I looked at the open tabs and only entered one tab's worth of information. It took me quite a bit of time to write the form email I sent inquiring about an assessment. It took me time to call the clinic back when they asked me to call to book the appointment. This is a series of steps, not a single leap.

So!

I was looking for a clinic rather than an individual, in part because I'd heard a couple of horror stories about people who went to a psychiatrist and just got argued with for an hour instead of actually getting evaluated. So I googled, and here are some key terms for you, chicago adult adhd assessment. Chicago obviously for the region, but "adult adhd" (putting it in quotes will help) is the important term that will help you filter out a lot of child psych stuff. A lot of what I looked at did included family or child assessment/therapy but were clear that they also evaluated adults.

Then I went through every legit-looking search result and noted down, in my spreadsheet, the name of the clinic/company, the contact phone and email, the URL, the physical location (I needed to be able to get to it fairly easily) and whether they took my insurance. Even if they didn't take my insurance (all but one did) I still put them into the spreadsheet so that if I found them again I could check the sheet and know I didn't need to investigate further. I also tended to bump more legitimate and friendly-looking places to the top of the sheet. And if I were going to do it again I would also look for one specific thing, which is an assessment guide of some kind.

The assessment guide may be something they only give you after you speak with them, so it's not a no-go if they don't have one on their website, but it basically tells you what generally will go on during the assessment, how long it will take, and what you should bring. A full assessment like I had is estimated to take 4-6 hours and they recommended I wear layers so I wouldn't be overly cold/warm in their office, and to bring a snack. That's the kind of information you want, duration of the assessment and what they recommend for you, to ensure that you're working with people who are thorough and care about your comfort.

So, I have this spreadsheet now of places to reach out to, which I know take my insurance and do adult assessment. In the spreadsheet I also had columns for what date I contacted them and whether they'd responded. I started reaching out via email, one per day, with the form email I'd written.

The form email basically said "I'm 42 with no previous diagnosis but I have a family history of autism and dyslexia. I've been told I should get assessed for ADHD, so I'm looking for a clinic that will do the assessment and takes (my insurance). I prefer to be contacted by email but if need be, my phone number is (phone number). Please let me know if you have any open appointments and what information you will need from me to book an evaluation with you." (You can always ask for more information about the actual evaluation process once they respond.)

If I didn't get a response within 24 hours, I moved on to the next, but I only greyed out the text in that line of the spreadsheet; I didn't disqualify/remove the nonresponsive ones because again, I wanted to make sure I kept that information in case they eventually did respond. I did this with about ten clinics, because I figured I must be able to find at least one in ten who could do the eval, and I could go back and research more if necessary.

I think the third or fourth one I reached out to was the first to respond, and I ended up going with them; I had a very positive experience in the assessment itself but it was a real pain in the ass getting the documentation from them -- they took about a month to go through the evaluation data (this is not abnormal but is rather longer than usual according to my psychiatrist) and they gave me an in-person-by-zoom report once it was ready. That said, it took another four months and the threat of reporting them to the state to get them to send me the text of the eval (in part because the evaluator left the clinic unexpectedly with my formal report not yet written). But that's something that's truly impossible to know until you're working with them, and highly unusual, so don't let concerns about that deter you. If you end up in that situation come hit me up and I'll tell you how I dealt with that.

My eval recommended an executive function coach, but if I haven't been able to func it by now I never will, so I thanked them for the recommendation and went looking for a psychiatrist unaffiliated with the clinic to prescribe me meds. There, the key words you're going to be looking for are again "adult adhd" but also "adult disability" and if you want medication that's less likely to be a huge fucking hassle, "medication management". My psychiatrist and I meet every two months to reup my prescription, but he doesn't require me to take a regular drug test or meet him in person in order to get a new scrip, as some people have encountered. We meet in person once or twice a year (I can't remember, it's due to a legal requirement in Illinois) but otherwise it's over zoom.

So yeah -- it's a process, but there are ways to streamline and manage it, and a few tripwires in place to make sure you don't end up screwed by the system. Definitely feel free to ask if you have questions, either here or if you want a more indepth conversation you can email me at copperbadge@gmail.com. GOOD LUCK!

[httpiastri]

sweet 20 – pa17

genre: hmmm kinda fluffy a lil suggestive, idk

pairing: reader x paul aron

warnings: mentions of alcohol.... idk anything else

word count: 1.3k

author's note: hmmmm idk about this one 😭 writer's block has been so bad recently and when i pressure myself to write, it all just gets so bad. idk. also ive had such a long day and i just wanna get this out before the day is over..... and it's only been proofread once 😕 anyway, hbd again paul <3

‎‎ ‎‎ ‎

"where did the birthday boy go?" dino's loud voice meets your ears over the blasting music and you turn to the side, seeing the swede making his way to you. "i almost mistook the two of you for siamese twins, seeing how close you've been all night."

he is right – paul has been pretty much attached to your hip for most of the evening. his hands have been on you at all times, fingers constantly dancing across your skin or along the fabric of your dress. even in a club filled with his friends, with people who would love to spend some time with the birthday boy, he still wouldn't let go of you.

"he needed to use the bathroom," you tell him with a chuckle. "i just barely managed to pry his fingers off me so he could leave me here, i didn't really feel like being pulled along."

dino laughs. "good call. the bathrooms here are pretty nasty..."

"yeah, i've seen the women's bathrooms, so i can imagine what the men's is like." he gives you an acknowledging nod. silence falls over the two of you for a moment as he just sips his drink, but then you speak up. "hey, good job at planning this all. paul was really surprised-"

"what was i surprised about?" paul's voice echoes from behind you, and just as you're about to turn to look at him, you feel two strong arms wrap around you, keeping you in place. "hm?"

"this surprise party," you tell him. "you really had no idea, did you?"

"no idea." he rests his chin on top of your shoulder, leaning his head on yours slightly. his voice grows quieter. "i missed you, you know."

"you missed me? when, now?" paul nods against your shoulder, and you look to dino with a grimace. he answers with a shake of his head, rolling his eyes at his best friend. "you left to go to the bathroom about two minutes ago."

paul hums. "but i still missed you."

you've almost never seen him this clingy. it's only when he gets a couple of drinks down that he's like this – and tonight, he's definitely had more than his share of the open bar. the strong smell oozing from him signals that the hangover will be bad. hopefully, it's worth it.

"i'm going to go find gabriele," dino says to excuse himself, disappearing in just a second.

you turn around in paul's arms, a smile creeping onto your lips when you see the very hazy expression on his face. "hi there," you say, pressing a quick kiss to his nose.

"hi there."

you pause for a second, but then you get an idea. you move your hands to wrap around his forearms. "i want to dance."

he shakes his head instantly. "you've seen me dance before, no way am i embarrassing myself in front of all these people."

"come on," you groan, pulling yourself out of his embrace to take his hands in yours. "it's your birthday, so you have to dance." he's about to interject, so you cut him off, beginning to back towards the dance floor. "i'm not taking no for an answer."

his mouth opens as if he has something to say back, but then he closes it, thinking better of it. he allows you to pull you with him, and the music envelops you the moment you step onto the dance floor. you can feel the bass inside your bones, and the lights overhead flash in an array of colors, casting a vibrant glow over the crowd. paul follows you reluctantly, his expression a mix of hesitance and amusement. after all, a gorgeous woman is dragging him with her to dance with him. how can he not be at least a little intrigued?

the atmosphere out there is contagious, and you can't help but caught up in the energy. moving with the flow of the crowd underneath the lights feels so natural to you – but paul isn't the same. he loves partying, sure, but the dancing itself...

he doesn't even notice his own lack of energy before you reach up to give his face a playful slap. "hey, ease up."

his eyebrows rise. "lead me, then..."

you can't help but let out a giggle at the request; underneath this tough, firm exterior hides a soft, sweet guy who's so insecure about his dancing that he freezes like this. of course, you help him out – it's your duty as his girlfriend, you think – and you place your hands on his shoulders. "grab my hips," you tell him. "and relax a little. this can't be any worse than driving your racing cars."

"it sure feels like it."

you shake your head. "now, just... move."

and that's what he does. you're not sure if it's because of the alcohol, or because his favorite the weeknd song is blasting from the speakers, but he's moving much more smoothly than he usually is.

or maybe it's your sweet smile that's encouraging him to keep on going.

as the song progresses, and then melts into another, paul seems to let go more and more. he actually dances surprisingly well – at one point, he even spins you, and you can't help but laugh at the unexpected skill.

the way that his hands move up and down your sides, sometimes slipping behind you to give your butt a quick squeeze, combined with the intoxicating scent of his cologne, makes your heart flutter even further. it seems to have an effect on paul too, because he pulls you closer to him. your eyes meet his, and for a moment, it feels like the world slows down. the desire in his gaze is unmistakable, and the intensity of the connection between the two of you is easily noticeable to anyone within a mile's radius.

he leans forward, lips grazing your ear as he whispers to you. "let's get out of here."

you lean back with a frown on your face, looking at him like he's crazy. "this is your party. all of your friends are here-"

"fuck my friends, i don't care about them." you slap his shoulder playfully, a gasp passing through your lips. "all i want is you."

"you're insatiable, you know that?"

he shrugs. "what can i say? you're irresistible."

you shake your head. now it's your turn to lean forward and whisper into his ear. "later," you start, giving his cheek a little kiss. "patience, my dear."

he groans. "i can't be patient. i think you know that by now."

"too bad. you haven't even had any cake yet." you grin. "or opened your presents."

"i only know of one gift that i want to unwrap..." he says, fingers reaching traveling lower on your dress and eventually reaching the hem, giving it a slight tug.

yet another giggle slips past your lips, but then you catch a glimpse of something behind him – and your gaze is different when you look back at him. you lean in closer, pressing your body up against his as your arms wrap around his neck, pulling his face closer to yours. your lips brush against him once, ever so slightly, and his breath hitches in his throat. is she actually about to give in?

"sorry to disappoint, but..."

timing has never really been on paul's side; he's always been unlucky in that way. even on his own birthday, things don't seem to work out for him – because just as he thinks he's getting somewhere, you suddenly pull away. his confusion only grows when the music is shut off and replaced with the sound of the entire club singing the birthday song. you point behind him, and he turns around to see a few of his friends carrying a big birthday cake, twenty lit candles perched on top of it.

"happy birthday," you whisper, and he shakes his head when he looks back at the teasing grin stretched across your lips.

"you're killing me. you know that, right?"

[exitpursuedbyavulcan]

Studious IV (Aemond Targaryen x Reader) 18+

You continue reading Aemond's diary. As his true feelings for you become ever more clear, can you decipher your own feelings for him?

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader (second person, no use of Y/N)

Warnings: Aemond in his smut writer era (semi-public sex, p in v sex, tiddy suckin', riding, fingering, oral sex f receiving, bad sex)

Author's Note: So sorry for the delay! But this baby is 11K words, so hopefully that makes up for it! Also, I tried for a long time to format this like the others, but tumblr wouldn't let me post it if I did, so the formatting is a little different here.

Read Part I Here - Read Part II Here - Read Part III Here

My Masterlist

Taglist will be done via reblogs (there are simply too many of you to fit here)

Studious IV

You were never setting foot in the library again.

Not after what you just read. Not when you were sure that the mere memory of it would have you bursting into flames the moment you crossed the threshold.

Good gods, only a few entries ago, Aemond could hardly bring himself to write the word ‘cunt,’ and now this? What in the Seven Hells were his advisors – Grand Maester Orwyle, Lord Jasper Wylde, and Prince Aegon – teaching him?

You weren’t sure whether the odd feeling in your stomach was due to how much you ate – an entire meat pie and five tea cakes, all washed down with a pot and a half of raspberry tea – or what you had just read.

Either way, it was not enough to stop you from glancing about your bedchamber to ensure no one was watching you and then rereading the entry from the beginning.

The 16th day in the 5th moon of the year.

I have just returned from the library. Grand Maester Orwyle suggested that I consult a book on anatomy. Since there was no business of court I was required to attend today, I asked one of the librarians to help me retrieve the title after I finished my training.

I also found a few books Aegon recommended, only after I dismissed the librarian – I did not want him to know that I took those. Or that I even knew what they were. Gossip abounds in the capital, and I do not wish to be the subject of more than I already am.

By the titles alone, I am surprised Mother allows them to remain in the Keep. I likely will not read most of them. Aegon has already traumatised me quite thoroughly. I see no reason to allow him to ruin reading for me, as well. Although one title, ‘A Caution for Young Girls,’ seems innocent enough.

But the books are not why I am writing now, when my usual routine is to write immediately before I retire to bed. I just… I need to commit this to paper before it leaves me entirely.

On my way out of the library, I saw her. My wife – if I die tomorrow or in a hundred years, I shall never tire of calling her that.

She has quickly found the more private areas of the library, it seems. I would never have seen her if I had not been considering going there to read myself.

It must mean something that she did not choose just any of the countless hidden places within the maze of the library, but my favourite – a secluded alcove along the western wall. An indicator of our compatibility, perhaps. Or even a sign from the gods?

Had the books I’d been carrying not been so… unsuitable, I would have asked to join her.

No, I wouldn’t have. That would require far more courage than I can summon when I see her.

I just stared at her, watching her face as she read. From where I stood, I could not see what she was reading. But I could see her, and that was enough.

She is so expressive! I saw her both smile and frown in quick succession, and once, her entire face scrunched in displeasure as if she had just taken a bite of lemon! Gods, how can even such an unpleasant expression be so beautiful?

Perhaps I should not have watched her at all, for the longer I stood there, the further my mind drifted. And then, I heard Aegon’s voice, as clearly as if he were standing beside me.

‘Don’t limit yourself to the bedchamber brother, or even the bed! A wall or a table serves just as well. And there is a certain thrill to knowing you could be discovered…’

Damn him. Why did I ever ask for his assistance? I would have been better off enlisting the help of an actual whore! At least then, the vulgarity would not come from the future King. Damn him to the deepest of the Seven Hells.

But that stupid advice echoed in my mind over and over. And against my will and better judgement, an image began to form. A dream – a waking dream.

Though my feet remained planted on the floor, I imagined setting aside my books and joining her in that alcove. She would look up and smile upon hearing my approach, perhaps even giggle at my attempt at stealth.

I would sit beside her and ask what she was reading. I might even ask her to read to me. But I would not let her read for long.

I would kiss her while she read. Not on her lips but all over her perfect face. Her cheeks, her forehead, on the tip of her nose. All just to distract her, to make her laugh. Only when she made so much noise that I feared discovery would I kiss her lips to quiet her and finally claim my prize.

The kiss would not be like in the Sept, or in her chambers that night. Instead, she would kiss me back and open herself to me. I would kiss her, and kiss her, and kiss her. Until we were both out of breath but still wanting more.

Seeing her like that, with her lips swollen and cheeks flushed… I would not be able to wait until we returned to our chambers. I would lift her onto that very table, books be damned.

Like our wedding night, we would not undress. We would be in too much of a hurry.

But even hurried, I would be gentle. I would take the time to prepare her, as Lord Wylde said I must do every time. Doing so makes the experience more pleasurable for the woman, he says. And Orwyle added that her enjoyment makes it more likely that the coupling will be fruitful.

Gods, I hardly care about that anymore. Of course, I want an heir, or several. But I want her more. I want her to feel as much pleasure as I do. To ‘peak,’ as Wylde and Orwyle put it. Aegon uses other words, but I find them too vulgar.

And in the library, making an heir would be the last thing on my mind. Even finding my own pleasure would be secondary. I would use my fingers to prepare her – perhaps get her to peak once before I even enter her?

Aegon says women can find release much more than men can. According to him, he once made a woman peak ten times in one night. I would be more amenable to believing him if he didn’t also claim he did so five times. But maybe he is right about ‘practising’ increasing stamina. Though he has had years of practice, and I have had only two days…

But in the dream world where I have the courage to approach her at all, and the gall to bed her in the library of all places (can you call it ‘bedding’ if it is not done in an actual bed?), I also have that stamina. And the skill to indeed make her peak with just my fingers.

I do not know what sounds she would make, as she was entirely silent on our wedding night, but I would want her to make them. I would want her to make such noise that I would have no choice but to kiss her to quiet her and keep her from drawing the attention of the rest of the library.

Even when I was buried within her, I would kiss her. With one arm wrapped around her hips to hold her steady as I fucked her so hard the table would shake, and the other hand tangled in her hair so I could kiss her just as hard.

I want to kiss her so badly. When I finally go to her again, that is what I will do first.

Once we had both finished – for I would ensure she peaked again with me inside her – I would kiss her more, softly, until our breathing steadied. Then, we would simply take our seats again, and this time, I would read to her.

By all the Seven, what has become of me? To not only have such thoughts but to revel in them as I do?

You didn’t bother reading the rest of the entry again before clutching the diary to your chest and staring at the bed canopy above you as a thousand questions burned through your mind and set your heart racing.

Had he been thinking about that the day he came to you in the library?

Was it what he intended to do, had you not reacted so poorly to his words?

Were you really wishing that he had?

You turned on your side, cradling his diary as you once did a small stuffed pony, and noticed for the first time that night had fallen – you had spent nearly the entire day reading. For a moment, you considered running to Aemond’s chambers. But when you looked back at the journal, there were still more than a dozen ribbons shut in its pages.

And if you went to him just after reading what you did…

Whatever was becoming of Aemond, no doubt thanks to the men he had asked for help in better bedding you, by reading his diary and the most private thoughts and fantasies contained within, it was becoming of you too. For when your eyes drifted closed, Aemond’s dream of the library became your dream as well.

-

The next several days of entries were almost identical.

Aemond woke at dawn after a night of dreams filled with you. They were not always of a carnal nature. Sometimes he dreamed simply of holding or kissing you. Once, he dreamed about flying with you atop his dragon. You didn’t know whether the prospect was thrilling or terrifying. Perhaps both.

Each day, he broke his fast, trained, then ate a small meal before joining court.

Before joining you.

When he wrote in the diary after dinner and several hours of studying and ‘practising’ (you still could not determine what that meant), he still remembered every little thing you did. You had never spoken at court – it was not your place to. But he had catalogued your every movement and reaction to the business of the realm. Every raise of your brows, every repressed smile, and every curious tilt of your head.

You thought you were quite proficient at maintaining a regal mask of indifference. Your mother had you practice it on the journey to King’s Landing while she commanded your brothers to shout at you the most outrageous things they could think of (much of which she promptly scolded them for when they were done).

But Aemond saw through the mask. Not only that, but he correctly interpreted every movement you made.

He knew that the twitch of your lip when Lord Bolton made a petition was a sign of your marked distaste for the man. He knew the scrunch of your brow upon the reading of a missive from a Pentosi diplomat was you noticing a contradiction from the previous message and realising the diplomat was lying. And he knew that you stiffened every time he looked at you because you were nervous about what he would say or do.

Aemond knew you. Even then.

And yet you had so dreadfully misunderstood him.

The shame of it was enough to make you set down the diary and call for a bath – a private bath, without any of your maids present even in the adjourning rooms. You gave an excuse that you were exhausted and simply wished to remain alone.

But really?

As part of his study of the anatomy book Orwyle recommended, Aemond had drawn a diagram of what lay between a woman’s legs. And annotated it based on the advice of Lord Wylde and Prince Aegon.

You were curious to see – with the aid of a hand mirror – just how accurate the diagram and annotations were.

-

You awoke the following morning feeling more refreshed than you had since you came to the palace, from both the welcome break in your courtly duties and the exploration you had conducted in the privacy of your bath. Though you were fairly sure you did not reach a ‘peak,’ as Aemond described it, you felt close to the height of something several times. But each time, you panicked at the intensity of the racing feelings within you and withdrew your hand. Still, those few minutes of pleasure were incredibly relaxing.

And as it was Aemond’s notes that allowed you to discover the feeling that your own clumsy attempts had failed to bring, the prospect that you would – eventually – once more join him in his bed became thrilling beyond reason.

In truth, the only thing that stopped you from rushing across the castle the very moment you emerged from the bath was the unfortunate fact that you were still bleeding, though it was light.

More than that, while your body was more than ready to forgive Aemond, your heart and mind were still hesitant. He had hurt you. He made you cry. Reading his diary helped you understand that it had never been intentional. However, you still needed to understand everything before making a final decision on whether to forgive him and if you could, as Aemond hoped in his note, ‘learn to like’ or even to love him.

So, after breaking your fast, you again settled into the couch and turned to the next green ribbon.

The 23rd day in the 5th moon of the year

Were Aegon not my brother and the heir, I would throw him from the top of the Rookery.

‘A Caution for Young Girls’ is no such thing. It is little more than a manual in promiscuity and sin!

But… damn him. It is quite educational.

Unlike the book Grand Maester Orwyle suggested, it is not focused on the science of anatomy or conception. Rather, it is entirely concerned with the pleasure of women. After all, it is the supposedly true story of a woman’s quest for pleasure.

A Wylde woman, if it is to be believed. I may have to ask Lord Jasper about it. Is this why he’s had such success with his own wives?

But that, and indeed the sinful nature of the book itself, is unimportant. What is important is that it may actually be the key to my learning how to pleasure my wife.

It spoke at length of various methods of using one’s fingers. Crooking the fingers while within seems to be crucial, as is locating a ‘sweet spot’ where her walls feel slightly different. That spot, as well as the ‘pearl’ which lays at the top of her sex, is the epicentre of her pleasure.

And, like the others said, preparation is required. This is where the use of the fingers comes into it – as well as various other methods. For example, the book mentions kissing quite often, and not only on the lips. Or the cheeks. Or even anywhere on the face.

I admit the idea, though it is new to me, is quite appealing. The book mentioned several places where women most like to be kissed. The jaw, the throat, behind the ear, the nape of the neck, the collarbone…

There was a spot of ink, as though Aemond’s pen had been resting on the page without moving for a long moment.

…the breasts, and lower.

I do not understand why. Perhaps it is because of Aegon’s incessant comments about the breasts of every woman in the Keep, save our mother and his wife – would that he would also exclude my wife! – but I find myself thinking about her breasts with startling frequency. I did not get to see them on our wedding night after I foolishly forgot to undress her.

There is a story in the book which… well, I find myself wanting to replicate. One which would provide me ample access to her breasts. But more than that, it carries an intimacy which I crave most of all.

When Lady Coryanne was serving as a handmaid to a warlock in Qarth, she often found herself called to help him ‘relax’ after a long day. On such occasions, she would mount him while he sat at his desk and ‘ride’ him while he buried his face in her breasts.

I… it was easy to imagine my wife and me in a similar, though more loving, position. Likely not at my desk, as I don’t actually use it often. But perhaps, here. On my chair by the hearth, where I read my books and write in this diary before bed.

She would come back – for she would be living here, with me, not across the Holdfast and so far away – after a long day. Maybe she would have been in the gardens, or with Mother, Helaena and the children, or in the library for hours. I would have been stuck away from her all day in meetings, court, or training.

Even apart from her for only a day, I would miss her terribly. As I do every hour I do not see her. And she would miss me too.

When she came in, she would press herself against the door as she locked it, then turn to me with a mischievous grin. I would know what she wanted, but I would not play along. Instead, I’d mutter a greeting and turn back to my book, pretending that my blood was not racing at just the sight of her. For I want her blood to be as heated as mine.

You read the last paragraph again, the realisation finally set in that Aemond was about to narrate another of his fantasies. Fortunately, after his previous entry about the library, you decided to be more cautious and had already dismissed your servants until your afternoon meal. You had suspected that there may be more in the diary that was thoroughly unsuitable for prying eyes.

And, thanks to his diligent notetaking, you knew precisely what to do when the feelings such unsuitable words provoked began to burn through you.

You undoubtedly did not want an audience for that…

I would let her tease me, pretending none of it fazed me. When she brushed her fingers lightly across my shoulders, I would not flinch. When she leaned over me further than she would really need to see what I was reading, but wanting me to see that peek of her breasts nearly spilling out from her dress, I would barely look. And when she pressed a kiss, long and slow, to my neck – gods, would I like that too? – I might even pretend it was an inconvenience.

It would vex her that I did not give her the attention she desperately wanted. Not enough to truly anger her, but only enough to make her pout. So that when she took the book from my hands and dropped it to the floor, then sat atop me in the chair with her thighs straddling mine… I would simply have no choice but to grab her little lip as she stuck it out and push it back into place before kissing her.

I would kiss her in every place the book instructs, taking my time to worship every bit of her. I want to drive her as mad as she does me just by her mere existence.

But I know she would not simply let me tease her. She would return each kiss I gave her and more. Atop me, she would roll her hips slowly, purposefully, as if we were engaged in a dance. I would be able to feel her, hot and wet and as eager as me, but each time I rose to meet her, she would pull away.

Gods, am I really wishing for her to deny me? Perhaps practising as Aegon instructed has conditioned me to crave such delays to my satisfaction.

Either way, I think I would break before she did. She is strong-willed, and with as many brothers as she has, I believe she can be quite patient. So, I would beg. I would apologise for trying to tease her and plead for her forgiveness. And for her to…

She would, I hope, without hesitation. She would rise only long enough for her to remove her smallclothes and for me to do away with my trousers. Then, we would both sit again, together, with me gently guiding her down to mount me – Seven Hells, that makes it sound like I’m a horse.

I’ll be whatever she wants.

Again, and as always, I would give her a moment to adjust and make sure she is comfortable. Orwyle’s book said that with well-endowed partners – which, according to the measurements in the book, I am – women may always need that moment.

But I would be glad to give it to her. For it would allow me to unlace her bodice, and like the warlock from the book, I could bury my face in my beloved’s breasts.

I find it hard to imagine what it would be like, how they would feel. Soft, I think. Warm, as she is. And perhaps, if I pressed close enough, I could hear her heart beating.

When I was fully settled within her, would I hear it beat faster? Or would it slow with contentment, knowing she was safe and loved – oh so dearly loved – within my arms. Perhaps it would be like the stories, and I would hear it skip a beat.

Either way, I would be more than content to just sit there, breathe her in, and let her move at her own pace. We would not need to be fast, as we would in the library. In my own rooms – our rooms – there would be no need for hurry. We could just stay there, entwined, or we could move together.

I think I would prefer it slowly. Not even seeking our releases, really. Just… enjoying each other. Enjoying the connection of our bodies, our minds, and our souls. Knowing that we are one, that the gods have made us one, and that nothing can tear us apart.

Although… I do think her legs would get tired after a while. That is something I should perhaps be worried about. Especially if she did want to move, and fast. To seek release.

If she did, I would help her. The book did not detail how, as Lady Coryanne was a servant at the time, but… I could figure it out. I could move my hips up to meet hers, or even lift her on my own? I think doing so with my hands on her hips would give me the most leverage. Or perhaps her rear?

I am very drawn to the idea of holding her close as we reach our peaks. Of feeling her breath on my skin, being close enough to hear each little noise she makes, and the sensation of her gripping me as tight as she can as she comes. Even the thought of her nails digging into me brings a certain thrill. And if I don’t reach my peak with her – which, I think, is very unlikely – we can always continue. Or move somewhere more comfortable if her legs do get tired.

At this point, I think I am more than ready to practice. Of course, this wasn’t my intention when I started writing, but… yes, I am most definitely ready. And anything else I wanted to write about seems inconsequential now.

You dropped the diary onto your heaving chest, the image Aemond’s words had painted still burning in your mind. Seven Hells, you could practically feel his strong arms wrapped around you, holding you to his chest as you moved together, his breath hot against your neck as he whispered words of praise between desperate kisses.

With a hazy smile, you snuggled further into the couch and beneath your blanket. As exhilarating as the descriptions of his desires were, what truly warmed your heart was the way he wrote about you, the two of you together.

The connection of your souls as one? It was exactly what you’d dreamed of when first told of your betrothal. Aemond was what you dreamed of.

Why did he have to stop writing? What in the name of the Seven was he practising that was more important than that?

Frustrated and with your pleasure now truly over, you closed the diary and turned on your side, resigned to simply stewing in your own thoughts for the few hours left until your maids returned.

-

After a light, solitary afternoon meal, you again dismissed your maids. By this point, they were more than a little suspicious about the titleless book you were reading. But, you insisted that you simply wanted to be alone, for your moon’s blood still plagued you. It wasn’t entirely a lie. You did still have some cramping and a slight headache.

In truth, it was because you knew what would happen in just a few entries – your second night together.

It surely wouldn’t be as thrilling as some of his other fantasies. You knew that firsthand. But after learning what Aemond felt for you, you were desperate to know his side of that night.

So desperate, in fact, that you barely skimmed the following two entries in your haste to reach it. Both primarily had to do with whatever smut he had read in A Caution for Young Girls. The first was a rather exhaustive list of all the ways he wanted to kiss you – and there were far more ways than you were previously aware of.

The second caused your most intense blushing yet, for it was near treasonous! After reading another story of Coryanne Wylde ‘riding’ a man, he fantasised about you riding him while he sat on the Iron Throne. It was an intriguing idea, but it seemed a little too hazardous to tempt you.

Finally, you reached what you had been waiting for.

The 26th day in the 5th moon of the year.

I had hoped not to make an entry today – for I had every intention of spending tonight in my wife’s chambers. But she is there, and tragically, I am here.

Tonight was almost worse than our wedding night.

When I saw her watching me in the training yard today, I thought… she was almost smiling – at me! She had no obligation to be there, and yet she was! She sought me out! She wanted to see me!

I had to bite back a cry of joy and relief. I immediately abandoned the rest of my training, nearly impaling the poor squire with my sword for how hard I threw it at him, so I could rush to the ramparts and greet her.

But when I got there, she was gone. I asked a few of the other lords and ladies that were there, but no one knew where she went. Even after speaking to her, however briefly, I still do not understand why she left.

You felt your cheeks flush with shame. Aemond hadn’t grimaced at you that day – quite the opposite. He had been so excited to see you there, and as usual, you had misinterpreted his reaction.

Or, based on how frequently these misunderstandings occurred, perhaps his expressions were merely indecipherable to normal people. Or, more likely, maybe just to you.

You set his diary down, careful to use one of your discarded ribbons to mark your place, and picked up your own. By this point, you had filled several pages with your reactions to Aemond’s writing – some of it sincere, some bordering on humour.

Yet you had no words to express how sorry you were that you had so thoroughly misjudged him. So you wrote nothing and just kept reading.

When I went to her chambers to check on her, I encountered one of her maids, who told me she had retired early with a headache and would not be joining the family for dinner.

Perhaps I should have gone into her chambers then and asked what was wrong. I knew – or at least suspected – that the headache was a lie. An excuse to allow her privacy. I often do the same, citing my scar. Which, as I told her, is not always a lie.

But if I had gone to her, as I wished. I would not have known what to say. Ask her why she ran from the training yard without speaking to me? Or why she wanted to avoid me and the family? Tell her I’m sorry for the disappointment of our wedding night? Ask Beg for a second chance?

I could not do it. I was tired from training and admittedly still somewhat discombobulated from realising she had been watching me. Though I did make it to her door, I merely touched the handle for a moment before retiring to my own chambers.

Now, after yet another disastrous visit… I should have gone to her earlier. I should have trusted my instincts (as Aegon often encourages me to do) instead of allowing my mind to think itself into an inescapable hole.

As I bathed and redressed, and even while attending court and dinner, I could not stop thinking about her. Agonising over what I may have done to make her flee from me?

I never even considered that she may actually have a headache until I was again at her door after dinner. The fear that I was disturbing her, perhaps making her pain worse, was nearly enough to make me turn and flee.

But then, her voice came, soft and light and so enticing. Of course, I somehow managed to answer idiotically when she asked who it was. Though she lessened the sting of embarrassment with a small joke. She is so achingly clever!

I asked her how she was, and her answer made it evident that the headache was a ruse. I am trying not to be too proud that my deduction was correct. She is not used to lying, nor is she good at it. And it is yet another thing I admire about her.

For hours, I planned what I would say to her. It was eloquent and thoughtful – practically poetry.   

The tail of the last ‘y’ extended nearly an inch, and you imagined Aemond just staring at the page, consumed by his thoughts for a moment.

But her room looked different tonight. She finally unpacked.

There is a large tapestry above her hearth depicting her home keep, the field below filled with vibrant pink flowers with bright yellow centres. The same flowers appear nearly everywhere. On framed examples of embroidery, on her curtains, pillows, and even the blanket strewn over the back of her couch.

I must find out what they are, for they are clearly very important to her.

You looked up from the diary, glancing about your room. Indeed, you had not realised how many dog roses decorated your possessions. It was no wonder he guessed they were your favourite.

‘I was quite impressed when you brought me my favourite flower,’ you wrote in your diary. ‘I thought you had somehow read my thoughts. I suppose I made it easy for you.’

She also has a large bookcase in her sitting room, which was specifically requested when her father sent word accepting the betrothal. Since the last time I was in her chambers, she has begun to fill the shelves with books and trinkets. I spotted a small silver bell, a wooden box carved with various birds, and a little glass flower. It was not the same flower that is so prevalent elsewhere in her chambers (this one was a pale purple rather than pink), but still quite pretty.

While pondering that flower, I returned to the couch to compare it to the pink flower on her blanket and saw what she had been reading – “The Last Dragonlords,” my first, and still favourite, history of my house. It is not a particularly rigorous academic work, but I prefer it for the sense of wonder it has for the story of my ancestors.

If, at that point, I remembered any of what I wanted to say to her, the sight of that book, and the knowledge that she was somehow reading my favourite… I lost all words. I fear I fell silent for an uncomfortably long time, for she spoke next.

She wanted to know the reason for my visit. I asked her directly about the ruse of her headache. She seemed nervous, so I told her I do the same and that I often experience lingering pain. I was tempted to remove my patch and show her, but… she was already quite nervous. I did not want to make her more so, or frighten her so thoroughly that she will never warm to me.

What lay beneath his eyepatch that would frighten you so? You had heard many rumours. That his lost eye was nothing more than a pit of darkness. That he had replaced it with a jewel. That an ever-burning fire, fueled by his hatred and rage, burned within.

Despite the stories, you felt a twinge of shame and hurt that, despite his love for you, he did not trust you with seeing him truly bare. He thought you could be frightened away.

Somehow, that shame far overshadowed any curiosity or fear about what lay beneath the brown leather of his eyepatch.

I could already tell it wasn’t going to go how I wanted – she would not meet my eye. So, I offered to leave. I would not impose myself on her when she did not want me to. That is not how I want to start this. Or, start it again.

But she did want me to go! At least, that is what I thought she meant. I am not so sure anymore. She said something about my right to be there as her husband. At the time, I thought it was her shy way of asking me to stay. Now… I think she may have just been repeating something her mother or a Septa taught her.

There was another small patch of angry scribbles.

I’m so stupid! And hardly better than Aegon. No – she may not have been particularly enthusiastic, but I am sure if she genuinely did not want me there, she would have said so. And I would have obeyed. After all, she was quick to ask me to stop some of the other things I tried to do.

She did not like the kissing.

When I first mentioned that I would like to lie with her – which I foolishly reasoned was out of my desire for an heir instead of my desire for her – she simply laid on the bed like on our wedding night. But that is not what I want. I do not want this to simply be a union of duty! At least, not anymore. And I so wanted to kiss her.

So, I beckoned her to me, and she obeyed. My hopes that this would be different were still relatively high. I got closer, touched her face, and asked if I could kiss her.

And she asked, ‘Why?’

I swear that one little word hurt more than any pain I’ve felt in the training yard. Almost more than… well, not quite more than that. But close.

I could not think of any reason other than that she is my wife, and I love her and want more than anything to kiss her. I only told her the former and the latter, for I think if I told her I loved her, she would have been more afraid than if she had seen me without my patch. And the gods must be good, for she said yes.

Then I kissed her. I held her close, and I kissed her.

It was the most wonderful thing! She was soft and warm. And when I laced my hand through her hair, she made the most delightful sound! I could have just kissed her forever.

But then it was over. She shouted and pushed me away. It was… it was just after I tried to use my tongue. I don’t think she liked it.

She asked me why I ‘needed’ to kiss her. She must have disliked it very much.

I had no other explanation than what I had already offered. At least, none that I could tell her without sending her running from me forever. So I stopped and told her I did not need it – the first lie I’ve ever told her.

When she moved back to the bed, I could not help myself. I could not let us be in a marriage where we lie together out of nothing more than duty, fully clothed and anxious to get it over with. It was foolish, and I probably scared her with the request, but I asked her to remove her nightgown. She had already taken off her robe – a massive thing in her house colours that practically drowns her.

You allowed a brief kernel of anger to spark within you, enough for you to pick up your pen and write him another little message in your diary.

‘That robe is dear to me, thank you very much. What is it that makes you hate it so?’

There is nothing more beautiful in the world than her. She puts even the Maiden to shame. I would have been happy to stare at her, to take in that beauty until I had my fill – if I would ever get my fill.

She got on the bed and positioned herself exactly how she was on our wedding night. Not quite how I pictured it, but considering her hesitancy, I did not want to push her.

It took all my control to stop myself from kissing her again when I undressed and joined her. But I did. I also resisted doing anything more than just looking at her breasts.

I sat between her legs and stared at her. While I was more than ready to begin, she was not. At all. Of course, I knew I would have to prepare her, but I hoped she would have had at least some desire for me already.

I started with gentle touches, drawing circles on her thighs. She shivered a bit when I began, but she didn’t ask me to stop. From where I was sitting, I could tell she enjoyed it, even if she didn’t understand it. She did ask me to explain, and my answer was probably lacking – how does one explain why he was so inadequate? – but she gave a small nod when I promised that tonight would be better.

Then I finally touched her where I really wanted to and was delighted to find her… well, not as wet as I’d hoped, but it was an improvement upon our wedding night! I ran my fingers over her entrance, hoping to coax more wetness from her before I truly began. And when I looked at her again to ensure I wasn’t hurting her, she smiled at me!

Encouraged, I kept my fingers at her entrance, not venturing inside yet, but continuing my preparations there while I began to seek her pearl. As the books said, I only had to draw a straight line upward from her entrance to find it.

And, oh, when I found it! Her eyes snapped shut, her back arched off the bed, and the most glorious whine escaped her! It was everything I had imagined and more. Gods, I think I could have peaked just from watching her as I circled her pearl again and again, faster and faster.

But then, she asked me to stop – begged me to.

I thought I must have done something wrong, but she shook her head when I asked if it hurt. And when I asked if it felt good, she would not answer. She merely requested that I get on with what I needed to do and leave, for she was tired. This wound cut even deeper than before with the kissing.

I wanted to prepare her more – I was going to use my mouth on her. To show her how dearly I wish to please her, how much I want to worship and love her, if only she’d let me.

In anticipation of that act, I have been consulting Coryanne Wylde’s various accounts and expert critiques of the act in order to form the perfect strategy.

To begin, I would undress her, as I planned to do on our wedding night, laying gentle, nearly chaste kisses on each new bit of skin I revealed. Once she was bare, I would kiss her. Deeply. To give her a taste of what is to come. Then, I would kiss my way down. Her jaw, her throat, her collarbone, her breasts, and the plane of her stomach.

Once I made it past her navel, I would take her leg in my hand and begin a new trail of kisses upwards. The book says to start at the ankle, but I am too impatient for that – I will begin at the knee instead.

Just when she thought I was finally about to give her what she craved more than anything, I would once again change course to kiss her lips one final time. Then, I would descend.

I would start slowly, experimenting with different tactics to determine what drives her deliciously mad. Once I knew, I would feast. I would devour her like her pleasure was the air I needed to breathe. Like her cries of pleasure were beautiful music, and I would die if it ever stopped.

I would bring her to peak once with my mouth on her entrance. Again on her pearl. Then again and again in whichever way made her scream the loudest.

Only when she was so drunk with pleasure that she could no longer rise to meet my mouth or grasp at my hair would I relent. I would make my way back up to her mouth and soothe her with gentle kisses until she had regained herself and was begging for me to finally fuck her.

But I didn’t get to do any of that.

She asked me to stop, so I did. I pumped myself a little to ensure the disappointment hadn’t rendered me incapable of performing my duty and entered her.

The preparation did help. Entering her was easier, and she did not wince as much as the first time. And she felt even more heavenly somehow. The feeling was so intense that I had to take a moment to remind myself that she only wanted me to finish quickly so she would not have to endure me any longer.

So, I fucked her. I did not make love to her, as is my true desire. I just fucked her, like she was just any woman and not the love of my life.

And then, a miracle! I thrust into her, something about the angle allowing me in quite deep, and she reacted. She gasped, breathless, and her hips snapped up to meet mine. I froze in surprise and elation. I found her ‘sweet spot!’

But when I smiled at her, she turned away and refused to look at me again.

I just kept going. I did not try to hit that spot again, so as to not upset her further. I finished as quickly as I could and left the bed.

It was stupid of me, but I turned back to her after dressing. Everything had gone so horribly, but I still love her. I still need her. So I could not just leave her like that.

I asked if I could kiss her again. She let me. I was quick, as promised.

Then I came back here, once again alone and no closer to earning her love than I was before.

I must meet with my advisors again tomorrow. Perhaps they can help me understand why I keep fucking this up so badly when all I want is for her to let me love her the way I want to and for her to love me in return.

Your heart ached so severely that you thought there might be bruises when you looked down at your chest. But there was just skin – skin that Aemond would have happily kissed, had you let him.

As horrible and confusing as that night had been for you, it had been so tenfold for Aemond. He had wanted a grand, romantic evening, and you had greeted him with only coldness and suspicion.

He called you ‘the love of his life.’ You ran your finger over those words so many times that they became smudged, then went to write something in your diary but halted with your pen hovering over the paper.

What could you write to match what he’d said about you? Even if you could, would it really be true? How many times could you say, ‘I’m sorry?’

Well, at least one more time. ‘I’m so sorry, Aemond,’ you wrote, ‘I didn’t know, and I was still scared. Not of you, but of what I thought my life was to be. If you had only told me… I do not blame you, I swear. I just wish the both of us had been more honest with each other.’

You were far too exhausted to continue. It was not yet midafternoon, and you had already been from the near-heights of carnal pleasure to the depths of your despair that the unfortunate state of your marriage was, in actuality, mostly your fault.

So, after setting Aemond’s diary aside, you picked up your embroidery basket and began to work while your mind wandered.

It was only when your maids arrived to bring you dinner that you realised that, somehow, the dog roses you intended to make had become a sprawling wisteria vine.

-

You dreamed of the castle garden in late spring when all the flowers were in bloom. As you walked down the garden path, you saw every colour imaginable amongst the vibrant greens. But there was only one flower you really wanted to see – and the man you knew would be waiting for you beneath them.

Just as the first purple tendrils came into view, the dream faded, and you woke to see the first hints of dawn still beneath the horizon.

Drawing your blankets over your head, you squeezed your eyes shut and stubbornly tried to fall back asleep and return to your dream – to no avail. You were well and truly awake. And it would be some time before your maids came to dress you for the day.

So, dragging the blanket from your bed with you, you trudged back into your solar and settled into the couch before picking up Aemond’s diary again.

The 27th day in the 5th moon of the year

I met with Lord Wylde, Grand Maester Orwyle, and Aegon this morning. They had advice, but it was not as… straightforward as I had hoped. There is no simple trick to get her to love me. Nothing I can study from a book and then implement with assured success.

I have to woo her. I have to be witty and pleasant and charming and… romantic.

I do not think this is going to work.

Especially not after my first attempt was so disastrous.

Lord Wylde asked that I tell him about her, so I did. When he learned she enjoys reading as much as I do, he suggested I try to find common ground there. So, I went to try and find her in the library.

She was exactly where she was the last time I saw her there, still reading “The Last Dragonlords.” I watched her for a moment, savouring the look of contentment on her face as she read, as well as a few quick reactions to the book. How I love it when her nose scrunches in displeasure!

‘That is quite the odd thing to fixate on,’ you wrote in your diary. It seemed a decent night’s sleep had helped recover some of your humour. ‘What is it, in particular, that you like about my scrunched nose?’

She did smile at me when I approached, but I think she thought I was a Maester, for her smile faltered when I greeted her. And she was so shy. Usually, when I struggle to find the right words, she breaks the silence. Today, she did not.

At least it gave me time to remember why I came to the library. She was still reading “The Last Dragonlords,” so I told her it was my favourite and asked if I could join her. I think she was somewhat embarrassed about reading a children’s book, but I assured her it was no matter and that I would nonetheless enjoy reading it with her, and she allowed me to sit with her.

My plan was to sit with her, discuss the histories, and perhaps, in time, hold her hand as a first step toward genuine affection. But the plan quickly went awry.

It all happened so fast that I don’t even remember exactly what I said. But somehow, I insinuated that she was not intelligent enough to understand the book. The book meant for children – young children.

She was very upset with me. Rightfully so! Still upset enough that she stormed out of the library after making several cutting remarks that proved that she is, in fact, quite intelligent.

After several minutes and a brief reprimand from one of the Maesters, I finally gathered myself enough to realise that she had left the book there. As well as several pages of notes.

Of course, the noble thing would have been to not look and ask a servant to return them to her. But in that moment, I was desperate, not noble. So, I looked.

Her notes were beautifully organised and remarkably thorough – the work of a true scholar! She even crafted a beautiful family tree all the way through Aegon the Conqueror and his sisters. Had I not fumbled our initial interaction so entirely, we would have had a wonderful discussion.

You had feared him finding the notes, but you had never considered that he would be impressed rather than arrogantly amused. It made sense now that you knew his true nature. Perhaps, once whatever was between you was resolved, you could have that discussion.

In all honesty, there were a few questions you had that you hoped he would be able to answer. Not least of which being why in more than a thousand years, Targaryens had only come up with a dozen names that they repeated over and over again. You wrote as much in your diary.

It was useless for me to sulk in the library, agonising over what I should have said, so I gathered the book and her notes and left the library.

An apology was more than necessary, so I went to Aegon’s rooms. After all, there is perhaps no one with more experience apologising to women. Even if his apologies are self-serving.

When I arrived, I found Mother had already found Aegon first, and was well into another tirade about his behaviour. Normally, I would be happy to watch Mother yelling at him, but I did not feel I had time to. And Aegon was glad that I granted him a reprieve.

Admittedly, I had not wanted to admit to Mother that my wife and I were… not as close as I wanted. But, as she always is, she was eminently understanding, and far more helpful than Aegon was. His only suggestion was to bring her something nice – jewels, silks, or the like.

On the other hand, Mother gave me sage advice on what to say when I go to her. As my words have been my primary point of failure, I was very grateful for this. She did also say that a gift would not be amiss. An ‘offering of peace,’ she called it. But she advised something personal, not luxurious. If the gift is too valuable, she says, it will seem as if I am trying to buy her forgiveness rather than earn it.

I knew immediately what I should get her. I thanked Mother (and Aegon) and left at once for the gardens.

I found them – the flowers she loves so dearly. Dog roses, they are called. Unfortunately, they do not grow well in our climate, but the Maester’s managed to coax a few to bloom with their various potions and other horticultural creations.

They are almost as beautiful as her.

The Maester I spoke to said that it would be best if I had them cut just before I brought them to her, to preserve their beauty. So that is what I will do.

I will not practice tonight. At least… not that kind of practice. Instead, I will rehearse my apology. I cannot fail tomorrow.

You winced slightly, knowing that the next day would not go as Aemond planned and feeling as though it was your fault. But there was no changing that now. And you had already apologised – often and profusely.

So, you wrote only a simple note: ‘I don’t recall seeing dog roses on our tour of the gardens. Did you pluck them all?’

Looking back at his diary, you took a deep, steadying breath. Only two ribbons left.

The 28th day in the 5th moon of the year

I am the stupidest, most idiotic man in all the seven fucking kingdoms.

All I was trying to do was apologise to her for my unkind – though unintentionally so! – words in the library, but somehow it ended with her crying and me fleeing from her chambers yet again.

You cringed at the memory, almost not wanting to read on.

Aegon gladly offered his explanation, even after I told him I did not want it. He insists that I have so thoroughly repulsed her that she cannot help but burst into tears at the sight of me.

Mother thinks that she is just missing her family and her home, as she said. That she is overwhelmed by being alone in a strange place, and the familiar sight of the flowers – dog roses, as I have learned – brought those feelings to bursting.

Perhaps Mother is right. But her parents left a fortnight ago, and she has shown no other signs of homesickness. And she is not alone! She has the other ladies of the court to talk to, and Helaena and Mother adore her. And me.

If she came to me, I would do anything to cheer her. Not that she would seek comfort from me, no matter how dearly I wish she would. She certainly won’t after today.

After the disaster in the library yesterday and the scolding I received from Grand Maester Orwyle after my training this morning, I knew beyond a doubt that I needed to apologise. I… the shame I feel for having played any part in the state Orwyle described her in is unbearable.

So, I went to the gardens and had a Maester cut the flowers for me and arrange them in a simple bouquet.

She was on her couch when I arrived in her rooms – still in her nightgown and that robe. And again, she did not look at me. She had eyes only for the flowers. I thought then that they had been the right choice.

I apologised, but she did not react. She still just stared at the bouquet. So, I went ahead with the rest of my apology.

Then she touched my hand. It startled me, and I pulled away from her on instinct, dropping the bouquet in her lap. She looked at them like I had dropped a helpless kitten rather than flowers!

And she started crying. Softly, the tears welling in her eyes for a long moment before spilling over. I do not understand what I did to upset her. I said only what I had planned last night. It was so hard to resist brushing the tears away, but she seemed nearly volatile, and I did not want to make things worse.

‘I miss home,’ she said, finally.

It did sting that she does not consider King’s Landing and her life with me her home – it still does. But she is hundreds of miles away from the family of her birth, from the people who have undoubtedly treated her better than I have. I cannot blame her.

I apologised again for upsetting her and left.

At dinner, I had planned to ask Mother and Grandsire if we could find a way to send her home, at least for a little while. So she could be happy. Perhaps I could even go with her. I might have an easier time talking to her without the pressures of my family and the capital upon me.

You smiled at the thought of Aemond at your home keep. Of him in all his black leather among the fields of dog roses. Talking with your father in the library. Him training with your brothers – you were confident he could defeat any one of them alone, but knowing your brothers, they would absolutely gang up on him.

‘One day,’ you wrote, ‘I would love to show you my home.’

I was waiting for the opportunity to ask when she arrived! After this afternoon, I did not think she would come to dinner, but she did! I could have wept for my relief.

And when I offered my hand to her, she took it. Not only that, but she squeezed it – hard. I think believe it was her way of accepting my apology.

She did not speak during dinner, nor did anyone ask her too many questions. Aegon was his typically infuriating self, silently encouraging me to do something with her. What he expects me to do when in front of the entire family, I do not know.

After the meal, I offered to escort her back to her chambers, which she accepted. And once we were alone, she thanked me for the flowers!

It was going unusually well. That is, until I decided to open my mouth. I only meant to compliment her, as she did look quite beautiful, but… I just kept talking. And then I had suddenly insulted her gown from yesterday and her robe.

She closed herself off from me then, shoving away my arm. Why could I not just shut up? I know my words are the source of so many of our misunderstandings, yet I keep talking! At this point, I am strongly considering a vow of silence.

‘Please don’t take a vow of silence!’ you wrote, scrambling for your diary as if it mattered how quickly you got the words down. ‘Your voice is far too lovely for me to never hear it again.’

Tomorrow, I am going to try a suggestion from Lord Wylde. Show her that I am not a failure in everything I do. I pray it works.

You turned the page, expecting to find the entry for the next day, but there was none. There had been a page between the entries for the 28th and the 30th, but it had been sloppily torn out. All that remained was the beginnings of the date in the upper corner.

It was entirely against what you knew of Aemond. The man who had dutifully started his journal on the first day of the year and began each entry on a new page would not do something like this.

What had upset him so? Had you said something to him?

No, of course not. The only time you had seen him that day was in the training yard, and you hadn’t spoken to each other, not after… not after he stormed off. Had he actually been hurt in his fight with the Kingsguard? Or was he just embarrassed that you had witnessed him fall?

Gods, how you wished you had gone to him that night. But perhaps you could make up for it now.

‘After you were absent for dinner,’ you wrote to him in your diary, ‘I almost came to your rooms. I was worried for you. Though I confess, that was the only reason I found myself walking toward you… I missed you, at dinner. I missed you helping me into my chair. I missed your smile. I missed the way you’d hold the plates for me. Most of all, I missed your voice, and your presence next to me.’

You sniffled slightly, staring at a lamp on your wall to dry the tears that were forming before finishing the entry, ‘I’ve missed you these past days, as well. But I’m almost done. I’ll see you soon.’

The 30th day in the 5th moon of the year

I have made my gravest sin yet. And my most foolish.

We had the perfect morning together in the gardens. Silent, mostly, but perfect. She smiled at me! She allowed me to lead her through the gardens on my arm. It was… precisely what I had hoped for.

Until I once again acted like an absolute fucking fool.

Before I had to leave for court, I asked if I could come to her rooms that night. And for one perfect moment, I really believed she was going to say yes.

But then she mentioned her moon’s blood, and I just… panicked. I am not entirely an idiot (though I become less sure of that declaration with each passing moment), I know what that means.

It means that I’ve failed her. In even more ways than I knew.

I have made her miserable. I have made her cry. I have failed in every duty of a good husband, including the most basic of tasks – I have not given her a child.

I cannot go on like this – trapped in an endless cycle of misery where I can do nothing but hurt the both of us. I must do something to free us from this.

It doesn’t matter if she doesn’t love or even like me. I just want her to be happy. If that means that I never get to see her or love her again, I will make myself accept that.

First, she needs to know why I’ve acted this way. To know my true feelings so she can decide what she wants me to do. Gods, if she wanted me to go to Essos and never return, I would.

A blot of ink covered half the page, as though he had simply set his pen down while he thought.

I know what to do. I just pray she understands.

“I understand,” you said aloud, as though Aemond were before you. But, of course, he wasn’t. He was halfway across the castle, a distance that suddenly felt like the Narrow Sea itself. Throwing down your blanket, you shouted for your maids to dress you at once, your morning meal be damned. The moment finished tying off the last lace of your gown, you ran.

You had only been shown where Aemond’s chambers were once – on your first tour of the Holdfast. Then, you did not know whether to be disappointed or thankful that they were far from yours. Now, as your nervousness flooded through every part of your body, you hated the distance more than anything.

Each step was an effort, as with every one, your legs felt heavier and heavier, as if they were made of iron. Your blood felt as though it was rushing dangerously fast, carrying with it a marked chill. Despite feeling frozen within, sweat still somehow beaded at your brow. Yet you could not wipe it away, for your hands were all but stitched to the two diaries you carried.

Was this a terrible idea? Would Aemond laugh at you for all your silly little notes? Would he be angry with you for taking days to fulfil his request? You came to a halt in the middle of the corridor, tears prickling in your eyes as you considered so many horrible possibilities.

No, you thought, the word echoed by the impact of your foot on stone as you took a heavy, sure step forward.

The Aemond you thought you knew would do those things. But that Aemond wasn’t real – and never was. He had only ever lived in your terrified imagination.

The real Aemond was the one who had been so awestruck upon first seeing you that he could not say anything other than your name. Who had fallen for you so quickly and with such intensity that he forgot how to act like a proper person and instead stumbled over his words and actions like a drunk man through a crowded alley. Who had been so desperate for you to return his affections that he swallowed his pride to seek help. And who had finally given you his diary when he could think of no other way to show you how he really felt and who he truly was.

It was the thought of finally meeting that Aemond that made you put one foot in front of the other, faster and faster, until you were sprinting down the halls, only stopping when you came to the door you had seen only once before – his door.

You did not understand how you had found it again after only seeing it only once before. Nor did you remember knocking on the smooth, dark wood.

But then you heard footsteps approaching.

Hastily, you transferred the diaries to one hand and wiped the sweat from your brow with the sleeve of the other. You wanted to straighten your hair, for it had surely come loose from its braid after running so fast. But there was no time for that.

There was the dull, metallic sound of the door being unlatched, and then there he was.

Aemond stood before you, breathing heavily himself as though he, too, had been running. His silver hair was mussed, and there were smudges of purple beneath his widened eyes – his eyes.

He was not wearing his eyepatch.

Your mouth fell open at the sight. At least one of the rumours had been true. Beneath the raised, rough skin of his scar, in place of his lost eye, was a brilliant blue sapphire. It suited him perfectly and was perhaps the most beautiful thing you had ever seen.

He looked at you for a moment, the corners of his mouth lifting in a hesitant smile before realising what had caught your attention so thoroughly.

“Oh gods,” he whispered, covering the sapphire with his hands and turning away. He took a few steps into the room before speaking again. “I did not mean for you to see this. I’m so sorry. Please forgive me. Please…”

You said nothing. Silently, you moved into the room and shut the door. Aemond stared at you, his good eye watering as you approached him.

“I’m so sorry,” he said again. “You should not have had to – ” He startled when you brought your free hand up to his wrist and started trying to tug his hand away from his face. “What are you…?”

When your only response was to continue tugging, he relented, allowing you to lower his hand. He swallowed thickly, fixing his good eye on the wall behind you instead of at you. Seeing his shyness, and now knowing it for what it was, almost made you smile.

But your own shyness took hold of you as you guided his hand down and wrapped it around the spines of the twin journals you held. When you looked back up at Aemond, he was staring at them and the green ribbon that now marked a page within your diary.

“I don’t understand,” he breathed, tightening his hold on the books.

With a slight smirk, you gazed up at him and dropped your hand from the diaries. “It’s your turn.”

[shitsndgiggs]

Hey.... first I would like to say that your work is amazing.... and would you consider writing a kenan yildiz x reader on her period.... something like she passes out from pain or needs an IV.... and he is worried.... and after he takes care of her . Can you make it longer and fluffy I guess so

TENDER CARE - KENAN YILDIZ

When an unusually severe attack of period cramps causes you to faint, Kenan’s protective instincts kick in

Kenan Yildiz x fem! reader

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿

When an unusually severe attack of period cramps causes you to faint, Kenan’s protective instincts kick in

The pain hits like a wave, relentless and consuming. I double over on the couch, clutching my stomach, and try to focus on my breathing.

It’s one of those days when my period cramps feel unbearable.

This time, though, it feels different, sharper, more intense. I feel lightheaded, and as I try to stand, the room spins. Suddenly, everything goes black.

I wake up to find myself in Kenan's arms, his voice filled with panic. "Y/N! Babe, wake up!" He gently pats my cheeks, trying to rouse me. I stir slightly, a soft moan escaping my lips.

"Kenan... it hurts," I whisper weakly.

"Shhh, it's okay. I'm here," he says, his voice shaking with worry. "We need to get you to the hospital."

"No, I don't want to go," I protest weakly, trying to sit up. "It's just cramps."

"These are not just cramps," Kenan insists, his eyes filled with concern. "You've never passed out before. I'm taking you to the hospital."

The ride to the hospital feels like an eternity. Kenan holds my hand, squeezing it gently, trying to reassure me despite his own anxiety. "Hang in there, babe. We're almost there," he says, his voice soft but urgent.

Once we arrive, the doctors take over, and I'm left alone, feeling cold and scared without him. Kenan is right outside the door, arguing with the nurse to let him stay with me.

I hear his voice, desperate and insistent, and it gives me some comfort.

When I open my eyes again, I'm in a hospital bed. The sterile smell fills my nostrils, and the lights above are too bright. Kenan is by my side, his face etched with concern. "Hey," I manage to say, my voice hoarse.

"Hey yourself," he replies, relief flooding his features. "You scared me."

"Sorry," I whisper, reaching out to hold his hand. "It was really bad this time."

"I know," he says softly, bringing my hand to his lips. "But you're going to be okay. I'm here."

Back home, Kenan insists on carrying me to the couch, despite my protests. "Kenan, I can walk," I argue weakly.

"Nope, doctor’s orders," he says with a smirk, though his eyes are still shadowed with worry. "And my orders, too."

He fusses over me, making sure I'm comfortable. "Do you need anything? Water? Painkillers? A blanket?"

I smile at his clumsiness, his protective instincts making him endearingly awkward. "Just sit with me," I say, patting the space next to me. "That's all I need."

Kenan sits down next to me, wrapping his arms around me gently. I lean against him, feeling some of the tension leave my body. "I made some tea," he says, awkwardly reaching for the cup he placed on the table.

He almost spills it, but manages to hand it to me without incident.

"Thanks," I murmur, taking a sip. "You're really sweet, you know that?"

He blushes. "I'm just glad you're okay," he says softly. "I hate seeing you in pain."

"I know. And I appreciate it. But you don't have to worry so much."

"I can't help it," he admits. "I love you."

His words take me by surprise, but then I smile, feeling a warmth spread through my chest. "I love you too, Kenan."

Kenan is like a clumsy guardian angel, hovering over me, trying to make sure I'm comfortable.

He even attempts to cook my favorite soup, though I end up helping him from the couch, giving instructions as he fumbles with the ingredients.

"Careful with that knife," I warn as he nearly slices his finger.

He laughs, a bit embarrassed. "I'm better on the pitch than in the kitchen, huh?"

"You're doing great," I assure him. "Just... maybe a little slower."

Finally, he brings the soup over, looking immensely proud. "Here you go. Special delivery."

I take a spoonful, savoring the warmth. "It's perfect. Thank you, Kenan."

As the evening goes on, we settle on the couch together, watching a movie. Kenan keeps glancing at me, as if to make sure I'm really okay. I snuggle closer to him, feeling safe and loved.

"I don't know what I did to deserve you," I say softly, looking up at him.

He smiles, brushing a strand of hair from my face. "I think that every day about you."

We sit there in comfortable silence, wrapped in each other's arms. Despite the pain and the scare, I feel a deep sense of peace, especially with Kenan by my side.

[ranhaitanisgf]

hi! could i request headcanons or oneshot (either is okay) for bonten timeline sanzu haruchiyo with an excitable, extroverted reader? thank you so much, and no worries if not! (+ also your theme still says rqs are closed, but i saw you posted them being open two hrs ago :3)

pay attention to me!!

synopsis: how would bonten haruchiyo act w/ an excited & extroverted s/o?

☆ a/n ˎˊ˗ idk if yall can tell but ive never written for mr haru lawl ... also !! i added a little mini oneshot cause i couldn't help myself :3 thank you so much for requesting !! this was so cute to write !! i hope everyone enjoysss xoxo

☆ characters ˎˊ˗ sanzu (akashi) haurchiyo x g/n!reader

☆ wc ˎˊ˗ 2.7k+

masterlist

❥ sanzu thinks you’re annoying at first. 

❥ he doesn’t notice at all when you first move into his apartment building; he doesn’t take much care in noticing small things like that if it didn’t relate to bonten. his work and mikey were the only important things to him, so when he hears excited squealing seeping through his walls one day, he thinks that his neighbor has a kid, (which quite frankly annoyed him, but he decided he didn’t care enough to do anything about it). 

❥ there was no estimated time as to when he would get home--ranging anywhere from 6pm to 4am--so it takes at least a month or two for him to meet you officially. coincidentally, he had been going out to grab a drink from the convenience store when you were excitedly jumping around outside your door, a delivery package in your hands. 

“oh! omg, are you sanzu-san?!” “...hah? who’re you?” “oh my gosh, i’ve been knocking on your door everyday for the past month, but you never seemed to be home! i never got to introduce myself to you! i’m (l/n) (y/n)! i moved in not that long ago, so i wanted to get to know my neighbors!”  “‘kay. bye.” 

❥ the only thing he wants to do is get away from you; he doesn’t want to be bothered with civilians, much less someone as annoying as you seemed to be. seriously, why were you talking so loud?!

❥ much to his displeasure, you followed him all the way to the convenience store, talking his ear off about the most meaningless things he’s ever heard of in his life, (how does somebody talking about nothing for so long?!) as he purchases his drinks and walks back to the apartment building. it takes everything in him not to snap at you; if he did, he would probably wake up all the neighbors from raising his voice, which wouldn’t be ideal since this was already his fifth apartment in the last six months. 

❥ he’s unsure how you possibly couldn’t get a hint that he didn’t want to be bothered, especially after he only said a maximum of ten words to you in the whole thirty minutes you were following him around, (are you really that clueless? is this what loneliness does to people?). it does take him by surprise that you aren’t scared of him though; you’d shown absolutely no sign of apprehension despite the scars around his mouth, which he supposes shows a bit of good character from you. not that he really cares. 

❥ he’s more than happy to shut the door on your face when he gets back to his apartment, finally indulging in the peace and quiet of his apartment, (he doesn’t think he’s ever been so happy to hear nothing). right when he’s opening his bottle of sake, he hears squealing through the walls. when you start monologuing about whatever you’d received in the mail, he just decides to quit and go to bed. 

❥ sanzu isn’t sure how, but you have somehow made it your routine to follow him places whenever you ran into him. he also isn’t sure why he continuously allows you to tag along with him, but as long as it doesn’t affect his work, he doesn’t really care. 

❥ you’re always talking about something; the weather, your coworker’s strange behavior the other day, or the stray cat you saw in the alleyway that ran away. there are times when he tunes out your talking and uses it as white noise, but you never seemed to get upset at the fact that he visibly is zoning out. 

❥ after a while, he gets used to your constant presence around him, so much so that he finds it strange to not hear your excited yammering while he’s at work, (although he supposes he wouldn’t want to have that constantly in his ear while he’s doing ‘business’ with someone). 

❥ the one thing that gets the attention of the rest of the bonten executives is when he suddenly stops going to the clubs, leaving whatever work he had there for during the day when it was barren. it was such a drastic change in behavior; sure, sanzu was never the type to be obsessed with the scantily dressed girls in the club, but he was known for taking some home every once in a while. at the very least, he was known for getting various types of substances from sketchy dealers who frequently attended. what’s even stranger to everyone is the fact that he slowly starts to engage in less substances, (though he still does every once in a while) which is what rings the alarm bells. 

“oi, sanzu.” “what do you want, ran? i’m fuckin’ busy.”  “well, it can wait. the fuck’s been up with you lately? you’ve been acting weird as shit.” “so?”  “so, what the hell’s been up with you?” “none of your goddamn business, that’s what.”  “woahh, easy there, man. seriously, somethin’ bothering you?”  “i said it’s nothing, so drop it.”

❥ by the time he realizes what he’s been doing, it’s too late for him. you and your talkative self have wiggled their way into his heart, setting up camp to stay for a while. he had a glimpse of a thought of it when ran was confronting him, but he immediately pushed it out of his mind because how could that possibly be true? 

❥ it can’t be true, even if he unwillingly likes to think about it now. he can’t let himself think about it; you were one of the most strange yet innocent and pure people he’s ever met, so how could he willingly taint you with someone like himself? no, he wouldn’t let it happen.

❥ and just like that, everything seems to be back to normal for him. he goes to the club even more than he did before, and the amount of substances he uses seems to increase exponentially by the week. he begins to sleep on the couch in his dingy office instead of going home so that he doesn’t run into you, only going home for the bare essentials every couple days, (and even then, he leaves after just a few minutes). 

❥ it’s just his luck that he gets out of his car the moment you turn the corner onto the apartment building’s block, seeing him in plain sight as he freezes for a moment. and then he unfreezes because 1.) why is he of all people scared to run into you? he’s a bonten executive, he’s killed people before, so why was his heart beating so fast right now? and 2.) he needs to get away from there. right now. 

˗ˏˋ𖤐ˎˊ˗

“hey!! not so fast, haruchiyo!!” you shout, your steps hastening as you try to catch up with him. sanzu can hear your steps behind him, but his long legs give him the advantage as he quickly ducks into the apartment building, smashing the elevator button and tapping his foot as it decides to be as slow as it possibly can be. 

he lets out a ‘tsk!’ sound when he notices you enter the building, promptly looking away from you and looking cooly at the blinker indicating what level the elevator was on, (can this thing move faster?!). 

“stop ignoring me!! where have you been?!” you questioned, your voice a mix of worry and anger. “i’ve been knocking on your door everyday with no response!! i know you don’t particularly like me, but you’re the only person who doesn’t walk away from me, so could you at least give me a reason that you suddenly started avoiding me?!” 

“...’m not avoiding you.” sanzu doesn’t know what to do right now; he’s never seen you angry like this before. typically, he would care less about the feelings of some random person like you, but for some reason the hurt in your voice makes him unusually unsure of himself. 

you scoffed at his lame excuse, rolling your eyes. 

“look! you’re trying to avoid me right now with elevator! seriously, can you just tell me what i did? i won’t do it again, i swear! just stop avoiding me!” 

“fuck, it’s not you!” sanzu suddenly said, his voice strained. “i’m just busy, okay?! you’re better off being friends with someone else.” 

“but you’re already my friend!! why don’t you want to keep talking to me??” sanzu ignored your words, his gaze staring straight ahead at the doors of the elevator, his stare so intense that you could almost think he was trying to open it telepathically. “hey!! can you just answer the damn question already, haruchiyo?!” 

“why do you need to know so fuckin’ badly?! i just said i’m busy!!” 

“because! i like you!” you yelled, your eyes seeming to get a bit watery. “and i know you don’t like me and that’s fine but i just want to be able to talk to you and see you sometimes, but now you’re always gone and i don’t know when you’re going to come back and it scares me! i just-” 

sanzu cut off your words, promptly stepping in front of you and slipping his hand behind your head, slamming his lips into yours. he’s not even sure himself why he did something stupid like this, especially when the whole reason he was avoiding you was because of his own flaws, but he couldn’t help himself when he heard you being so cute and worried over him, (seriously, how was he supposed to resist something like that?). 

it obviously took you off guard at first, but sanzu made sure you quickly realized what was going on, his mouth desperately pressing against yours. his kiss was rough but passionate, his lips moving quickly against yours as he pulled you closer to him, his other hand sliding around you to rest on the small of your back, (he’s doing it purely out of instinct; he hasn’t really thought about how he had been avoiding you for this very reason). 

a small ding! from the elevator grabs your attention, making you push him off of you as someone comes out from the elevator, glancing at the two of you a bit suspiciously before walking out of the building, leaving both of you in silence. 

“uh…wanna go to the convenience store for snacks…?”

˗ˏˋ𖤐ˎˊ˗

❥ it took a little bit for sanzu to open up to you about anything even a little bit, but once he did, you were able to figure him out pretty quickly, especially when he’d finally decided to be truthful about his actual profession, (bro does not work an office 9-5). due to all of this, it’s easy to tell that sanzu has a lot of issues, but it wasn’t something that you weren’t willing to work through with him!

❥ the two of you are the definition of black cat and golden retriever! you are always excited about everything and are taking him to all the cool and trendy places on dates while he is more quiet, keeping close to your side and watching everything with a careful eye, (especially people he defines as creeps, i.e. people who look at you for more than 0.2 seconds). 

❥ date wise, he is usually following your lead. he doesn’t have the slightest clue about what you think it romantic, so it will usually be you planning outings for the two of you. a lot of times he will complain about being tired and not wanting to go out, but don’t worry, he’s completely lying; he just thinks it’s cute when you whine and pull his arm asking him to come out with you. 

❥ despite the fact that he is not the most romantic guy, he does a lot of romantic things without realizing. he enjoys sending you your favorite flowers when you’re at work or staying at home while he’s at work, sending cute little notes along with them, (well, you think they are pretty cute). 

i think you like these ones. -h be ready by seven. wear something you feel good in. -h sorry i didn’t buy milk. there’s frozen waffles in the freezer. -h

❥ sanzu does a lot of those little things for you too; opening doors for you, pulling chairs out for you, taking things out of your hands when you’re carrying a lot, etc. it doesn’t seem like he’s the type to do things like this, but it’s because he isn’t the type to do it. he only does it for you, and he himself doesn’t even know why he does these things, (he’s head over heels in love with you, but in no universe will he ever actually admit that). 

❥ the most protective over you, and a little possessive too. he doesn’t control everything that you do, but he likes to have a clear-cut plan of everything you do on a normal day so that his mind is put at ease, (also so he can known when something is wrong). he won’t tell you this, but he has someone assigned to keeping an eye on your as you go about your day because he’s extremely paranoid that somebody from an opposing gang will try and come after you. he would prefer if he could by your side himself, but it’s the next best option, (he still sends frequent texts and calls you throughout the day to make sure everything is well). 

❥ the possessive part of him comes out more when he thinks people are hitting on you, (they really are just being nice; he’s just a little bit crazy…he loves you though!!). he doesn’t hesitate to slide his long arms all around you, letting you continue talking while he makes a deadly eye contact with the person, his face twisted in mild disgust as if he were looking down at a cockroach, (he’s mastered this expression somehow). he knows that you enjoy talking with people so he won’t keep you from doing so, but in the process he will make sure that everybody knows you’re his. 

❥ sanzu’s not the most affectionate person there is, but he is affectionate when he wants to be. there are times when he’ll come home and not say a word, just wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his head in the crook of your neck, mumbling something about having a terrible day. really, he just becomes a big baby when he’s like that, laying his lanky limbs all over you and claiming that he’s ‘recharging’. 

❥ it’s hard to label sanzu as an extrovert/introvert, since it can really depend on what mood he’s in and the situation. he’s more of an introvert in public settings with other people, (he doesn’t know how to interact nicely with people he doesn’t know) but when he’s with a majority of people he knows, he turns into more of an extrovert which matches with your energy quite nicely. 

❥ unintentionally, there comes a time when you accidentally get to meet the rest of his coworkers. it happened when they were dropping him back off at home after a night at the club and you’d had to come get him from the car because of how inebriated he was. 

“woah, you’re (y/n), huh?”  “oh, yes! it’s nice to meet you! you all must work with haru, right? please continue to take good care of him! would you like to come inside for a snack or some water?”  “...dude, what the fuck.”  “how the hell did he bag someone like that?!” 

❥ safe to say, they are all extremely shocked, (they never would have thought that someone like sanzu would be dating someone as sweet and talkative as you). the next day when he gets into work, he’s immediately hounded with all types of questions surrounding you and how the two of you started to date. 

“holy shit, is that why you were acting crazy a few months ago?!”  “i wasn’t acting fuckin’ crazy?!” “sanzu, you’re the craziest person here, and you started acting normal!! that was crazy!!” 

❥ after that, he makes sure that his associates never get to see you again, (“hey, bring your pretty lil thing around sometime!”, “i would rather kill you right now.”).

[cheri-2047]

Hello! I hope im doing this right hehe,,,

Can i request for a Lyney x fempainter!reader who's also a tsundere? Reader also has a soft spot for flowers :3 tysm in advanced!!!!

i have such a big Lyney brainrot sm to the point that my parents call him my boyfriend 😭

ANYWAYS. IVE been wanting to feed The lyney x reader tag cause I love my husband. thank u for the req btw !!

sorry if I made the reader a bit like,,, too much (??) my bad if I did

“Roses for you!”

TAGS: fluff ! CHARACTERS: Lyney, Rosseland, Mentions of Charlotte,

Poof

you were painting peacefully, while Lyney was out on a mission. Lately you had been running out of inspiration, so sometimes you would get his cat Rosseland to pose for you.

“guess who~”

Someone covered your eyes, appearing out of nowhere.

“you’re back early” you smiled, before the man who appeared behind you covered your eyes tighter

“You didn’t guess”

“ugh you- I mean my wonderful and amazing boyfriend, the one and only, the greatest man in Teyvat, Lyney!” You said sarcastically, Lyney chuckled as he felt you rolling your eyes.

“oh come on now! Don’t you want to see something cool?” “look Lyney- I’m- ah rosseland no go back!” you felt the cat rub against your leg, you got tickled a bit.

lyney chuckled at the sight, pressing a kiss to the back of your neck, causing you to get tickled more

“ah-lyney” you laughed “stop!!”

He chuckled before letting go of your eyes

“tada!”

and just like that, your canvas was gone. “hey where did you-“

when you looked back, you saw him holding a bouquet of rainbow roses. You blushed

“why did you…”

“you said you were running out of inspo right?”

you nod

“and you know how I’ve been in a lot of missions lately right?”

you nod

“well I.. charlotte told me in a mission that rainbow roses signify romance and passion. And well… I got reminded of you”

you blushed, averting your gaze

“they’re fresh too! I Just picked them”

he smiled, sitting on a chair behind you and hugging you from behind.

“wait..picked them?”

“mmhm, I grew them myself.”

you were shocked, you didn’t even know that he had been growing flowers for you.

“just like my love has grown for you”

AND THAT WAS IT. That was the last straw, at this point you were a flustered mess and you didn’t know how to thank him. Let alone even look at him.

“Tsk…you shouldn’t have-“

“No- no buts! I wanted to, I love you”

he smiled, holding your chin to make you face him. He laughed, “my you’re so cute like this!” “shh!!” You crossed your arms, as your lover planted a kiss on your lips.

He moved the chair next to you and with a snap, the canvas re appeared and the roses in a vase in front of it

“can I Watch?”

you nod, and he lays his head on your shoulder as you start to sketch.

“your art is so pretty… I’ll never understand how you do it so well…” he mumbled as Rosseland hops into his lap. and just nuzzles against him a lot.

“I think rosseland agrees as well” he smiles. Looking up to see you for a bit

“still speechless Mon ange?” He chuckled, wrapping an arm around your waist.

“I love you”

A/B: aaaaand that’s a wrap. I might draw this honestly HAHAHAHAH sorry it’s kinda short, I just kinda did whatever here. Also sorry if the French terms of endearments are wrong, I just searched it up. Anyways mon Ange is my Angel :>>> I had fun writing this WAAH I love Lyney so much (this is my second lyney post of the day…) btw, good luck on your art journey !!

btw… my Masterlist issue isn’t fixed yet, if anyone can comment how to fix it that would be a great help, thank you !! (And also comments to improve are also appreciated, anything about capitalization and grammar and stuff I know, I’m writing for fun so I don’t pay much attention to that HAHHAHA)

[mentally-gone002]

is it too early to love you? - final part (7)

(moodboard made by moi)

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7

summary: reader and spencer meet in the afternoon like they’d promised to play chess and get coffee. everything is prefect and comfortable, even as reader gets brave enough to do something she felt sorry for not doing sooner. 

a/n: gang… i don’t wanna end this one… but idk what i should do past this part😭😭😭 but if yall want more just request smth cuz im obsessed with how this turned out🤓 ALSO ty for all the love you’re given this series, ive had a blast writing this (literally destroyed my sleep schedule i made because i go back to school in like four days or some bullshit) and it’s rlly awesome being a writer that makes fun little things that ppl end up loving!!!! so big ty to all of yall who’ve been reading 

————————————————————————

was this too much?

i stared at myself in the mirror as i adjusted the collar of my sweater with my fingers. 

i’m just going to see my best friend, so why am i dressing like this is a date? and why am i so nervous. 

it’s a good nervous. the kind that had an entire rabble of butterflies fluttering around my stomach.

it wasn’t fancy, just a casual outfit that he’d definitely never seen me in before. i would wear this on a date though. on an occasion like this one.

i stepped away from my reflection. it was 11:30 and it wouldn’t take me longer than ten minutes to get to the coffee shop but i got my shoes on anyway. it doesn’t hurt to be early. 

i left my apartment in a giddy rush. my feet were louder on the stairs than usual due to my quick pace. 

one of my neighbors who was walking inside gave me an amused smile. “what’re you getting up to today?” she asked. 

i directed my eyes towards her. “i’m going to see a friend.” my lips were pinned in a smile. 

she grinned widely. “is it that boy who’s always coming over? the handsome tall one with brown hair?” 

“maybe.” i nodded. 

she gave me a knowing look. “oh honey, are you sure he’s just a friend?”

i tried to hide the flush over my cheeks. “i’m sure.” 

“okay.” she nodded slowly like she wasn’t convinced. “i’ll know when he’s more than that.” 

i rolled my eyes and left the building, deciding to walk instead of drive. maybe it’ll help my energy levels. 

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

i was cold by the time i got to the coffee shop. the autumn air was motionless apart from when cars would drive past me on the street, and the chill bit at my face and hands, even though i had them hidden in the sleeves of my sweater. it was bearable though. 

“welcome in!” 

the cheerful voice of a barista behind the counter mingled with the bell above the door and the chatter of customers placed across the establishment. it was warm inside and it smelled like coffee, for obvious reasons. 

“hey.” a familiar voice sounded behind me. i turned around to look at spencer while he closed the shop door behind himself. 

“hi.” i smiled. 

“have you been here long?” he wondered. 

i shook my head and freed my hands from my sleeves. “no. i got here a minute or two ago…” spencer’s hand on my face had me trailing off. his fingers moved some of my hair away from my eyes.

“did you walk?” his brows were pinched together, more so as i nodded. “it’s cold out.” 

i smiled. he’s too sweet. “i’m okay. it’s not that bad.” i promised him through the tone of my voice and the look i gave him through my lashes. 

he smiled softly with a nod. “good.” 

“we still have a chess game to go play, so you better not let the temperature get to you.” my hand reached out to gently clamp around his wrist so i could pull him after me into the short line so we could get our coffees and then walk to the park. 

“can i try yours?” i asked while walking down the sidewalk, outside again. i gestured to his coffee by tapping the side of it with my index finger. our arms brushed as we walked. 

spencer hummed a ‘yes’ as he handed off his cup to me. 

i excitedly took his cup and sipped from it, cautiously because i’ve heard morgan say that it would put him in a coma if he had more than a sip of it after mixing up an order. this happened years ago but morgan still talks about it.

he was right because when the drink hit my tongue i closed my eyes, pulling a face at how sweet it was. “jesus!”

spencer’s sweet laughter swirled inside my head. he gently took his cup back. “too sweet?” 

i nodded quickly. “yeah. how do you drink that everyday?” i sipped my own coffee to try and get rid of the sugar that still lingered on my tongue. 

when we kissed he tasted like that.

he shrugged. “i don’t know, I’m just used to it i guess.”

our arms brushed again because i can’t walk in a straight line but he didn’t seem to mind. “what did you get?” he quizzed. 

i read the barista’s handwriting on the side of the cup. it was what i got whenever i went to a coffee shop but i still liked to get my answer right. “a half dark half white chocolate mocha with caramel. i got a double shot of espresso today so… we’ll see how that plays out.” my eyes trailed up to his face while we stopped at the crosswalk across from the park. he glanced down at me, eyes all content. his pupils were blown wide which made it hard to see the brown of his eyes. 

“don’t get a caffeine rush on me.” spencer told me. “i might not be able to handle you.” 

i scoffed with a squint of my eyes. “please, you’re able to handle me no matter what.” 

he agreed with me. 

while we were stepping away from the safety of the sidewalk i mindlessly grabbed spencer’s hand. it was just a habit i’ve always had. an instinct to reach out and hold onto whoever i was with while crossing the street. 

when we reached the other side i quickly released his hand. i met his eyes with my own. “sorry. force of habit.” i smiled shyly. 

spencer smiled back. “it’s okay.” 

he found an empty table to play chess at, which was the only one that wasn’t occupied. i never knew people favored playing chess in a park so much until now.

i sat down on a stone chair on one side of the board while spencer sat across from me, pulling a box of chess pieces out of his bag. i watched him slide the white colored pieces over to me. “do you just carry those around all the time?” i wondered while placing all the pieces in the correct places. 

“yeah.” he nodded. 

i smiled. “you have a marry poppins bag.” 

“i love marry poppins.” spencer hummed. 

i laughed quietly in endearment. he’s really pretty today. 

“okay,” i put my hands flush against one another and rubbed them together. “prepare to loose.” i slid one piece forward.

spencer shook his head. “in your dreams.” he moved a piece. 

i watched him and processed a few things i could do before moving. 

we went back and forth in silence for a few minutes before i looked up at him. he was looking at the board with furrowed brows. “when did you learn to play?” 

spencer moved a piece before answering. “when i was a kid. me and my mom would play a lot.” he focused on my lips for a moment before shifting to my eyes. he smiled almost timidly. 

i stole one of his pieces with my next move. it was held between my fingers beside my face. “gotcha.” i whispered. 

he took a piece of mine and mirrored me. “you were saying?”

i frowned. “you’re mean.” i moved again.

“this is all part of the game.” he laughed as we kept playing. 

i rested my head in my hand and stared at the pieces in thought. i moved another piece over the board before taking a quick sip of coffee. 

the park was nice today. there were a lot of people walking or sitting or playing chess like us. it was comfortable. i don’t know why i haven’t come here as much. 

spencer’s hair fell over his face when a light breeze blew through the park and i wanted to reach out and brush it out of his eyes. 

i don’t remember moving my arms to do so, but i leaned across the small table and did so anyway. spencer didn’t take his eyes off of mine, not while i was moving his hair with my fingertips on his skin, and not when his hand mirroring mine took the one in his hair in his own. he intertwined our fingers and i thought i was dreaming as he moved so our elbows were propping our joined hands over the board. 

he nonchalantly went back to the game, taking one of my pieces. “your move.” he squeezed my hand to snap me out of my trance the physical contact put me in. 

i nodded, pursing my lips. “right.” i felt like there was more attention on me and it made my focus dwindle. i still moved a piece that spencer took after a few moves, but he smoothed his thumb over the small extent of my hand he could touch. 

i smiled suddenly as i took a piece of his. “while i was leaving my building my neighbor asked me where i was going. when i told her i was seeing a friend she asked ‘the handsome tall one with brown hair’ and i thought that was such an accurate description of you.” i sipped more of my coffee. being outside had cooled it down significantly. 

spencer squeezed my hand that i was convinced he wasn’t ever going to let go. i met his eyes. “you think i’m…” he trailed off momentarily while he moved another piece. “tall?” he asked, that stupid but addicting smile slipped onto his lips. 

i scoffed, mouth open in an amused smile. “yes, yes i do.” i nodded with a laugh. “all 6’1 of you.” 

spencer’s eyes were so soft on mine. they were just full of adoration and endearment. i didn’t have a problem with getting lost in them. i’d get more lost just in his company every day. 

“you’re so beautiful…” his voice was so quiet i wouldn’t have caught what he’d said if i wasn’t looking at him. i read his lips in slow motion. 

“thank you.” 

we played the rest of the game in silence and secret glances. spencer won which didn’t surprise me. he told me i was good though, and that must mean i’m really good if its coming from him. 

spencer let go of my hand so that we could put the pieces away. my hand got cold immediately. i worked quickly to group the colors of pieces and slide them over to him. 

when we left the table, people immediately occupied it. i laughed slightly. 

“is there this many people here often?” i asked, my hand brushing his as we walked. 

he slowly interlaced our fingers again, being casual with it. “this isn’t the busiest it’s been.” he replied. i nodded, looking down at our joined hands. 

my feet stopped moving across the sidewalk and spencer stopped with me. “you okay?” 

i looked up at him, searching his eyes for what he must have searched mine for when he’d first kissed me. 

i wanted to kiss him. 

i can’t deny that anymore. 

so in the middle of the park in the afternoon i did just that. i stood on my toes and kissed him. my chest pressed against his and i swear i could feel his quickened heartbeat while our lips gently pressed together. 

spencer dropped my hand to cradle my face, meaning i couldn’t pull away so soon. and i was just fine with that. 

i slid my hand around his waist to his back. my palms pressed flat into him, making a soft hum pass from him to me. 

when we did pull away for breath, spencer whispered, “it’s not too early to love me.” his forehead pressed against mine. 

i smiled. “you heard me that night?”

“yeah.” he nodded subtly. “and i’ve played it over and over again in my head.” 

i smiled, tilting my head to kiss him once. “it sounds like you love me.” i ran my hands down his back. 

“i do.” he whispered. “i really do.” 

my head rested on his chest as i hugged him closer. his arms wrapped around me in an instant. “i’m sorry i made you wait for me.” i muttered. 

“i’d wait for you no matter what.” spencer replied, kissing the top of my head. 

i smiled in content, breathing in his scent that was like a muscle relaxant. everyone and everything around me and him just faded away. 

until both of us got a phone call. 

i frowned and dug into my pocket to answer the same time as spencer. 

“hello?” 

“hello my lovely, we have a case and need you here ASAP.” penelope’s cheerful voice filled my ear. i sighed and looked up at spencer as he gave me the same look. 

i nodded. “okay. we’ll start heading over.” 

“who’s ‘we’?” penelope asked. 

“me and spencer.” i replied, not really caring if she freaks out because it’s worth it for him. 

she squealed over the line. spencer had already hung up and was waiting for me. “that’s so adorable. okay, get here quick, hotch is looking at me impatiently.”

“okay. see you soon.” 

“bye!”

i shoved my phone back into my pocket. “there goes the weekend.” i took spencer’s hand as we walked to where his car was parked. 

“i’m glad we got to do this.” he told me. i smiled, running my thumb against his hand. 

“me too.” i agreed. 

spencer stopped in the middle of the sidewalk to kiss me once. i giggled with my eyes closed. “what was that for?” i wondered. 

“just to make sure this is real.” he replied. 

i stood on my toes to kiss him again. “it is.” 

he kissed me one more time, which resulted in some guy telling us to ‘get a room’ to which i started laughing, head leaned back. 

spencer started dragging me to his car with that, we were in the safety of it when he kissed me one last time. 

“the team is waiting.” i reminded him. 

his eyes went wide. “i forgot.” he chuckled softly. 

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

when we made it to the roundtable room morgan whistled at us. “about time.” 

i smiled awkwardly and sat down, spencer following right beside me. “sorry. my car wouldn’t start.” i lied. 

“ah yes, so you repaid pretty boy with a kiss?” 

i whipped my head towards spencer and noticed a mark from the tinted chapstick i was wearing on his lips. i discretely used my fingers to wipe away any color that escaped my lips. “that’s not from me that’s from… a random girl on the street.” i avoided everyone’s eyes while attempting not to smile. “she thought he was handsome.” 

the whole team exchanged a series of unconvinced looks. hotch was the first to speak. “start the brief garcia.” 

with that she got started, talking about the new case full of gruesome details that i only heard half of. i was too distracted by the way spencer grabbed my hand under the table and squeezed it to assure we were okay. 

the team definitely didn’t believe any of what i’d just said but it didn’t really matter. neither of us cared. 

it definitely wasn’t too early to love him. 

[rqbossman]

Hello Mr Bossman! (and possibly anyone else who reads this)

Its an honour to be here, I have a few questions. First i appologise for the long paragraph, you may dismiss it for the questions at the bottom. For context, i am here after finishing TMA and being up to date with TMAP, i then went over and listened to RQG, and have just finished listening to Epilogue 3 and might i just say, good sir I am grateful for your podcasts. I am currently just a few months away from my final exams of High School, and as someone who even just 1 year ago was very lost, struggling with school and being just overwhelmed. TMA isnt exactly comforting, but the characters and plot managed to serve as a good form of escapism while sorting myself out. I found my self engaging more in creative things that i had originally put aside in favour of maths and science (which i hated but thought i needed to do). I started drawing again, even if just fanart. and i found things going well. By finding podcasts, story telling and these communities have helped me in my own understanding of what i want in life. I got an ADHD diagnosis earlier this year, and almost directly after started RQG and as my first hyperfixation (that i was aware of as an hyperfixation) gosh dang it hit hard. (in a good way). Ive been able to do so much more creative writing and drawings, and got re-involved with a small dnd group with some friends who i played one game with almost 4 years ago now. So overall, inspirational sounds cringe, but it was. Im doing my best with the upcoming exams, but trying to get in to Medicine is not my only prority, and the fact ive been re-introduced to my first love (Literature and story telling), im planning to go do an Arts degree and i know i wouldnt have been able to confidently make this decision, or even have survived this long in the school system without the work you and your coworkers do. Now the sap is out of the way, Question time! (if you could answer even just one of these questions it would be so cool)(they go in order of RQ relevant to random stuff)(dont feel pressured to answer all/any. i know i wrote alot): 1. what would you say is the best way to draft out a long-form story. (with "Erasing the Line" as an example) Did you start at the end, with the links to the overarching plot.

2. When working with the players (in a form of TTRPG), what did you do to make sure you didnt miss relevant timing of plot points/ avoid creating spoilers while still giving enough detail?

3. What are good places to start with making a job out of storytelling/voice acting/audio etc. In the case of RQ, how is this a job and where do i sign up please! /j (what i mean is, how is best way/how did you find all the people involved and was there a common path that you were all on before getting to where you are now?) 4. Do you have recommendations for Terry Pratchett Books, i may be an literary-leaning student, but it seems i have never actually properly read any of his books. so where is best place to start?/What did you read first?

5. Similar authors or similar inspirations? Did you have a favourite podcast you listen to in your free time that you havnt had a hand in producing/directing/working on. 6. Favourite song/album/artist. And more specifically, what you like listening to in background when doing either writing or (for ttrpg) character research/game planing. 7. Since the olympics are on at the moment, what has been your favourite sport to watch, if you have been watching at all. Thank you for your time :)

Thankyou for all the kind words. Knowing our work is helping people really keeps our engines fired up. Let's see if I can't answer your questions: 1. I "sandbox" which is where I just shove everything I can think of into an unorganised bullet point list. Characters, setting, plot, all of it in one big mess. Then I decide what type of story you want to tell, copy and paste to a new document and then start to organise the thoughts (with the sandbox on standby if new stuff comes in I don't know what to do with). I think of it like scultping, you cut away bits and reshape until something comes out the other end that is story shaped. Only then do I attempt to build the sandcastle and put something coherant together like a synopsis or scratch draft etc.

2. Very tricky. I did a complete review and update of all notes after each recording session and don't forget the audio eas edited. I made lots of gaffs that you never heard as audience.

3. I contacted anyone I could convince to take part and just proved I was serious by overworking. I don't reccomend that route. Unfortunately it really is "who" you know. That doesn't mean chase established professionals as much as it means you need to get out there and associate with other up-and-comers who match your vibe. For me the route was long and windy and not a particularly good example. 4. I normally recommend people do not read his books in publication order. Don't get me wrong, its wonderful watching his craft grow from one title to the next but I would recommend new readers tip their toe into his later works to see if they like where he ended up before committing the time. I often recommend 'Monstrous Regiment' as people's first one. My favourite though is 'Thief of Time.'

5. I don't get much time to listen to podcasts in the last couple of years. I used to listen to a lot of non fiction. 'Stuff you Should Know' and that ilk. I also read a fair amount of classic YA fiction to unwind (Windinsger trilogy, Bartimeous, stuff like that.) 6. Paul Simon's Graceland but when working I assemble a playlist for each seperate project that is tonally appropriate. If I really need to focus I listen to Classical Minimalism. Or the Old School Runescape soundtrack. I'm allowed to be ecclectic. 7. I am actually in an incredibly busy work crunch at the moment so haven't seen any of it!

[sozila]

chiaroscuro. (nanami x reader)

synopsis: as a princess, you had a duty to the country. to knight kento nanami, you simply were his everything.

pairing: personal knight!kento nanami x princess!fem reader.

warnings: 18+, mdni. eventual sexual descriptions.

masterlist | previous | next

you are on: contemplation. part two of three

a/n:

apologies for the late upload! life is very tumultuous and i am no exception :,) i've been writing this for a while but it was mostly done a hot minute ago, but got beta read recently by my lovely ivy (@beeh-ive) and i've made tweaks enough to proudly say this is a good part two :) ! word count is 6.8k, very large jump but promise it's going to lead up to a good ending part three!

ao3 link here.

contemplation. (part two)

kento looked at you incredulously. he stuttered for the first time in your presence, unable to find words. 

“wha— well, i..! you cannot possibly —“ 

you look at him firmly, an unwavering resolve in your eyes. “i want to run away, and i need you to help me.” 

kento was barely processing words, let alone the logistics of this act. the ramifications, oh god, what if someone heard you utter these words? this was absolutely insane. he paced the room for a moment. it was true that your situation is bleak.after all, you’ve recently found out about a secret marriage alliance concealed so well even kento was aware of the arrangement. he was already ruminating that you were to marry any man, much less a cold prince. he knew certain rumors about satoru gojo. his womanizing escapades, lack of responsibility, unruly behavior. he was truly furious when he saw the same man standing in front of him and was declared to be betrothed to you. you, who got shy at even the mention of being intimate with a man, who had the aura of grace itself and was definitely the most respected princess kento knew. to say prince gojo did not deserve you was a scathing understatement. his princess deserved a man of finest nature, who would give you the world in your hands if need be. deep down, a tiny voice whispers that he only wishes it be him. 

kento snaps back to reality when he hears you call him for the fourth time. “kento nanami! heavens, is it surely so impossible? i know it shall require finesse and sacrifice, but i simply..” you trail in self-doubt, biting your thumb absentmindedly. with a small sigh, nanami kneels in front of your lap and grabs your hand, gently pulling it away. 

“forgive me, princess. i reacted unbecoming of myself. i simply.. i simply think about the meaning of it all. if you leave this castle, you will always be in hiding. you will never see your sisters and brothers again. you will lose more than just your lifestyle, my crown. this… will be irreversible.” 

his tone was soft and comforting, but his words stung, making your chest ache. he was right. a life lost to gain another. it is an ultimate sacrifice that you need to be absolutely sure of. 

“i understand, kento. i will grieve, this is fact. but i cannot live the rest of my life knowing i could have escaped this all when i had the chance, albeit small.” 

kento looks down at your hands that were still being held in his caresses them softly with his thumb. your heart jumps at the gesture. 

a beat passes. 

“give me the night, princess. i will form a plan that will do you the least harm. this is my promise to you.” 

his eyes flashed with intensity, the devotion in his tone not missed. his head leans down to kiss your hands, eyes not breaking contact. his lips stay on the skin longer than expected, causing you to feel hot from the contact. 

you couldn’t lie and say you didn’t miss the obvious; kento was a very gorgeous man. you’ve watched him (far more often than a lady should) train on his off days from your window, his skin glistened with sweat and his body moved swiftly in sparring. his body was built compared to most of the royal guard, surprisingly lean due to his tall figure. 

you’ve caught yourself accidentally drawing his features in your sketches, and now held a secret stash of them in your closet. once when cleaning, one of the maids found them and you begged her not to tell on you. she simply giggled and complied. “you misunderstand me! they are very beautiful, my lady. you should show him one day,” she told you. you thought about the scenario in which you could do so. the both of you in your colorful garden, him walking in step of yours as he usually does.. and you courageous enough to tell him your true feelings. 

would he be happy? horrified? uncomfortable? 

…interested? 

you knew the possibility was nothing short of impossible. but when he looks into your eyes like that, pledging his loyalty so sincerely to you, you can’t help but let your mind wander to the idea. 

the soft squeeze on your hand pulls you away from your thoughts and back to the man in front of you. your head dips in a bow of thanks, silent but sincere. 

kento wordlessly understands. his hand slips out of yours—the emptiness making your heart sink for just a moment—but your composure evens back to calm, as you have perfected over the years. he pushes off of his knees and reflects your bow, a bid goodnight. you barely raise your fingers in a motion to say, yes, you may go, despite the looping thought that he rather stay with you for the night instead. it was a childish impulsive thought, but one present in your head nonetheless.

he exits the room with your heart in his hands, as it has done so for the last five years.

the next morning you do not find kento at your door when you wake up. nor do you after your chamber maids come in to bathe and dress you. and even so when you are drinking your morning tea in the gardens. still, you sat in your frilly prison, passing the time in the ivy gazebo until you had some sign of your knight.

while kento had in fact left his post as your personal protection, he did not leave you without replacements. in his place were two young guards you had been acquainted with in passing. you had forgotten their names unfortunately, but they were extremely recognizable. one had blue-black hair in the shape of a sea urchin, a creature you had read about in novels only. despite your lack of familiarity with the sea animal, you definitely saw the resemblance with the boy. he was stoic and a well-mannered one, unlike his counterpart. radiant pink hair and with an energy you hadn’t seen anyone over the age of three exercise, the second guard was a bright and kind boy that struck conversation with you often. you had learned by the afternoon his name was yuuji, and the silent one was megumi. 

“your highness, i must say your taste in flowers is just impeccable. a lady’s maid told me you curated this entire garden at fourteen, is that true? the colors just light up this dreary castle, thank the gods. i hope you don’t mind if i practice some dueling with megumi here? got to keep our senses sharp, right megs?” “yuuji, we are not sparring in front of the crown princess. my deepest apologies for my imbecile partner, your grace.”

you snap your fan open and cover your mouth to let out a giggle at their shenanigans. what joy to see youth being youthful, you conclude. 

the chamomile in your cup eventually goes cold and the sun turns into a bright orange hanging in the sky. you gather your skirts and your fan and walk back to your room, pulling at your bodice. the lace had been digging into your skin since morning, and upon further inspection it was evident by the red marks that it was not just a figment of your imagination. you think for a split second if you should call your chamber maids but decide against it- you’re not a child, you can change a damn dress by yourself. your suffocated waist is instantly relieved as you practically rip off the pink cloths and strings. you’re finally allowed the luxury of breathing once you toss the pesky things away from you. corsets were surely made with the man perceiving it in mind, not the woman who had to wear it. you’re in simply a chemise under-slip when you hear the unmistakable voice of your dear knight trip on himself in shock.

you miss the way his eyes widen before he chokes out a cough.  “—ahem! p-princess, my deepest apologies, i would not have barged in if i knew.. i knew you were indecent,” 

as you flip in reaction to him your cheeks flame instantly, hands flying to your breasts to cover any unwanted bits. you knew the linen on your chemise was rather thin, a tad see-through. “k-kento!” you squeak with equal embarrassment. 

he lowers his gaze out of respect, and if his hand wasn’t covering his face you would know it was pure scarlet. this was insanely out of his clearance; fuck scandalous. he wasn’t in his usual uniform, but instead a formal pair of slacks and a white blouse with the sleeves rolled up. gods.

you let your hair fall around your face to hide your wandering eyes. nothing more sinful than strong forearms on display for you while you’re barely covering yourself, gods help the both of you. your eyes dart to the throw linens on your bed and all but lunge for them, wrapping yourself to cover your dignity. 

“i assume you have updates, yes?” you barely manage, trying to maintain the true situation at hand. 

you notice kento physically straightens as he enters his professional demeanor, remembering why he came into your room in such a hurry in the first place. you also notice he is holding parchment in his other hand.

“of course, my crown. i must preface with another apology, however.. i do realize it took much longer than i expected to settle discreetly,” you give him a quick nod and hand wave of dismissal. he takes this as a sign to continue. 

“right, thank you. in six days’ time, your father has deemed you to travel with prince satoru back to his country via his ship. the crown prince maintains his own crew, so he will be on deck before dawn to see through business. this allows us to have you ride in your own personal carriage to the docks, only accompanied by a driver and myself. i will take over the carriage and detour us to this—“ he points to a dot on his parchment, a map. “—village. we will stop for food and supplies, rest. i will be arranging some documents for our identities as well. after that, we will travel another day’s time to the village where i will buy a cottage for you to reside. it is a lovely but quiet town, princess, it sits by the shores untouched by our ships and trade. it is… serene, i've been told. for the life you deserve to live.” 

your eyes meet his, and the intensity, the familiar intensity of his devotion and loyalty, is unmissed. it’s paired with something soft you cannot recognize, but makes your heart skip rapidly regardless. it’s him, any look he gives you sends you in a flutter of joy. you clear your throat to break the trance. 

“what about his father, king masako? where will he be?” 

“he has planned to stay here for diplomatic discussion to further the marriage treaty between the nations. when you are declared missing, it is best the king and prince are separated to increase the chance that you will not be found.” 

this was true, you knew that messages between prince satoru and the king would take long, and devising a search between both sides even longer. it buys you time that you will desperately need. kento had really thought this through, and found the information in one day to boot.. you were beyond impressed, but also knew that he wouldn’t fail you with such an important task. he tells you some more details about his plan, making sure you wouldn’t be blindsided by any events that could occur. 

you give the maps a once-over and understand you’ll be traveling eastward, the warmer forest regions of your country. no wonder kento said the village he has chosen for you is going to be beautiful; you knew the potential environment from your books on your country. whatever the state of your future residence, you knew that freedom was what you dreamed about. 

you give him a final nod with strong determination, a fire blooming in your chest. “so it shall be, we make our escape in six days’ time.”

waking up on the fateful day, you try to take in as much of your room and the castle as you prepare for the journey.

out of nerves or maybe excitement, you had woken up well before the sun had risen, the sky still lit by moonshine. you try to capture the details of the room you’ve been housed in from the day you were born, the murals painted on your ceiling and the pink furniture you held memories with. 

picking up a necklace, you can’t help but feel a sense of melancholy for the bouts and bouts of jewelry you owned. twirling the metal in your hand, the light bounces off the rocks adorned in them. they never held much significance to you, just things you expected to receive every birthday, new year’s, or another excuse of an occasion. 

you didn’t feel the parting of sorrow, and the absence of the emotion is what made you truly sad. what a bittersweet inception. 

when you idle in the halls before the staff wake, you stand before the only painting you ever cared for. 

tears well up, blurring your vision of your mother smiling back at you with your chubby figure held in her dainty frame. 

this was the only painting of you and your mother in the same picture that still hung in the castle halls. your mother had died a few days before your second birthday. it was true that your birth has intensively affected your mother’s health— your father thanked the gods when she came out of the delivery alive. 

but no one realized that she suffered heavily for the months to follow. kerchiefs with bloodstains, dizzy spells and finding the queen passed out in the bath were well-kept secrets from the king, by her request. she knew she had limited time in this world with her beautiful baby girl and did not intend to be bed-ridden with treatments. 

what she did not know was that her death would loom over the kingdom for years and years, blackening the heart of her devoted husband. somewhere deep down, he blamed you for her death. then came your nannies, the governess that tortured you for years into the prim lady you were today. you longed for the chance to switch the stars and have a life where your loving mother stayed for you. 

despite the brutality of your upbringing, you held true to your kind heart and had compassion for life itself, reading about the beauty of the world and the adventures people had beyond your wildest dreams. at least now you have things to look forward to instead of cursing the universe. the raw nature at your fingertips, you exploring the forests and beaches! 

and maybe, just maybe… you get to give a mother’s love to a child of your own, something that you never had the opportunity of experiencing, long outside these cold stone walls. you hope someday you would find a man that would help build the future you dreamed of... and maybe he isn’t too far away. 

voices start to echo among footsteps in the castle and that was your sign to retreat back to your room. you get prepared as usual and your chambermaids have already packed your items for the supposed trip to the gojos’ kingdom. 

when you’re finally standing outside in the front courtyards, you fiddle with your lace gloves, fan hung on your wrist. your father and king masako were standing to see you off, with the entirety of the guard and staff. kento was still not here yet, and the carriage was being loaded with your suitcases. 

you look at the trees to calm yourself, watching birds flutter around singing their soft melodies.

“ah, sir nanami. we were beginning to think you were absent,” king masako chuckles slimily, throwing a hand on the back of your knight. 

your breath hitches at the sight of him. he was fully decorated in his royal guard uniform today, with all the medallions, ribbons, and your family’s house insignia, his sword now ensheathed in an etched-swirling gold cover. he was one of the highest ranked knights in the guard, save for the captain and the king’s personal guards. 

“apologies, i had misplaced my medallion.” he walks up to the carriage and opens the door, finally looking at you. 

“after you, princess.” you turn to your father and king masako and give a small goodbye curtsy out of respect, and lifting your skirt you walk towards the carriage. kento stretches a hand out to you, to offer you help on. you don’t know why this time feels different, but you feel a hot surge through your glove when your hands meet. 

you step on with poise and sit delicately on the seat. kento gives you a strong look and curt nod before closing the door behind you, leaving only the carriage windows with sheer curtains as your view back outside, on all four sides of the vehicle.

you hear mild conversations and feel kento sit in front with the driver, the horses snorting and nickering. at last, the carriage pulls with a whip, and the feelings and turmoil that had been plaguing you have ultimately dissipated. 

earlier, he had told you it would be around an hour deep into the forest when he would seize control over the carriage, knocking out the driver with force and then injecting a serum that would keep him asleep for a few hours to minimize risk. knock, knock, knock.  

kento told you he would give you a signal so that you would not be caught off-guard when he takes over the horses, given that it would be a little rocky. you shut the book you were reading and stay on high alert, hands gripping the cushioned armrests. your heart was beating fast. 

you had confirmed with kento that he would not try to hurt the man, simply hitting a nerve in his body that would put him to sleep. 

“argh!” a soft grunt of struggle, but the silence that followed finalized to you that the driver was subdued. 

the carriage shakes violently for a moment from the horses veering off track. you manage to get to the front window that separated you and the driver’s seat, pulling the curtains away. 

“kento! are you alright?” your eyes dart and see him lay the limp man on the seat in a manner so that he would not fall off before taking the reins of the horses and yanking them back, enlisting whinnies from them. “agh.. it’s under control, just a moment!” the horses slide into a racing stop, a small dust cloud surrounding the carriage from the action. 

a long breath you didn’t realize you were holding finally leaves you, your hand flying to clutch your chest. 

you thank the gods that this went smoothly as you step out of the carriage, looking for kento and the unconscious driver. your eyes catch him dragging the driver to a shaded part of the trees, away from the road. you follow, the crunch of leaves underfoot echoing in the stillness. 

"we'll need to move quickly," kento expresses, glancing over his shoulder. you nod, anxiety tightening your chest as you watch him tie the driver's hands and feet. the urgency in kento's eyes matches your own, knowing the journey is far from over. "let's hope this works," you murmur, exchanging a determined look with kento before heading back to the carriage.

as you climb back into the carriage, you quickly change into the plain clothes kento had advised for blending in. the simple blue dress felt unfamiliar, but necessary. definitely freeing, you think as you glare at your deathly tight corset laying on the carriage floor. 

kento stands outside, on watch for any other vehicles passing by. his sharp gaze never wavers as he scans the road, his posture tense. 

"ready?" he calls through the muffled door, his voice urgent. 

you nod, adjusting the dress with a quick tug to make sure it's secure. “ready.” you call back, opening the door once more. 

you step out to give a small spin, eyes watching his reaction. the sun is hitting your hair in such a way you look positively angelic.

“too plain?” you joke with a lopsided grin. 

he shakes his head, a small languid smile on his lips. “nothing is ever plain on you, princess.”

gods, you would never get over how intensely he pronounces all of his words. 

you blush and cover your reaction with a small distinguished cough, and turn to the horses. 

“would you like me to sit beside you, or inside the carriage?” he clears his throat, going back to removing all of his decorations to display a more plain guard uniform. “personally, i would prefer you inside. to attract less attention,” he explains. you nod firmly, not arguing with any of his logic. “so be it, then. nothing i am not accustomed to,” you hum, settling into the carriage. 

as kento mounts on, this time into the driver’s seat, you notice him adjusting the reins and glancing at the road ahead. “there will be more passers-by, so please lay low.” 

you brace yourself, giving a noise of agreement. the vehicle lurches forward again and you close the curtains of your windows, your heart a soft pound with the rhythmic clatter of the wheels.

a nearby ship’s horn blares in a deep rumble, like clock-work with the crash of ocean waves. satoru is tapping his foot rapidly, glancing at his pocket watch before shutting it with an irritated huff. he walks down the propped plank to the docks, approaching his group of officers. 

“it is currently five hours past sunrise. the princess should have been here two hours ago. is someone going to tell me any information on her whereabouts, or are you just useless scoundrels i pay to idle about?” he seethes, his glare withering the men into shivers. 

the second mate pipes up with a small voice, wincing. “your grace, i..” a couple of hushed whispers between the men ensue before he gets shoved to continue on by one. “we.. no one knows where she is. they said she left the castle a little over the agreed time, but that was the last correspondence, pleaseforgiveusyourgrace !” he squeaks out the last few words in a rush and holds his hands up in anticipation of a physical blow. 

satoru’s jaw ticks, his eyes narrowing at the men. how stupid. this entire kingdom included; they’re all so stupid . don’t think he missed the exchanges of heated glances between you and your knight, the dark and calculating man that kept staring daggers at satoru in that first meeting. he heard him inside your room passing by, even. soft words he was all too familiar with. what blasphemy that no one had a clue of the scandal happening right beneath everyone’s noses.

he pushes past the men, disgruntled, and finds the nearest saddled horse to jump onto. the men exclaim in shock, pleading him to find reason. “no, it is absolutely impossible for me to leave this with idiots. i am finding the princess myself and will be back in damn good time!” he yells behind him, starting his horse in a fast fashion towards the forested road. 

you didn’t realize you had dozed off until kento was softly shaking you awake. you open your eyes, mildly disoriented with where you were but quickly remembered the reason you were here. 

“i need to water the horses, princess. i’ll be at the river offside the road,” his deep voice rumbles in your ear as he leaned down to tell you this. you nodded sleepily, watching him through half-lidded eyes as he moved away. 

you hear the horses clomp away with him. the warmth of the midday sun and the earthy sounds of the forest surrounded you, lulling you back into a peaceful state. you had never been able to simply enjoy the forest whenever you were on trips to events or other towns, it was so new to you to just exist and be able to do as you pleased without thinking about repercussions. you also felt a sense of security knowing kento was nearby. with a soft sigh, you slowly began to sit up and move, ready to join him by the river to stretch your legs a tad.

you weren’t ready to see the scene before your eyes— the horses were cast aside along with a new one and your knight engaged in a sword fight with the crown prince you were supposed to be with. 

kento had checked on you when you were quiet in the carriage, sneaking a peek to find you dozing off on the seat with your book ajar in your hand. you were adorable, even with drool on your chin. he chuckles softly at the sight, you just had certain quirks about you that kento loved. 

he notices the horses are panting more haggardly than before and pulls to the side of the road, since it was following along the river. they clearly needed water, and it seems you were due for a stretch given your oddly-bent sleeping posture enlisting knitted brows from you, something he caught as well. 

kento drops down to come around into the carriage, close over your sleeping form. unmatched beauty, you had. he wakes you gently and leaves you to recollect your senses while he detaches the horses, leading to the calm flow of water. they dip their muzzles into the river, slurping eagerly. 

suddenly, the next moments go by in a blur when kento’s focus immediately shifts to the rapid galloping he hears coming from deep in the forest. 

he has his sword drawn in time and in a strong stance when prince satoru leaps off of the moving horse, his own sword firmly gripped in his hand, pointing at kento’s chest.

“care to enlighten me why the princess is not on my ship but rather traveling with you?” satoru demands, sizing him as they circle each other.

both were remarkable swordsmen of their own caliber, this would not be an easy fight for either man. 

“the princess always travels with me in her stead,” kento replies cooly, poker face unreadable.

satoru’s glare shines with fury. he takes a lunge and maneuvers with kento’s deflection, swift and focused. 

“do not change the subject at hand, you knave!” he seethes. 

the clash of metal reverberates through the air as kento parries the blow, the force of the impact vibrating up his arm. 

“stay back, your highness," he warns without looking at you, his attention fully on the prince. 

satoru’s head whips for a second to find you wide-eyed, in commoner’s clothing, watching the two of them altercate. kento took this as an opportunity to disarm him, but satoru was too quick on his feet for something so mediocre. 

“you realize i can have your public execution done for this filthy affair? have you no respect for royalty, knight?” he sneers, scoffing at the indifference he saw on kento’s face. 

kento’s brows knit together in confusion. “an.. affair? you’re mistaken, prince gojo. i have no illicit affairs.” he admits.

satoru chuckles bitterly before throwing another three consecutive blows with his sword, unwavering. 

“by the gods , you must think me loggerheaded! i’m not blind, you bastard! i know you’re bedding the crown princess!” 

you gasp, causing both men to put their attention onto you again since you hadn’t made a single word since the fight began. “that is untrue, prince satoru! i swear on my crown!”

you shout, touching your head out of habit but soon remember you were not in royal attire and your crown was actually sitting in the carriage. your face rouges in embarrassment. “well, my crown in the metaphorical sense.” you mutter with a shrug.

 satoru's eyes flick back to kento, disbelief and rage warring in his gaze. "you expect me to believe that? i've seen the way you look at her!” he snarls, lunging once more.

kento side steps, his sword moving in a swift arc to deflect the prince's attack. he doesn’t refute the claim presented to him, however.

"enough!" you cry out, stepping forward despite kento's warning. "this fighting is pointless! you need to know the truth, satoru."

the two men pause, their heavy breathing the only sound breaking the silence. satoru's expression softens slightly as he looks at you, though his grip on his sword remains tight. "explain yourself, then, princess." he demands, with a hint of desperation in his tone. "why are you here, and not on my ship?"

“because i can’t marry someone i don’t love !” you scream while throwing your hands down, the anguish you’d been holding in burst at the dams of your composure. they both seemed a shred taken aback with your reaction, something they’ve never seen from you.

“do you know how painful my life was? how nothing was ever good enough for my father or governess? how i’m expected to sit quietly and smile kindly while others speak for me? how, as a woman, i have virtually no power in the kingdom unless it be through my future husband? no! you do not .” 

you heave as the word-vomit had come to a close, your expression a little less than crazy. you take a deep breath, eyes closed, before you look back up at the man with a bitter smile. “so yes, prince satoru. i have devised a plan to leave my life on the throne because i cannot live this wretched life anymore. gods forbid i have a choice ,” you spit the last word, voice cracking on a sob. 

satoru had softened after hearing your entire speech. your eyes discerned a sense of heartache behind his gaze on you, and you could definitely say it wasn’t about you. he knew what pains you spoke of, to be choiceless in a system designed to use royal birth right as chess pieces in a game of world politics. the breeze whistles past your ears and a light shiver comes over you.

“i understand.”

you give him a look of hesitance. 

he doubles down firmly. “i understand completely, princess. i misstepped in assuming you had left in a selfish act.” he admits, lowering his sword back into his cover. “but in truth, this is quite courageous.”

you breath a sigh of relief, thankful no one lost an arm or leg in the heat of the fight. kento looks at you with a proud expression, which sets your stomach in a flurry. 

“…but, if you wish to leave without me stopping you, you must comply with my one request.” you flick back to him with shock. he had a request ?

“i’ll hear it first,” you say with a slow frown. 

he rolls his eyes in exasperation and pops a hip in stance. gods, what a sassy man. “oh, don’t get your knickers in a twist. i’m asking that you allow me to help you.” 

now it really was your moment to be shocked, jaw slackening. “wha— why, whatever for?” you exclaim in confusion. 

he takes a small huff of a sigh before stepping towards you to pat a hand on your shoulder. “because i know a thing or two about not wanting to marry someone you do not love.” there was something distant in his eyes, something you didn’t quite grasp, but you believed his words were earnest. 

and so it was settled; kento and satoru decided their alibi stories, kento letting him know about your stops and where you would end up if he needed to reach you in the event of an emergency. they were still rather agitated with one another, but more so kento as satoru kept cracking jokes that didn’t make kento laugh in the slightest. it was a little uncanny how quickly satoru’s demeanor switched into a childlike one. i suppose the “womanizer” claims aren’t for nothing, you thought. again: you were just glad no one was injured, no chopped limbs or whatever else. you were not exactly keen on bloody sights. what? a lady has her limits.

kento steps away from satoru for a moment to speak with you while the prince waters his own horse. you had learned he had grabbed a random royal horse and had it race here, the poor creature. kento looks down at you, close enough for your nose to fill with the scent of him. you try to focus away from the intoxication you were feeling to pay attention to his words. his low timbre voice rumbles by your ear. “i’m very proud of you, princess.” your cheeks warm in gratitude. you don’t think anyone has ever told you they’re proud of you, for anything. “thank you,’ you whisper shyly. it’s not in your nature to be so bashful, not even with kento. you were usually the one bothering and teasing, like satoru had been doing. what’s been happening lately, was your infatuation so far gone?

finally when everything is settled. you’re seeing off the prince. he beckons you to come to him with a small cheeky grin. you roll your eyes playfully and do it anyway. he leans down from his horse to whisper in your ear. “i hope you know i was being serious when i said your knight looks at you in a way a knight should not.” he quips with a smirk. your eyes flick to kento and catch his disgruntled frown at the sight of you so near the prince, despite the debacle that just occurred before you all. you scoff and shove the childish man in his face. oaf.

“please get back to your country, satoru.” 

“aww, you called me by my name!”

eventually, the night falls and kento once more ushers the horses into the forest. he pulls the curtains separating the two of you to speak behind him. 

“it’s getting too dark, and these backroads are unsafe at night. we’ll stop here so you can sleep peacefully, princess.”

you look at kento with a frown.

“are you not sleeping?”

he gives you a look as if you were not understanding. “i need to keep watch. my duty as a knight hasn’t changed because of our plan, your grace.” 

kento definitely didn’t show any signs or tiredness or weakness, but they trained that out of them at the military academy. and most of all, this was your kento. you knew his mannerisms. you get out to dig into the suitcases at the back of the carriage, much to his protests. producing two blankets and a makeshift pillow, you shove it into kento’s arms. 

“we’re alternating. i sleep four hours, you sleep four hours. and you can’t say no! you won’t be alert in the daytime if something does happen,” you jabber.

as per usual, he looked mildly displeased with your fall behavior, enlisting a cheeky smile from you. 

“gods know how much you’ve aged me in stress itself, princess,” he grumbles, stalking off to lay the blankets down on the cold grass. 

“all the more reason you need beauty sleep, dear kento,” you hum in a sing-song tone. you retreat to the sleeping arrangement inside the carriage.

 you’re plaiting your hair in two neat braids when you realize you’ve left your hair bands outside when you were pulling blankets out for kento. you exit the vehicle and turn to the back of the carriage when you catch a full glimpse of a shirtless kento in the middle of changing. 

you squeak. the moonlight was rather bright, definitely enough to see his muscles and taut back. he was a very, very rugged man. scars from sparring lightly littering the sight, it was nothing short of rough. the emphasis lied on him being such a man .

he had immediately flipped around upon hearing your footsteps, and it was officially his turn to be beet red, caught in the middle of indecency. 

“the odds are even now then,” you wobble with an embarrassed laugh, trying to make light of the situation like before. he looks at you incredulously as he haphazardly throws on the new clothes. “princess, you cannot joke about blasphemy like this!” you giggle harder at his reaction. “i should have been the one acting like this when you came into my room that evening,’ you quip with a light shove to his chest. he squawks and if it was even possible, blushing harder. “i-i did not intend to do that! you’re always reading a history book at your table by late sunset, or drawing in your sketchbook. you tend to use the sunset lighting more, i.. i just assumed!–” he rambles on and on, apologies shoved in between his overthinking. you’re not listening anymore, though.

he remembers things about you.

you did read often, all palace staff knew. it wasn’t special. kento knew you loved history and the world. kento knew you loved arts and culture, and drew frequently to pass time. he watched your fingers move so quickly as your sketches took shape. in awe. he was so enamored by your talent, oh if you knew. you didn’t gather that you spent more time in the later hours to draw, but it was true you loved sunset lighting. you never thought about it until now, but you did. a detail even you did not know about yourself, and he knew .

gods, get real. obviously he remembers. he's ordered to stay with you every moment. what delusions are you feeding your emotions? that he kept that information for romantic reasons?

you rest a hand on his shoulder, prompting him to shut his mouth. you’re looking at him with a small sincere smile, riddled with the feelings churning in your heart. “i’m simply teasing, kento. mistakes happen.” 

he looks at your fingers on his shoulder, then you. he nods curtly, silent for a moment. his timbre voice rumbled gently, so soft to you. for you. “i only want.. no, need you to know.. i would never encroach on your vulnerability. i hold my respect for you to the highest standard.” 

there was that unwavering loyalty again. that borderline sinful look of trust wading in his deep brown eyes that you wanted to absorb until the end of time. his frame curled towards yours, you see the dutiful submission from the powerhouse he was. how such a large and fearful man who was dueling the most gifted swordsman hours ago, was now back to being your loyal subject, a humble guard. fully attentive to you, as always. every sense was trained onto your body, your soul, your being. perhaps it was because of the dark night, the lust in your heart lurking in the shadows.. you knew at that moment, you wanted nothing more than to embrace him in the rawest capacity. to ravage and ruin your demure act just for him. 

a breeze breaks the trance between you and him. you’re both already shuffling away from each other, you clearing your throat, him coughing to cover up the air of what was exchanged nonverbally. 

“i shall wake you when four hours have passed, princess. please sleep,” kento mumbles, turning to his blankets. 

you realized to some effect, he was thinking deeply in that moment, just as you had. you wished to know what he thought, and if they were filled with the same unforgivable fantasies you had of him. in truth, you knew this chance was slim if not nonexistent. but you had your dreams, and sleep awaited you anyways. if you couldn’t have kento in flesh you were allowed your mind-palaces where you can trace those scars on his back again and again, kissing every bump and valley of his body. those unwavering loyal eyes watching every move you make on him, skin to skin. his hands on you being rough but gentle, like his tone. they slot over your hips like they belonged there, you sat atop him. you felt beautiful under his gaze, his touch. he says things that make you melt into him sweetly. you’re unable to decipher where your body ends and his begins. your kisses get interrupted by his own capture of you, flipping you to the bottom. he’s towering over you so deliciously, wide chest, powerhouse . his fingers pulling away your hair from your eyes so you can witness him dipping his head down to–

you jolt awake. you didn’t follow when you drifted to sleep in your thoughts, but you knew you were drenched in sweat and unchecked filthy need. this was highly unbecoming of a princess, gods help your soul. dirty dreams of your knight, hah!

yes, you were far, far gone.

omg ur mind... is literally so tv-ma... LOL anyways please leave comments i luv them chomp chomp and i luv you, as usual :)

peace luv bathtub taglist! @kawliflo @deepcloudspyhairdo

© sozila 2024, all rights reserved. please do not plagiarize, translate, or repost any of my work on other mediums or sites. cross-posts on ao3 and tumblr under same alias.

[thebirthofvenusfly]

i've had a handful of people ask me Things in regard to my fic and personal ISAT headcanons so here are some rapid fire thoughts and questions:

(heavy emphasis on headcanon. none of these are necessarily canon in the real game. but they are MY canon in MY fanfictions)

-i am not a fan of the narrative that the party breaks up (in general, but especially) a year-two years after the events of ISAT so i will not be writing with that as a goal or possibility in mind and that will never be my canon in any works i create

-during ISAT's duration, odile fills in for bonnie's schooling as a tutor between their missions and endeavors. i feel like there's no reason this necessarily has to change post-game ( + there's a Lot of information they can learn more from, from travelling and having new experiences with new people and cultures first-hand) so this is something i adamantly keep canon in my works

-nille is a character too!! she is not IN ISAT itself, but she is a person with her own thoughts and feelings and qualms and disagreeable traits and emotional baggage! she was forced to runaway with and raise a baby in her teens, for goodness' sake!!! so yes i will write her with just as much focus and depth as i'd write any of the characters who DID appear in ISAT, i think they all deserve the spotlight :,)

-"what is siffrin's language based off of?" i don't know. i had specific language emphasis in mind based off ones i've studied myself, but... i don't know. i've heard in the discord that The Island is based off of guadeloupe, then i've heard that there is not supposed to be any confirmed 1-1 parallel and the island is purposely left up to interpretation. i genuinely don't know. all i was able to surmise is the island's food has some caribbean roots and that is literally it. i have been trying to do research on guadeloupe still and write from that perspective but it is a culture im very unfamiliar with and trying to write with tact and respect. i'm trying to make work what i can and would appreciate your patience with that (and if you are from guadeloupe or a similar area that shares some similar roots and influences, any help would be appreciated)

-odile is an only child, mirabelle is an only child, isabeau is a middle kid, bonnie is the youngest, siffrin was an only child with a younger sibling on the way and they've always had a natural connection with kids in their neighborhood (and around dormont!) which had made looking out for bonnie natural for them

-we don't get much information about mwudu and poteria outside of some small implications and dev notes. ex. poteria is said to be based quite a bit off italy and is a hot spot for its theatre and theatrical productions; bonnie can read mwudu (leading me to think bonnie and nille may be of mwudu diaspora) and in SASASAP odile regards samosas as being foreign to her iirc isabeau comments on them being smth only really popular near the coast (which is close to The Island + Mwudu); samosas seem to have south asian and middle eastern origins in Our World, leading me to generally base mwudu off of india from some research ive done on them. that being said, ISAT creates unique and new religions for Vaugarde, The Island, Ka Bue, etc. so idk at all what poterian and mwudu religious beliefs or influences would look like (which may not really matter, as bonnie seems to have very comfortably preferred vaugardian customs anyways? still smth im curious about though). generally, i headcanon bonnie and nille as first generation vaugardian-mwudu with their parents having immigrated to vaugarde prior to nille's birth