I Miss Him Sm I Keep Looking At His Tags For More Content 💔

this is so great, Im gonna crii 🥹😭😭😭😭 I miss him sm 🤧🤧🤧

LOVE & OTHER VARIABLES — SATORU GOJO

pairing — tutor!satoru gojo x cheerleader!reader

summary — you're the star cheerleader who can't solve an equation to save your life. he's the brilliant physics student who can't figure out how to talk to girls. but when he becomes your last hope to save your failing math grade, you discover there's more to him than theorems and thick glasses. between tutoring and cheerleading, you find yourself falling for the nerd who gets flustered at a simple hello but kisses like he's studied the subject for years. turns out love might be the most complex variable either of you has ever tried to solve.

word count — 9.2 k

genre/tags — college AU, friends to lovers, opposites attract, tutor/student, nerd/cheerleader, academic setting, slow burn, protective!satoru, implied virgin!satoru, mutual pining, sweet fluff, idiots in love

warnings — 18+ ONLY. contains explicit sexual content, mentions of unwanted advances/harassment form a side character

author's note — hey lovelies ! surprise early valentine's day gift, because what's better than falling for your adorably genius tutor? grab your headphones, play "so high school" by taylor swift, and enjoy this story of sweet pining and study room makeouts. sending love to everyone spending their evenings with textbooks and studying. may your grades be high and your tutors be hot <3

masterlist + support my writing + art credit: @/3-aem

Satoru Gojo dealt in hard numbers, precise calculations and proven theorems. He could solve complex differential equations in his sleep and had memorized pi to a hundred digits just for fun. But there was one variable he could never quite figure out, 

You.

You were everything he wasn't — popular, athletic, the kind of person who lit up a room just by existing. As captain of the college cheer squad, you moved through campus like you owned it, laughter and admiring glances followed you like a natural.

Satoru, on the other hand, preferred the quiet of the physics lab, the hushed rustle of pages in the library stacks. Quantum mechanics made more sense to him than the messy equations of human interaction.

So when Professor Nanami assigned him to be your maths tutor, Satoru thought it must be a glitch in the Matrix, a logical impossibility. You needed to maintain your GPA to stay on the squad, and apparently, he was the department's best shot at making that happen.

You recognized him the moment you walked into the study room — that quiet guy from your math class who always sat in the back, the one who seemed to solve complex equations like they were simple addition. You'd seen him around, of course, but you'd never really paid attention before. He was just... there. Part of the academic backdrop of college life, like migraines and coffee stains.

But now, as he looked up from his meticulously organized notes, something shifted. Maybe it was the way the afternoon light caught his white hair, or how his round glasses couldn't quite hide the startling blue of his eyes. Had they always been that blue? And when he spoke, his voice was deeper than you expected, rich and warm like honey.

"Uh, hi," he said, pushing his glasses up his nose. "I'm Satoru. Nanami-sensei said you needed a tutor. Maths, right?"

He stood from his chair, nearly knocking over a stack of textbooks in his haste to shake your hand. His hand, when you took it, was surprisingly warm and soft, though his grip was a little too tight, and you couldn't help but notice how he towered over you even with his slightly hunched posture. 

Up close, you found yourself noticing things you'd somehow missed during all those lectures — like the sharp line of his jaw, the faint shadow of his stubble, or the way his hand swallowed yours whole. Even the sweater vest he wore (which should have been insanely uncool) somehow worked for him in a way you couldn't quite explain.

"So… where do you want to start?"

And just like that, it began. Twice a week, tutoring sessions, afternoons that slowly evolved into something neither of you could quite solve for. Because here's what Satoru's calculations hadn't accounted for — the way you'd scrunch your nose when concentrating,  the sudden brightness of your smile when you finally understood a concept, or how your perfume would make it impossible to focus on derivatives.

And your variables? They never included the endearing way he'd push his glasses up when flustered, how his eyes would light up when explaining complex theories, or the fact that beneath that nerdy shell lurked a wickedly sharp sense of humor. 

But perhaps some equations weren't meant to be solved. Perhaps they're meant to be experienced, one tutoring session at a time.

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"Okay, explain to me again why I can't just try random numbers until something works?" You were sprawled across the library table, exhausted after hours of studying. Your head ached from staring at equations for so long, textbooks and papers strewn about in complete chaos.

Satoru rubbed his own tired eyes behind his glasses, but his voice remained patient as ever. Even after spending the entire afternoon explaining the same concepts, he hadn't shown a single sign of frustration. "Because that's not how calculus works. You need to understand the underlying principles—"

"But the underlying principles hate me." You dropped your head onto your textbook with a groan. "Can't we just agree that whoever invented all this shit was a sadist and call it a day?"

"Newton invented calculus," he said, then immediately regretted it when he saw your expression. "Though, uh, Leibniz developed it independently around the same time, which actually led to a controversy in the mathematical community—"

"Satoru," you cut him off, but there was fondness in your voice. "You're doing the thing again."

"What thing?" He pushed his glasses up.

"Your nerdy thing where you get all excited about math history." You sat up, propping your chin on your hand. "It's cute, but it's not helping me understand why this limit doesn't exist."

He nearly dropped his pencil. Had you just called him cute? No, you'd called his nerdy rambling cute. There was a difference. Probably. He'd have to analyze that later.

"Right, um, the limit." He cleared his throat, trying to remember how to form coherent sentences. "Think of it like a cheerleading routine."

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Just... bear with me." He sketched a quick graph. "When you're doing a flip, there's a point where you're neither going up nor coming down, right? That's kind of like this limit—it's approaching a point where the function isn't quite doing either thing."

"Did you just... learn cheerleading terms to explain calculus to me?"

Heat crept up his neck. "I may have watched some videos. For educational purposes."

"That's..." you trailed off, looking at him with an expression he couldn't quite calculate. "That's actually really sweet."

"Oh... uhm, I'm just trying to be a good tutor," he said, but his heart was doing something strange, something he'd never felt before. It definitely defied all known laws of physics.

"Well, Mr. Good Tutor," you leaned closer, and he caught another whiff of your perfume, "explain it to me again. Using more cheer analogies."

And so he did, drawing parallels between derivatives and tumbling passes, using formations to explain functions, and somehow, the math started making sense. By the end of the session, you'd not only grasped the concept but had also taught him the proper terms for various stunts. A fair trade, he thought, even if the librarian had shushed you both multiple times.

As you packed up your books, you paused, twirling your pencil in a way that completely distracted him from his thoughts. "Hey, we have a big game this Friday. Against State. I'll be cheering, obviously."

"Oh." He began cleaning his glasses, a nervous habit you'd come to find oddly endearing. "That's... good luck?"

"I'm inviting you, dummy." You rolled your eyes, but your smile was warm. "You should come watch. See how the other half lives."

"The other half meaning...?"

You gave him a look. "People who don't spend their Friday nights solving equations for fun."

"I... um..." A faint blush rose on his cheeks as he fumbled with his glasses. "I've never really been to a game before."

"Then it's time you finally have the full college experience." You shouldered your bag, then leaned down to write something on his notebook. "Here's my number. So you can text me when you get there. I'll make sure to wave at you during our halftime routine."

Before he could manage a response that wasn't completely pathetic, you were gone in a swish of pleated skirt and floral perfume, leaving him staring at your phone number like it was a problem set from the deepest reaches of abstract algebra.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡♡ ⋆｡°✩

Satoru spent the next three days debating whether or not to text you, writing and rewriting messages that never got sent. What was the protocol here? Was there a specific formula for how long to wait? Should he reference tutoring to keep it professional? 

In the end, you'd asked someone in his physics course for his number and texted him first,

You: Hope you're still planning to come to the game tomorrow! Look for me in the front of the formation.

He stared at his phone for so long his screen went dark. Then, taking a deep breath, he typed:

Satoru: Should I bring my textbook to study during halftime?

Your response was immediate: NO omg spare me! No books allowed! Just come watch me flip through the air.

Satoru: I'll try to come. Is there a dress code?

You: Great! Promise I'll make it worth your while & No dress code. But if you ask me, I'd say wear something blue. It suits your eyes.

Suits my eyes? he thought, a strange warmth spreading through him as he starred at the text. He’d never considered his eyes particularly noteworthy. They were just…blue. Nothing like yours, which were…well, yours were something else entirely. He couldn't quite describe them, but they were captivating, drawing him in like an infinite decimal, endlessly fascinating and impossible to fully comprehend. His own eyes, by comparison, felt plain, almost…functional.

Stop. He was overthinking this. It was just a game. He was just going to watch you cheer. That was all.

And that's how Satoru found himself standing in front of his mirror on Friday night, wearing the only casual clothes he owned — dark jeans and a blue button-down his sister had forced him to buy. Though he kept his favorite sweater vest over it. He'd even attempted to style his usually messy white hair, but it still fell in his eyes no matter what he did.

Walking into the packed stadium felt like stepping into another world. He had never been to a college game before — his weekends usually involved physics journals and quiet library corners, not roaring crowds and marching bands.

He found a seat near the front, as your text had instructed, and immediately spotted you warming up with the rest of the team. The energy you brought to math was nothing compared to this. Your movements were precise, athletic, stunning. Your uniform shimmered under the stadium lights and your smile could have lit up the entire campus.

When the game began, he tried to follow the action on the field, he really did. But his eyes kept gravitating towards you, leading your squad through each cheer. He found himself analyzing the physics of your movements — the perfect parabolic arc of your jumps, the calculated precision of each flip, the way you seemed to defy gravity itself when thrown into the air.

But it was during halftime that his brain truly short-circuited. Your squad took the field for their main routine, and there you were, front and center, exactly as promised. He watched in awe as you were lifted into complicated formations, your movements so graceful they made his carefully ordered world tilt on its axis. When you pulled off a series of flips that seemed to defy gravity, he actually found himself calculating the rotational velocity in his head, just to make sense of how you'd done it.

You spotted him in the crowd during one sequence, flashing him a smile that made him forget every equation he'd ever memorized from his mental hard drive. Your eyes met his just before you were launched into another stunt, and he swore his heart momentarily flatlined, a zero on the number line of his existence, until you landed safely.

Even from the bleachers, he could see how the effort brought a lovely pink blush to your cheeks, and yet you made it all look so effortless. You were radiant, breathtaking in a way that no mathematical formula could ever quantify. And in that moment, watching you shine in your element, Satoru realized he was in serious trouble. 

After the routine, you broke away from your squad and made your way up to where he sat. Your face was still flushed, loose strands of hair clinging to your neck, and even slightly out of breath, you were the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

"So?" you asked, dropping onto the bench beside him. "How'd I do? Any notes on my rotational mechanics, professor?" Your attempt at a teasing smile turned into a slight wince as you rolled your shoulder.

"Are you okay?" His hands hover uncertainly near your shoulder.

"Just a bit sore. That last lift was..." You rolled your shoulder again, grimacing.

Without thinking, Satoru shrugged off his sweater vest and draped it over your shoulders. "You'll catch a cold." He noticed how the cooling sweat had left your arms covered in goosebumps. His vest was ridiculously large on you, but something about seeing you wrapped in his clothes made his heart do strange things in his chest.

"My hero." You smiled tiredly and pulled the vest tighter around you. It smelled like him, like clean laundry and whatever subtly pleasant cologne he wore. "But you didn't answer my question. What did you think?"

"I think you broke all known laws of physics out there. Your trajectory during that last flip sequence was..." He caught himself rambling on about angles and momentum and quickly changed course. "You were amazing."

You leaned your head against his shoulder, the simple gesture making his breath catch. "Thanks for coming. It's nice to see a familiar face in the crowd."

"You have plenty of people watching you," he said , hesitantly letting his arm settle around your shoulders when you shivered slightly. "The whole stadium was cheering for you."

"Yeah, but..." you paused, and he could feel your smile against his shoulder. "Somehow, seeing your face out there made me the happiest. Especially since I know this isn't really your scene."

"I'm glad I came," he said. "Though I did bring flash cards, just in case."

Your laugh was warm against his neck. "Of course you did, you giant nerd." There was unmistakable affection in your voice that made his pulse quicken.

"Someone has to keep your GPA up." He was proud that his voice remained steady, even as you snuggled closer into his side.

"Mmm, about that..." You stifled a yawn. "I might need extra help with derivatives next week."

"Of course." Satoru tried to ignore how right it felt to have you leaning against him. "Same time as always."

✮ ⋆ ˚｡♡ ⋆｡°✩

The following week, something had shifted between you. Maybe it was because he'd seen you in your element, or because you were still wearing his sweater vest (which you'd "forgotten" to return), but the usual study room felt different somehow. Warmer. More intimate.

You'd chosen to sit closer to him than usual, close enough that your arm brushed his whenever you reached for your calculator all while the light, floral scent of your shampoo kept pulling his focus away from the equations.

"So, if we take the derivative here…" he began, but lost his train of thought when you leaned closer to see what he was writing, your ponytail brushing against his shoulder.

"Like this?" You picked up your pencil to attempt the problem, your free hand absently playing with the sleeve of his sweater vest you wore. 

He had to clear his throat before speaking. "Almost. Here, let me show you." His hand covered yours as he guided your pencil through the correct steps, and he couldn't help but notice how soft your skin was, or how neither of you pulled away even after the equation was solved.

"You're a really good teacher, you know?" you said quietly, your hand still beneath his. "I actually understand this stuff now." 

The proud smile you gave him made his heart flutter in his chest. Somehow, making you understand calculus felt more significant than any academic achievement he'd ever earned.

"You know," you said, finally pulling your hand away from his to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, "you help me so much with all this. I feel like I should do something for you in return."

His glasses fogged up slightly as he rushed to respond. "Oh! No, you don't have to—I mean, this is... I enjoy—"

"Come on, there must be something." You turned in your chair to face him. "Oh! Do you need help meeting someone? Like, dating-wise?"

Satoru nearly chocked on air. "What?"

"Yeah! I mean, I could introduce you to someone! Actually, Sarah from my squad was just saying how smart guys are totally her type—"

"I'm not—" he started, then stopped, his cheeks flushing. "That is…I'm already…there's someone I…"

"Oh? Tell me! Who's the lucky girl?" You tried to keep your voice light and cheerful even as something heavy settled in your chest. You weren't sure why the thought of Satoru being interested in someone made your stomach twist so uncomfortably. After all, it made sense — he was brilliant, kind, and underneath those sweater vests and thick glasses, he was actually really handsome. Of course he'd have feelings for someone.

"It's... complicated. She's way out of my league. Popular, athletic, beautiful..." He trailed off, adjusting his glasses.

"Satoru Gojo," you said, poking his arm, ignoring the way your heart seemed to sink with each word he spoke about this mystery girl, "are you holding out on me? Come on, spill! Who is she? Maybe I can help—" Even as you offered, you realized you really, really didn't want to help him get together with anyone else.

"We should probably get back to derivatives," he cut in quickly, his face now completely red. "Don't you have a exam next week?"

"Right. Yeah. The exam." You turned back to your textbook, trying to focus on the equations that suddenly seemed blurry. 

You found yourself stealing glances at him as he explained the next problem, wondering about this girl who had caught his attention. Was she in one of his advanced physics classes? Someone who could actually understand all the complex theories he got so excited about? The thought made your chest ache, like a bruise blooming beneath your ribs.

Satoru seemed equally distracted. His usually clear explanations were interrupted by nervous pauses whenever your hands accidentally brushed. He kept adjusting his glasses, and somehow managed to knock over his pencil three times in the span of five minutes.

"Sorry," he mumbled after the third time, both of you reaching for the pencil at the same time and quickly pulling back when your fingers touched. "I'm not usually this... I mean, I should be more..."

"It's okay." You smiled, even though your heart felt heavy. "We all have off days. Even brilliant tutors."

He looked at you then, really looked at you, and in his blue eyes, you saw a question hanging in the air between you. For a moment, it seemed like he might voice it, but then he quickly looked away, pushing his glasses up his nose.

"Maybe we should call it a day." You needed to get out of there, needed space to process why knowing he liked someone hurt so much. "I think my brain is full of derivatives anyway."

"Oh. Yes. Of course." Was it your imagination, or did he sound disappointed? "Same time next week?"

"Yeah," you managed, slinging your bag over your shoulder. You were still wearing his sweater vest, you realized. "Oh, I should give this back—"

"Keep it," he said quickly, then immediately looked like he regretted speaking. "I mean, if you want to. For studying. It might help with... derivatives."

"Derivatives. Right." You hugged the vest closer. "Well, thanks for today." You hesitated at the door, fingers playing nervously with the soft fabric of the vest. "Oh, um... we have another game next Friday. Against Eastern. If you're not too busy, maybe you could come? You don't have to, obviously, but it was nice having you there last time."

"I'll be there." And those simple words made you feel lighter than air.

"Great," you said. "And good luck with... you know. Your crush and everything." 

You hurried out before he could respond, missing the way he watched you leave with a longing expression, or how he whispered "You have no idea" to the empty study room.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡♡ ⋆｡°✩

The next Friday came quickly, and true to his word, Satoru was there in the same spot as last time, his blue eyes following your every movement. The game was going well, the energy in the stadium electric, and your squad was nailing every routine.

Then came the halftime show.

Everything started perfectly — the music, the formations, the stunts all flowing together just as practiced. You caught Satoru's eye just before your final sequence, his presence somehow both calming and exciting at the same time. But then something went wrong.

Your base thrower put too much power into the toss. You felt it the moment you left his hands. Too much height, too much force. Your trained body tried to adjust in the air, but the angle was off. Instead of landing cleanly in the waiting arms of your teammates, you came down awkwardly, taking most of the impact on your left side.

The crowd gasped. You bounced up immediately, muscle memory and pride making you finish the routine with a smile, even as pain shot through your shoulder and hip. Your squad mates shot you concerned looks, but you waved them off.

But as soon as the music ended and the crowd's attention returned to the game, you felt the full effect of the fall. Your vision swam slightly, and your left arm didn't want to move quite right. Still, you maintained your smile, not wanting to worry anyone.

After the game, you tried to slip away unnoticed, your shoulder still hurting from the bad landing, when Jake — your base thrower — cornered you near the locker rooms.

"Hey, wait up!" Jake had been trying to get your attention for weeks, his throws getting more aggressive as if he wanted to prove something. "You okay? That last stunt was pretty intense."

"I'm fine," you said curtly, taking a step back. "Though maybe next time try not to throw me into orbit?"

He moved closer, using his height to crowd your space. "Come on, don't be like that. I was just trying to make you look good out there. You know I'd never hurt you on purpose." His voice dropped lower as he leaned in. "Maybe I could make it up to you? There's a party at my place tonight..."

"I said I'm fine." You tried to step around him, but he blocked your path with his arm against the wall. "Jake, back off."

"Why are you being so cold? Everyone knows you're the best flyer on the squad, I was just trying to show that off. Besides," his eyes narrowed slightly, "I've seen how you've been spending time with that nerdy tutor. What's his deal anyway?"

"That's none of your—"

"Is there a problem here?"

Satoru's voice cut through the scene, surprisingly firm for someone who usually stumbled over casual greetings. He stepped between you and Jake, and for the first time, you realized just how physically imposing Satoru actually was. His usual oversized sweaters and shy demeanor had always made him seem smaller somehow, but standing next to Jake, you could see that Satoru was actually taller, his shoulders just as broad. Something about the way he positioned himself — protective, solid, unmovable — made your heart race.

"This is none of your business," Jake snapped, but you noticed how he took a small step back, clearly reassessing the situation now that he was face-to-face with someone who matched him physically.

"When you throw my friend at dangerous velocities and then proceed to intimidate her?" Satoru's voice was cold in a way you'd never heard before. "That makes it my business."

"Your friend?" Jake scoffed. "Since when does a nerd like you—"

"Back. Off." Each word was precise, and though Satoru's voice remained quiet, there was steel beneath the softness. He shifted slightly, making sure you were completely shielded behind him.

Something in his tone must have registered because Jake finally stepped back, holding up his hands. "Whatever, man. Didn't realize she had a bodyguard." He shot you one last look before walking away. "See you at practice."

The moment Jake was gone, Satoru turned to you, his stern expression melting into concern. "Are you okay? That landing looked bad, and now this... Do you need to report him? I can go with you to—"

"I'm okay," you said. "Just sore. And annoyed. Jake's been... difficult lately."

"He shouldn't have thrown you like that. The angle was completely wrong and the force way too much. I calculated the trajectory and it was at least thirty percent more power than necessary for—" He caught himself rambling and adjusted his glasses. "Sorry. I just... I was worried."

You couldn't help but smile at how quickly he'd switched from intimidating protector back to your adorably nervous tutor. It was also…endearing. And it did something strange to your insides, a fluttery sensation, like a thousand tiny butterflies had suddenly taken flight in your stomach. It was a feeling you couldn't quite name, but it made you want to lean closer to him, to thank him, to…something. You weren't sure what.

"Don't apologize. It's cute when you get all mathematical about things. And... thank you. For stepping in like that."

He rubbed the back of his neck, clearly flustered by your praise. "Um, are you... hungry?"

You smiled. "Starving, actually."

✮ ⋆ ˚｡♡ ⋆｡°✩

You and Satoru headed to the diner around the corner from the stadium, a cozy, retro place you loved — all chrome and neon, red vinyl booths, and a jukebox humming in the corner. You slid into a booth while Satoru ordered milkshakes and burgers for both of you, and somehow you weren't surprised that he remembered your favorite flavor from that one time you'd mentioned it during a study session weeks ago.

You talked about everything. Silly stories, your cheerleading, his lab accidents and he even revealed that he rock climbed in his spare time, which, you realized, explained a lot. You found yourself laughing more than you had in ages, and every time you made him laugh in return, that warm feeling in your chest grew stronger. 

Before you knew it, two hours had passed, your milkshakes long empty and the burgers nothing but crumbs. The diner had mostly emptied out, the neon lights outside casting colorful shadows across your table.

"Is that what you want to do?" you said as your eyes fell on the physics textbook peeking out of Satoru's bag while you stole one of his remaining fries, "After college, I mean? Something with physics?"

"Yeah, I'm hoping to get into the quantum physics program. They only accept a few students each year, but their research on quantum entanglement is insane. They're working on this project with superconductors that could change how we think about wave function collapse. And their particle accelerator facility is one of the best in the country, so I really hope to..." he trailed off, suddenly looking shy. "Sorry, I'm probably boring you."

"No, not at all!" You found yourself genuinely interested in the way his whole face brightened when talking about physics. "It's nice seeing someone who knows exactly what they want."

"What about you?" he asked softly, pushing another fry your way. "Any plans?"

You sighed, slumping back in the booth. "Honestly? I have no idea. Something that doesn't involve math, that's for sure." You tried to laugh it off. "Maybe communications? Or business? I just... sometimes it feels like everyone else has it all figured out."

"You're actually better at math than you think. You just approach problems differently. More creatively. Like how you connected those derivatives to your cheer routines last week? That was smart."

You felt your face warm at his words and fidgeted with your straw wrapper. "You're just saying that because you're my tutor."

"I'm saying it because it's true." The firmness in his voice made you look up. His blue eyes met yours with an intensity that made you feel truly seen. "And whatever you choose to do, you'll be amazing at it. You're brilliant in ways that can't be measured by math."

Something in your chest squeezed at his words, at how completely sincere he sounded. No one had ever looked at you quite like that before, like they could see past the cheerleader uniform to something more. You opened your mouth to respond, but found yourself at a loss for words. Seeming to sense your nervousness, Satoru cleared his throat and changed the subject. "So, um... about earlier. Does that happen often? With Jake, I mean?"

You let out a heavy sigh. "Jake's been... persistent. We went on one date last semester. Probably the worst decision I've ever made. He spent the whole time talking about himself and got angry when I wouldn't kiss him goodnight." You stirred your melting milkshake absently. "Ever since then, he's been acting like he has some kind of claim on me. Using our stunts to show off, getting too close during practice."

"Has he hurt you before? During practice?"

"Not exactly, but..." you hesitated. "Sometimes the way he throws me feels more like he's trying to prove something than actually do the routine right. Like today."

"You should report him. What he's doing isn't safe. If he's letting his personal feelings affect—" Satoru's hands tightened around his milkshake glass. "Sorry, I just... I don't like the idea of him putting you at risk."

You paused at the sudden intensity of his words, and somehow they made your heart melt like ice cream on a summer day. "You're so sweet," you said quietly.

"I'm just worried," he replied, then quickly added, "As your tutor, I mean. Can't have my student getting injured."

"Right. As my tutor," you echoed, trying to ignore the strange ache at his words. "Of course."

The walk back to your dorm was quiet but comfortable, the night air cool against your skin. Satoru walked close enough that your arms occasionally brushed, sending little sparks through you each time. You found yourself walking slower than necessary, trying to stretch out these last few moments with him. When you reached your building, you turned to face him, suddenly nervous. 

"Thanks for everything tonight. The rescue, the dinner, just... everything."

"Anytime," he said softly, the streetlight catching his blue eyes, making them seem impossibly bright beneath his white lashes.

Before you could overthink it, you rose on your tiptoes and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. His skin was warm under your lips, and you could feel him freeze at the contact. When you pulled back, his face was completely red, one hand touching the spot where you'd kissed him like he couldn't quite believe it had happened. His glasses were slightly fogged up, and something about how adorably flustered he looked made you brave.

"Can I ask you something?" The words tumbled out before you could stop them. "Have you... I mean, do you have much experience? With girls?" You immediately wanted to die of embarrassment. "Sorry, that's so personal, you don't have to—"

"No!" he blurted, then winced at how loud that came out. "I mean, not really. I've been... focused on academics mostly. And girls don't usually..." he trailed off, adjusting his glasses in that nervous way of his. "Why do you ask?"

Your heart was pounding so hard you were sure he could hear it. "Can I..." You swallowed hard, gathering every bit of strength you had. "Would it be okay if I kissed you?"

His eyes widened behind his glasses, lips parting in surprise. For a moment, he seemed to be running calculations in his head, processing your words like data input. Then, almost imperceptibly, he nodded.

Rising on your tiptoes again, you gently pressed your lips to his. He was completely still at first, seemingly frozen in shock, and for a terrifying moment you thought you'd made a horrible mistake. But then his hand came up to cup your face, surprisingly steady for someone who'd been so nervous moments before, and suddenly he was kissing you back.

And oh — for someone with "not really" any experience, he kissed like he'd been thinking about this for ages. His other hand slid to your waist, pulling you closer as he deepened the kiss with a confidence that made your knees weak. Your hands fisted in his sweater vest as his thumb stroked your cheek, and you couldn't help the small sound that escaped when he gently caught your lower lip between his.

When you finally pulled apart, you were both breathing hard. His glasses were completely fogged up now, but you could still see the intensity in his eyes behind them. He hadn't moved away completely, his hand still cupping your face, your bodies close enough that you could feel the slight trembling in his breathing as you tried to process how your adorably awkward tutor had just given you the best kiss of your life. 

"See you at our next tutoring session?" His thumb brushed your cheek one last time before he slowly pulled back.

You could only manage a nod, your mind still fuzzy from the kiss. As you watched him walk away, occasionally glancing back at you with that sweet, slightly dazed smile, you realized math had suddenly become your favorite subject.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡♡ ⋆｡°✩

You'd been staring at the same equation for ten minutes now, but none of the numbers made sense. How could they, when all you could think about was that kiss from the other night? The way Satoru's hand had felt on your face, how confidently he'd pulled you closer, the soft brush of his thumb against your cheek—

"Are you okay? You seem distracted."

His voice snapped you back to reality. You were in your usual study room, but everything felt different now. The space seemed smaller somehow, more crowded. The fact that it was unusually warm for spring didn't help. Satoru had rolled up the sleeves of his button-down to his elbows, his sweater vest abandoned over the back of his chair. You'd never realized how distracting forearms could be until now.

"I'm fine!" you said too quickly, forcing your eyes back to your textbook. "Just... struggling with this problem."

"Here, let me show you." He leaned closer and reached for your pencil, his hand brushing yours in the process. You both froze at the contact, the air between you growing thick with unspoken thoughts.

"Sorry," he murmured, but didn't move away. This close, you could see the faint freckles dusting his cheeks and nose, how his blue eyes darted briefly to your lips before returning to the textbook.  

You weren't sure who was actually more distracted. You, who couldn't stop thinking about that kiss, or him, who kept adjusting his glasses and clearing his throat whenever your hands accidentally touched. The usual comfortable silence of your study sessions had turned electric, charged with everything neither of you were saying.

"Maybe we should take a break," you suggested, your voice coming out slightly breathless when he reached across you to grab an eraser, his arm brushing your shoulder.

"Right. Yeah. Good idea." He leaned back in his chair, both of you falling quiet. You could practically see him thinking, the way he always did before solving a complex problem, while your own thoughts kept drifting back to that kiss, to how surprisingly confident he'd been—

"About the other night—" you both started at the same time, then laughed nervously.

"You go first," he said, adjusting his glasses.

You took a deep breath. "I liked it." Your face felt hot, but you forced yourself to continue. "I mean the kiss. It was good. Like, really good. Which kind of surprised me because you said you didn't have much experience, and I was wondering..."

"If I lied?" He gave a small, self-ironic laugh. "No, I meant what I said. I haven't... I mean, there haven't been many girls. Actually," he cleared his throat, looking everywhere but at you, "there haven't been any. Girls, I mean. Before."

Your eyes widened. "Wait, was that your first kiss?"

"No! I mean… I've kissed a few girls before, but nothing serious. I was always too focused on academics to really... pursue anything."

Pursue anything? What did that even mean? Your mind was already racing with thoughts of how much you wanted to pursue everything with him. The study room suddenly felt too small, too warm. You stood up abruptly, needing to move, to do something with this nervous energy coursing through you.

After pacing a few steps, you turned back to him. "Would you... want to kiss me again?" The words came out in a rush, and you immediately wanted to take them back when you saw his stunned expression. "Sorry, that was probably too forward. If you don't want to, that's totally okay, I just thought—"

Your rambling stopped as Satoru stood and walked to the door behind you. He turned the lock with a soft click that made your breath catch. When he turned back to you, there was that confidence again, the kind that made you weak in the knees.

And then you were against the bookshelf, his hands cupping your face as his mouth found yours. This kiss was different from your first — more urgent, less hesitant. One of his hands slid into your hair, the other dropped to your waist, pulling you closer as he deepened the kiss.

You gasped against his lips, your hands gripping his shirt as he kissed you like he'd been thinking about this all day — which, based on how distracted you'd both been during studying, he probably had.

He pressed your back further against the bookshelf, the force of his kiss sending several books tumbling to the floor. Neither of you paid any attention. You were too focused on his hand tightening in your hair, the surprising strength of his grip on your waist.

Then, without warning, his hands slid down to your thighs, and he lifted you effortlessly. You gasped in surprise. All those times you’d wondered about the strength of his broad shoulders hidden beneath his sweater vests… turns out you hadn't been imagining things. He carried you to the study table, setting you gently on the edge. 

You wrapped your legs around his waist instinctively as he stepped between them, one of his hands bracing on the table beside you while the other cupped your face. His kiss deepened, his tongue tracing your lips before slipping inside. "Is this okay?" he murmured against your mouth, always thoughtful even in moments like this.

You nodded, pulling him closer by his shirt. "More than okay."

"Would you want me to—I mean… can I... try something?" 

Try? What does he want to try? Your pulse quickened and you simply nodded, not trusting your voice, already breathless from how he said 'try' like you were his favorite research subject.

His lips found yours again as he gently pressed you back against the table, your math notes scattering forgotten to the floor. His mouth moved to your neck, drawing a soft gasp from you while one hand traced down your side with surprising confidence, his body fitting perfectly between your legs. And you began to wonder, for someone who claimed to be inexperienced, Satoru seemed to know exactly what he was doing — and if this was him being inexperienced, heaven help you when he gained some confidence.

His mouth then traveled lower and lower, lifting one of your legs up over his shoulder so that he could kiss down your inner thighs and your last coherent thought, before his lips were on you, was that some lessons were definitely best learned outside textbooks.

Everything that followed were barely contained curses and moans as Satoru pushed two fingers inside, pressing deep and slow while his tongue worked on you. It wasn't long before you came, you back arched, pressing closer to him as you reached your climax, your thighs involuntarily closing around his head. But he was quick to react, grabbing your thighs and spreading them apart, his tongue still on you, drawing out every last shudder of your orgasm until you thought you couldn't take it anymore, your fingers tightening in his hair, not sure if you wanted him closer or to pull him off you.

It took you a few moments to come back to reality. Your breathing heavy, body still trembling as you tried to process what just happened. Your brilliant, sweet, cute, nerdy math tutor had just made you cum on that table in the study room of your college in a matter of minutes — and it was better than any long sex you'd ever had with anyone else.

Satoru slowly eased his fingers out of you and kissed your thighs again, as if he couldn't get enough of you. You didn't say anything for a long time, so he must have been getting nervous, because then he asked, "Was that... okay?"

You pushed yourself up on your elbows to look at him. He adjusted his glasses, which were clearly covered with something liquid you were sure came from you, in that adorably nervous way of his.

"Okay?" You let out a breathless laugh. "How are you so... I mean, where did you learn to...?"

"I'm good at… studying."

You were silent.

"Hah?"

✮ ⋆ ˚｡♡ ⋆｡°✩

The days following your tutoring session in the study room felt like walking through a dream. Neither of you had explicitly talked about what happened — what it meant, what you were to each other now. Your study sessions continued like always, like he hadn’t made you cum on this precise table with his mouth just a few days before. So much for being inexperienced.

Satoru remained surprisingly composed, if a bit more touchy than before. His hand lingered on your lower back when he leaned in to check your work, his fingers brushing strands of hair behind your ear when you concentrated. You caught him watching you with that intense blue gaze more often, though he'd quickly look away and adjust his glasses when you met his eyes.

You figured he was waiting until after your upcoming exam, not wanting to distract you more than he already did. Though honestly, how were you supposed to focus on math when all you could think about was his hands, his mouth, the way he'd— okay, let's not go there.

At least cheerleading practice had gotten better. Jake had done a complete 180° shift in behavior. No more aggressive throws, no more hovering around after practice, not even the usual suggestive comments. It was almost unsettling how quickly he'd backed off, though you weren't about to question the peace.

It was during one of your regular study sessions, while you were working through practice problems for your upcoming exam, that Satoru finally brought it up.

"How has Jake been lately?"

"Oh, uhm… actually, really good. Well, not good exactly, more like... absent?" You tapped your own pencil against your textbook thoughtfully. "He barely speaks to me anymore, which is weird considering how persistent he was before. It's like someone scared him off or..." You paused, the pieces suddenly clicking together. "Satoru, did you say something to him?"

He pushed his glasses up, a tell you'd learned meant he was either nervous or hiding something. "We may have had a conversation."

"A conversation," you repeated flatly.

"About physics." The corner of his mouth twitched. "Specifically about force, momentum, and the potential consequences of their misuse."

"Satoru!"

"What?" He finally looked up at you, and there was that flash of confidence again, the kind that made your heart flutter. "I simply explained some basic principles. Like how someone with my understanding of applied physics could theoretically calculate exactly how much force it would take to—"

"You threatened him with physics?" You weren't sure whether to be horrified or impressed.

"It was more like an educational discussion." His blue eyes met yours, surprisingly serious. "I don't like seeing people I care about being put in dangerous situations."

Your heart stuttered at his words. People he cared about. That was... something. Maybe not a definition of what you were to each other, but definitely something.

"So," you said, trying to keep your voice steady despite your racing pulse, "you care about me?"

His hand stilled on the page. For a moment, he just looked at you, and the intensity in his gaze made you forget how to breathe. "Didn't what happened in this room last week make that fairly obvious?"

Heat rushed to your face at the memory. "We haven't really talked about that."

"No," he agreed softly. "We haven't."

The air between you grew thick with longing. Your practice problems lay forgotten as you both gravitated closer, drawn together like opposing charges in one of his physics equations.

"I wanted to wait," he admitted. "Until after your exam. I didn't want to..." He swallowed hard as you shifted closer. "To distract you."

"You're always distracting," you whispered, close enough now to see the flecks of darker blue in his eyes. "With your stupid glasses and your physics metaphors and the way you explain math like it's poetry."

His hand came up to cup your face, thumb brushing your cheek in that way that made you melt. "We should probably talk about this properly."

"Probably," you agreed, already leaning in.

"After your exam," he murmured against your lips.

"After my exam," you echoed, and then his mouth was on yours, and for a while, neither of you did much talking at all.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡♡ ⋆｡°✩

You almost floated through the library's quiet halls, clutching your exam results to your chest. The paper was slightly crumpled from how many times you'd unfolded and refolded it, just to make sure the grade was real. Third highest in the course. You. In maths. It felt surreal.

The library was nearly empty, everyone else either at the game or starting their weekend celebrations. You should have been there too, in your uniform leading cheers, but your shoulder still hurt slightly from that bad landing last week. As much as you hated missing a game, the forced rest had given you extra time to study, which clearly paid off.

Besides, you knew exactly where to find him — the same spot where he always studied on Friday nights, tucked away in the far corner between the physics and mathematics sections.

Sure enough, there he was, surrounded by his usual fortress of textbooks. His white hair caught the warm light from the desk lamp, falling into his eyes as he bent over what looked like quantum mechanics homework. He hadn't noticed you yet, and for a moment you just watched him, feeling your heart swell with affection for this brilliant, ridiculous man who had somehow made you understand derivatives.

"Guess who got an A?" you announced, dropping into the chair across from him.

Satoru's head snapped up, his blue eyes widening behind his glasses. "You got your results?"

You slid the paper across to him, unable to contain your smile. "Third highest in the course. Can you believe it?"

He scanned the paper, and the pride that bloomed across his face made your chest tight. "I can absolutely believe it." His smile was soft, genuine. "You worked so hard for this."

"I had a pretty amazing tutor," you said. "Thank you. For believing I could do this even when I didn't."

"You did all the work. I just helped you see what was already there." But as he spoke, you noticed something in his expression — a tightness around his eyes, the slight slump of his shoulders. Now that your excitement was settling, you could see his exhaustion.

"Are you okay? You look... stressed."

He let out a long breath, running his hand through his already messy white hair. "That obvious, huh?" He gestured to the complex equations covering his notebook. "I've been working on this quantum mechanics assignment. There's this one problem that's just..." He trailed off, frustration evident in his voice.

"Wait, something the great Satoru Gojo can't solve?" you teased gently, but your smile faded when you saw the genuine worry in his eyes. "How long have you been working on this?"

"Since..." He glanced at his watch and winced. "Before sunrise?"

You looked at the dark windows, realizing the sun had long since set. "You've been here all day?"

"Had to get it right." He stifled a yawn. "It's an important assignment and I just can't seem to get it right."

"You need a break."

"But I'm so close, I can feel it. If I just—" His words cut off as you disappeared under the table. He looked down, eyes widening behind his glasses as you crawl under the table to his side and settled between his legs.

"What are you..." His voice caught as your hands slid up his thighs. "Someone could—"

"The library's empty." Your fingers were already working on his belt. "And you need to relax."

"This is a terrible idea," he said, but his breathing had already grown uneven.

"Then tell me to stop." You looked up at him through your lashes, enjoying how his pupils dilated. Instead of answering, his hand slid into your hair, and you took that as permission to help him forget about quantum mechanics for a while.

His breath hitched as you undid the button of his pants, the zipper sliding down with a soft hiss. His cock was bigger than you'd thought, and your eyes widened slightly as you took in the sight, your fingers tracing the length, feeling his veins beneath your touch. Why is it always the quiet guys with the biggest cocks? 

You moved slowly at first, wanting to give him the full experience if this was to be his first blowjob ever, your breath ghosting over him before you finally took him into your mouth. You started with just the tip, your tongue swirling around it, tasting his precum, before licking along the sensitive underside of his shaft, and then sealing your lips around him.

"Oh god, that's... that's—fuck it’s so good." His head tilted back, eyes closing, his voice strained with the effort of keeping quiet. 

His hand tightened in your hair, not pushing but holding, gently guiding your movements. With his other hand, he gripped his math notes on the table, the pages crinkling under his tight grasp as if they were his last hold on sanity.

You took him deep and Satoru swore he could see stars. His moans became more urgent, less restrained. "Yes, just like that, oh fuck, feels so good." His words broken by throaty moans that he tried to muffle with his free hand pressed against his mouth. "You're going to make me—oh god, so close." 

His thighs tensed under your hands, his breathing becoming ragged. You could feel every shudder, every twitch of his body. "I'm gonna— I'm—" His words cut off as his orgasm hit, his body tensing, his hand holding your head firmly but gently as he spilled into your mouth, his cum hot against your tongue. "Oh fuck, oh fuck," he gasped, a series of curses tumbling from his lips and amidst the swearing, you swear you caught a fragment of a mathematical theorem, though you might have misheard.

Afterwards, his body trembled, his breathing heavy and uneven, his grip on your hair loosening as he slumped back in his chair, completely spent. "God, that was... fuck, that was amazing."

"Still thinking about that assignment?" you asked innocently,  emerging from under the desk to find him looking like a mess, with his face flushed, glasses askew, and his white hair a bit damp around his forehead as he tried to regain his breathing.

"I... I can't even remember my own name right now." He pulled you into his lap for a kiss. His thumb traced your cheek as he kissed you gently, making your heart flutter in your chest.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡♡ ⋆｡°✩

A few weeks later, your head rested comfortably in Satoru's lap as you watched him read through his graded quantum mechanics assignment. Warm sunshine filtered through cherry blossoms above, casting dappled shadows across your shared blanket beneath the old tree on a lazy spring afternoon on campus. A gentle breeze carried the scent of fresh grass and early flowers, ruffling his white hair as he studied the papers held above you.

His glasses caught the sunlight, making his blue eyes look like summer sky caught in glass. Your own textbook lay forgotten beside you on the blanket. You were more interested in watching Satoru and the slight smile that played on his lips.

"So?" you finally asked, reaching up to poke his cheek. "How did you do?"

He looked down at you. "Perfect score." He tilted the paper so you could see the bold A marked in red at the top. 

"I knew you could do it!" you exclaimed, reaching up to cup his cheek. "My brilliant quantum genius." You sat up, turning to face him properly, your knees brushing his thighs on the blanket. "I am so proud of you. But I didn't expect less from my tutor."

He leaned into your touch, a slight blush coloring his cheeks. "Speaking of tutoring, have you checked your final grade for the semester?"

You had, actually — multiple times, still not quite believing it. "A solid A. Turns out I'm not so bad at maths."

"You were always good at it," he said softly, brushing a fallen petal from your shoulder. "You just needed someone to help you see it differently." He paused, adjusting his glasses in that endearingly nervous way of his, the lenses catching the golden afternoon light. "Though I have to admit, I'm a little sad our tutoring sessions are over."

"Who says they have to be?" You leaned into him. His arms immediately wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer. "I'm taking Advanced Calculus next semester."

His eyebrows shot up. "Voluntarily?"

"Well," you played with the collar of his sweater vest, "I heard the TA for that class is really cute. Bit of a nerd, but in a hot way. Plus, I have it on good authority that he's dating this amazing cheerleader…"

"Is he now?" His hands tightened on your waist. "Sounds like a lucky guy."

"Oh, he is." You leaned in to press a soft kiss to his cheek. "Though not as lucky as she is."

He caught your chin and tilted your face up to his. "I love you," he said simply, like it was the most natural thing in the world, like he hadn't just made your heart stop with those three words.

"I love you too," you whispered back, and when he kissed you, it was sweet and warm like the spring sunshine itself, perfect and precious as the moment suspended around you, there beneath the trees where your love had grown from equations into something far more beautiful.

You intertwined your fingers with his, loving how perfectly they fit together, and couldn't help but smile at how perfectly everything had worked out. Who would have thought that one failing grade in maths would lead to this? To finding love in derivatives and fun in mathematics, to discovering that the quiet genius in the back of class would become your everything?

But then again, maybe it was all just simple math: one struggling student plus one brilliant tutor, multiplied by countless study sessions, divided by shy laughter and hesitant kisses, equals a love story that even mathematics couldn't complicate.

And that was an equation you were more than happy to solve.

masterlist + support my writing

author's note — thank you so much for reading !! to be honest, i've been feeling pretty stuck lately with my longer series, doubting my writing and wondering if i'd lost my spark or so. but i think this story is quite cute and i had so much fun writing it. there's just something so sweet about those library crushes, and falling in love between the pages of textbooks. hope you enjoyed it too !

for more stories check out my masterlist. your support means the world to me. until next time, lots of love & happy early valentine's day <3

ps: if you want to get notifications for future updates, you can join my taglist here !

tags — @fayuki @starmapz @snowsilver2000 @starlightanyaaa @sxnkuna

@cocomanga @nanamis-baker @rosso-seta @sugurbo @janbannan

@bloopsstuff @ihearttoru @momoewn @yokosandesu @90s-belladonna

@fairygardenprincesss @juneslove21 @glenkiller338 @gojossugarcandy

© lostfracturess. do not repost, translate, or copy my work.

AAAAAAA finally finished watching trigun and stampede and read this wonderful fic cuz I LOVE KNIVES SM 🥹😭 idk why, but i ADORE villains so so much 😩

Don’t Call Me Friend

A fic in which you find a cynical man desperately needing medical attention

↳ Millions Knives/Reader

content warning. gender-neutral pronouns, afab reader, mild overstimulation, unprotected sex, profanity, shameless smut, slight fluff, alien genitalia, oral (m!receiving), fingering, creampie, knives has never seen a pussy in his life, probably missing some tags but it’s 8 in the am and im tired

this is a fic trade piece dedicated to @strbrmlk​! Go show them some love, they have lots of Knives content!

minors DNI

8.7k words

Keep reading

this is too cute for my angst-ridden heart ♥️😩 BUT SERIOUSLY THIS IS SO WHOLESOME 🥹

Sometimes, it’s just fun to mess with Sukuna.

He likes to think he’s got you figured out, like how he knows how to navigate each one of your antics like the back of his hand.

But right now, over ice cream, you decide to pull a fast one on him, keep him back on his toes and let him fester in the playfulness that sometimes slips from the relationship.

“Here kuna baby, try this,” you hum, passing him a spoonful of ice cream. He shrugs and leans over, taking the bite and chewing it thoughtfully.

“Pretty good.”

“Right?” You giggle, before wiping your spoon clean. “I didn’t think I’d like the bits of cookie but-“

“What the fuck was that?”

You quirk your brow as his raise in annoyance, looking at you angrily. “What was what, babe?”

“I know you didn’t just wipe your spoon clean,” he snaps. “Be so fucking for real.”

You giggle, “well… yeah… why wouldn’t I? I don’t want to eat your spit.”

“Eat my- WE MAKE OUT?!”

“That’s different,” you scoff. “That’s consensual. This was my spoon.”

His eyes are blown with annoyance as they look around your face for any indication that you’re full of shit and messing with him, but when you give him a simple shrug, he throws his spoon down and immediately grips your cheeks in his hands, pulling you into a messy, noisy kiss, which you squeal into. You taste the rocky road in his lips, and as much as you want to melt into the intense affection, to rile him up more, you bring yours hands to his chest to push him away.

“Kuna!” You gasp against his lips. “What’re you-“

“Look,” he snarls, pulling away angrily. “We’ve been together too long for us to think anything is gross. I refuse to let you think any part of me is gross. Dickhead. I’m perfect.”

“I was kidding!” You laugh, bringing your hands up to cup his cheeks. “There’s nothing in the world I find more attractive than you and your spit.”

Now, he lets out a gag and pulls a face at your words, “alright. Moods gone. You ruined it.” He shakes his head from your grip and pouts.

“Babyyyy,” you titter, grabbing and smushing his cheeks together while you nudge his nose. “There’s always a mood with you.”

“Yeah. And you constantly ruin it.”

as you like it (sequel to romeo ♱ juliet)

↳ gojo satoru/reader

bound by the dictates of the prophecy, the emperor contemplates whether retaining his wife or severing ties with her may be the sole path to fulfill his ambitions. yet, what he may fail to discern, is that the plague in his reign lies beyond what meets the eye

♱ genre. tragedy, revenge, period piece, royal au

♱ tags. 26k wc, extremely OOC, tyranny, emperor!gojo, empress!reader, (you will hate the reader!), unrequited love, religion (especially Catholicism), blasphemy, implied infidelity, violence, war, rebellion, misogyny, impregnation, smut, disease, gore, death, arson, and written in early modern english/archaic english

♱ notes. heavily inspired by anne boleyn's real-life story, and manhwas sister, i am the queen in this life and ten ways to get dumped by a tyrant, as well as shakespeare’s king henry V. direct quotes also derived from the movie the king. has no correlation to the original as you like it play except for the title, as i wanted a title to my r+j sequel that's still shakespeare-inspired :) i have plans to turn this into a regression series, so this will serve as the original story, and the series will be the reincarnation fic, but nothings set in stone yet. we'll see! for now, feedbacks are highly appreciated :')

masterlist. playlist. gallery. archaic grammar index.

EARLY MODERN ENGLISH -> MODERN ENGLISH VERSION

𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐒 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐄.

SATORU, Emperor of Caelum.

YOU, of the same order.

SUGURU, knight commander of the Imperial Order of Knights.

TOJI, Emperor of Astheryn.

NAOYA, a duke, cousin to Toji.

GENEVA, nurse to the empress.

MAXIMILIAN, advisor to the Caelan Emperor.

NANAMI, a nobleman. 

The Pope.

FRIAR MYCHAL, a Franciscan.

YUUTA, cousin to Satoru, exiled

A maid. 

A physician.

The Oracle. 

Citizens of Astheryn and Caelum; kinsfolk of both empires; the Imperial Court, Nobles, Guards, Watchmen, and Attendants

⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶♱⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄 

In a vast empire's might, an Emperor reigned,

Duty's veil his heart restrained.

Beside him, an Empress fair did stand,

Her love unmet, her heart unmanned.

Cold and still, his heart did lie;

Untouch’d by love's gentle sigh.

The Empress long’d for his affection true,

Yet his love remain’d a distant hue.

In shadows deep, her love did pine,

Bound by duty's rigid line.

As seasons passed, her love turned to ire,

A flower of vengeance, fuel’d by fire.

Now as our tale begins we see,

How love and duty bring us forth to tragedy.

⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶♱⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

THE LATE 15TH CENTURY

𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐈

Only slightly did you loosen up as the sequence of your steps were taken in slow but measured strides. Each footfall had a rhythm that was neither lacking in confidence nor hesitance, with your heels clicking on the marble floors and the sound of it echoing along the spacious hallway as if to remind every person within the vicinity that the Empress was arriving. You held your breath much to the tightness of your corset and tried to keep your emotions intact, taking a halt from walking knowing that your ladies-in-waiting were tailing you closely behind.

Two valiant knights stood by his door, offering a curtsy to their Empress the minute you had crossed their eyes. A knock on the door followed. Then, soon enough, you were granted a step forward inside your husband’s study. 

There he was, ensconced behind his desk amid copious piles of paperwork, his attention undivided by the woman who graced his study with her presence. His locks, reminiscent of Arctic snow, were meticulously arranged, accentuated by the resplendent black doublet he donned, adorned with intricate silver patterns upon the brocade cloth. His eyes, as blue as the sky and oceans alike, declined to meet the gaze of his own wife. 

“For what purpose art thou come?” he uttered.

Meanwhile, you made a swift curtsy and motioned for the attendants and knights to depart away, leaving the two of you alone. “I crave a word with thee, Your Majesty.”

His countenance appeared to congeal as he fixed his gaze upon you for several uncomfortable moments. "Of what matter?"

“Concerning the New Year's banquet, dear husband. It draweth nigh in a fortnight, and arrangements must be set in motion.” You stood squarely afore him, hands entwined afore you. A regal presence. A queenly figure, fashioned precisely to his desires. Such was the image the empire had embraced since your ascension to the throne. Before him stood the epitome of grace suited to that role. “Pray, what theme dost Your Majesty propose?” 

He closed the ledger he had been inscribing on, scrutinizing your features intently. “I harbor little fondness for such gatherings, yet the banquet is a necessary evil.” His gaze shifted towards your gown, meticulously crafted to complement your form, adorned with the same elaborate embroidery as his own attire, accented by a sizable silver cross adorning your neck like the good Christian you were. “The citizens already begin to take note of our opulence; thus, I eschew an excessiveness that may draw undue attention. Let it be lavish enough to suit our status, yet not overly extravagant. As for the theme, it ought to be black and silver to match our regalia.”

The Caelum regalia, once bedecked in innocent hues of white and blue, underwent a somber transformation to black and silver upon his ascension to the throne. Behind this alteration lay a tragic tale. Satoru, the man whom you addressed as husband, had first borne the title of Crown Prince before ascending to the imperial seat. His younger sister, the infamous maiden who met her demise alongside her lover, was bound to an ill-fated romance that purportedly quelled an age-old enmity between two ancestral foes.

The forbidden romance betwixt a scion of a Zen'in and a scioness of a Gojou, both of princely lineage, ignited strife between the Astheryn and Caelum Empires. With half a century of animosity between these bloodlines, a lust for supremacy, and an unyielding clash between nations, the discord erupted into a civil strife, ceasing solely with the ratification of a peace accord signed by the sovereigns of both empires.

Yet before all these tumultuous events unfolded, Satoru's ascent to the highest throne owed much to you. Though you were not his intended betrothed, you were a lady deeply enamored with the prince; with whom he divulged myriad fervent nights with. As the daughter of a duke whose lineage boasted mastery in the craft of forging fine swords and weaponry, and so well-versed in the art of warfare, he saw you fit to stand as his empress, prepared to reciprocate your erstwhile unrequited love through means of marriage. Howbeit, this accord came at the cost of you aiding him in his quest to unseat both his father and mother from their thrones. He loathed his parents just as strongly as he did Astheryn. The rulers preceding him were despotic tyrants, showing scant regard for kinship ties, and they exhibited no sorrow for the passing of the princess, which was a loss deeply felt by Satoru.

Satoru carried ambitions of ascending to the august throne of Caelum from a tender age, unwilling to await the natural demise of his father for ascension and instead, do it by means of force. He was prepared to imbrue his hands with his own kindred’s blood to sit at the highest throne, yet such a feat was no trifling matter. The civil unrest presented the opportune moment to execute his plans, spurred on all the more by his sister's untimely demise. With your military affiliations and strategic acumen, you aided him in orchestrating a coup d'état against his own kin. Ending it all with him, severing his father’s head with a sword, and you, killing his mother with a dose of poison. His other oppositions followed, and those who did not support his cause were offered a swift journey to hell through mass execution. Throughout these macabre events, you stood steadfast by his side, currying favor with the surviving nobility to fortify his position as emperor. Identifying traitors, you presented them for his judgment. In due course, you became his most trusted confidante, the sole woman deemed worthy to stand beside him on the day of his coronation, heralding the dawn of a new era for the empire. Thus, a new nation, a new sovereignty, and a new regalia were born.

“As thou wish, my liege.” With careful steps, you navigated his study, casting an appraising gaze upon the books lining his shelves before pausing behind him. He ought to discern that the banquet did not solely occupy your intentions that day. “Prithee, burden not thyself with all this paperwork.” Your lips brushed his ear. “Instead, shall I expect thee in my bedchamber this eve?” 

He tensed, drawing a deep breath to temper his emotions. You always seemed to know how to push his buttons—in good and bad ways. You played him like a fiddle as always. Indeed, he was well aware that your desires surpassed the scope of mere banquet arrangements. “Very well.”

The distant gaze he cast upon you pierced deeply. Eight long years of matrimony, and only now did he begin to exhibit such aloofness. Only now did such estrangement manifest. What sudden shift had befallen this marriage? You were not privy to the answer, yet you strived to deny it. Natheless, for the sake of your peace of mind, did you venture forth with your inquiry. “My liege, I wilt be so bold as to believe that thou dost not carry grudge against me.” Your eyes remained fixed upon his saintly face. “Do I speak true? For my failure to conceive the last time we—”

“‘Tis useless to harbor grudge over matters beyond control.” Displeasure thinned his lips. “What gain have I, to chastise thee merely because thou art barren?”

Pained by his words, you stepped away, quietly but firmly asserting, “...I am not barren.”

“Thou hast failed to conceive after eight years; to mine eyes, that qualifies as being barren.” He flipped back to the page he was perusing, resuming his writing.

Any trace of happiness that once adorned your mien now dissipated, and was replaced by the shadows of his cutting words. “Then, what plan shall thou construct if I fail to bear fruit?”

Satoru halted in his writing, his quill suspended in the air. He closed his eyes as he spoke, “Should thou not conceive in the foreseeable future, I am left with no alternative but to initiate a divorce. No matter the cost.”

Your eyes widened at his decision, your breath catching in your throat as the weight of his words settled upon you. His words seemed rehearsed, so well-thought of, as though he had expected this day to come and heretofore looked forward to informing you of this very plan. You failed to catch his reasoning, but succeeded at bearing the pain it had burdened you with. What had driven him to this conclusion? Certainly, a mere heir would not lead him to this ultimatum. 

“A concubine, then, doth thou suggest so?” Firm and resolute in your stance was how you received his proposal. 

The emperor averted his gaze, allowing silence to stand as your response for several minutes until he finally articulated a considerate reply. “Mine heir cannot be born a bastard, and so concubines shall only complicate matters. I have no plans in that department.” You sensed the direction of his thoughts, and you dreaded his continuation. “Rather, I beseech thee to abdicate thy throne, and I shall remarry another lady, be it of royal or imperial lineage, to bear the heir of this empire. It is the sole fitting course of action. That which, a divorce shall become necessary.”

“Step down from my throne?” Your voice quavered, laced with disbelief and anguish. Your hands clenched into fists at your sides. “Thou would cast me aside, discard me like a worn-out garment in your mistemper’d fit, for the sake of an heir? After everything I have done for thee.” Your words echoed in the chamber, each syllable heavy with the betrayal you felt.

Your heart, once brimming with devotion, now lay shattered at your feet. All your life, you have loved him. All your happiness and tears, you have devoted to him. You had stood by his side through every trial, every conquest, only to be deemed unworthy of bearing his legacy. The sting of rejection seared your soul, igniting a fierce resolve within your wounded spirit. Yet nothing was his response. No words of comfort did he return for your wifely agony. 

With a voice trembling through a mixture of sorrow and defiance, you met his gaze. “Fair enough,” you whispered, your tone laden with a sorrowful resignation. “If it is a concubine thou seek, then so be it. But a divorce, will I not honor. And know this, my lord,” you declared, your voice rising with a newfound strength, “I am the Empress. The only one. There is none within this empire akin to me, for a worthless, lowly concubine shalt not depose this Empress Y/N of Caleum thou wouldst so readily compromise.”

And in that solemn proclamation, you turned away, your stolid mien masking the shattered pieces of your fractured heart. 

His countenance remained stoic as he observed your departure, sighing inwardly as you exited his study. Although no longer offering a response, he found himself unable to deny the truth of your words. Nor the power in which you presented them. Your presence lingered in his thoughts, holding sway over him in a manner he could not fathom. 

As expected, you were epitome of a powerful empress just like what his mother once was and there ought to be a lot more convincing for you to step down from your post. 

⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶♱⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐈𝐈

“If the oracle speaks true, then I fear, my lord, that this empire is destined to fall.”

It was late in the night, though the castle still brimmed with light from the torches adorning the halls. Most servants had retired to bed by this hour, barring the guards stationed at key areas of the castle. Meanwhile, the emperor remained awake, engaged in discussions concerning the fate of his sovereign. A predestined fate that could only be avoided should he make the effort to fulfill the conditions of the prophecy. 

Standing discreetly before him was Lord Maximillian, his advisor—a man who had witnessed his growth from juvenile years to the present moment. He had come to offer the emperor the much-needed counsel regarding the pressing matter at hand.

“Max, what say thee? Discuss unto me; dost thou deem me incapable?” The man of higher power questioned. “I have conversed with the Empress regarding the divorce. I have set forth the framework of my scheme should she falter in birthing my heir. I have articulated it in a manner that renders it just in her eyes. Yet, she reacts with such intensity. And loves so ardently. Ah! Women. Such vile, defiant women art the problem! A termagant—that, she is. For many years, I have afforded her the benefit of the doubt. Her mind is too ambitious for her own right. I know not how to proceed with her any longer. The prophecy dictates that I must have an heir.”

The old man returned him a soulless look. “If thou take the matter otherwise than is meant, then may I suggest that Your Majesty dispose of her.”

“Dispose?” he queried, as though he had misheard. “Her? My wife? Thou see it best to dispose of her?”

“Ay, I think it be. In the same fashion as your sire and dame,” Maximillian asserted, drawing a deep breath. “Prithee, do not misconstrue my intent as treason. My loyalty lies in thee, my liege. I stand by thee. I seek naught but the best for thee, for this empire hath not seen better days until thy sovereignty.”

Silence enveloped the air. Satoru took a moment to gaze at his elongating shadow, gradually shaping itself as he moved farther from the candlelight. In the darkness, his shadow morphed into a menacing silhouette, a specter lurking in the darkness was what had become of him. To become a tyrant was never his intention nor the promise he made to his departed sister, who yearned for Satoru to embody fairness and strength in rulership. And to be an emperor for the people. She had strived for peace among nations, yet here her brother stood, mirroring the oppressive parental figures he had overthrown. What allure did power hold over him? What such force could sway him now to forsake the very individual who had displayed unwavering marital devotion towards him?

“Hast thou been in correspondence with the King of Ellesmere?” inquired the Emperor. “Is it not so that his daughter, the princess, was to wed the late Prince of Astheryn? That prince was the very son of that wretch. That despot. That Emperor Toji II of Astheryn, my foremost enemy. What hath become of that princess, dost thou know?”

Maximillian stared at him intently. “Eight years and a vicennium ripe, yet still an unmarried maiden is the fair Princess Katarina. Is it her hand that Your Majesty seeks?”

“I shall speak my mind as the emperor, so I say this: ‘tis merely her status that makes of her the sole eligible woman to be my wife and empress of this empire.” His decision was wrought with hesitation yet born out of necessity. “Yet for the nonce, she cannot be seated until Y/N hath been dethroned. My decision shall hinge upon whether my wife shall be able to bear my heir anon. Elsewise, I shall dispose of her.”

His advisor sent him a look of approval. “‘Tis a decision that can only originate in thee, my lord. God be with ‘ye.” 

“If that be all, then give leave awhile.” The emperor paused at the western part of the castle, a nigh away from the corridors leading to his wife’s bedchamber. “I do beseech thee to be my herald on the morrow. Write to the King of Ellesmere briefly and concisely. Ere thou falsely honor a new empress, the long hours of my night are to be spent with the woman presently seated upon the throne.”

Eventually, Satoru reached your chambers and noticed that a few candles had been lit, their warm light illuminating the room softly. In the solitude in which you found yourself, seated by the bed and bathed in moonlight, silent in such serenity he hoped not to disturb. The fabric of your nightgown, thin and delicate, revealed the contours of your womanly figure beneath. He, too, was clad in a thin robe that left little to the imagination. 

As you turned to face him, you caught sight of the faint scars and marks from countless battles etched across his body, though his expression remained mostly neutral as it always had and you were unbeknownst to the profanity he had spoken of you a few minutes hence. Now, his electric blue eyes looked at you with careful scrutiny, pondering whether this sensual encounter would all be in vain or if you truly intended to fulfill your role and bear an heir this time.

“How stands the hour?” You spoke softly, approaching him with a sad glint in your eyes. “I have waited.”

“Pardon. Urgent matters call’d upon me.” Satoru could see the sadness in your eyes, but he tried his best to ignore it. You are barren, and there is little he can do to change that. He should begin his newfound task to detach from you. You brought him no good. You offered him no better fate. You were no longer instrumental for him to attain his long-standing ambition. Nevertheless, with your genuinely loving eyes he found himself conflicted, and that showed in his facial expressions. His brow knit, and he parted his lips as if to speak before hesitating and closing them again. You sensed his inclination to make you feel miserable, to render you desolate, yet he could not muster the resolve to articulate such words. Thus, he remained silent.

While you, you stood perfectly still. Like a porcelain doll displayed as a mere decoration. You wanted nothing but to give him his manly satisfaction that night, hoping that your marriage could still work and that he would not need the betrothal of another lady to carry him an heir. With delicate hands, you let the nightgown slip away, falling beneath your feet as the cold air caressed your naked form. This body. All of it belonged to him. “My lord.” You kept your eyes on him. And he, on your shapely bosom. “Please do with me as thou wish.”

Satoru’s eyes darkened as he stared at you, his voice taking a commanding tone to match his expression. “Turn around.”

You did as ordered. As obediently, as submissively. Like a servant serving her master. Yet, beneath this guise of obedience lay a deeper yearning—to vie for his love once more, and to affirm, if only for one last time, that his words this morn were but a fleeting outburst of heightened emotions.

“Thou art fair, indeed,” whispered he. ‘Tis a shame that you fall short in one aspect.

He walked behind you, enfolding you in his muscular arm, ensnaring you in his robust grasp as his fingers traced a path down your back. You could feel the contours of his toned abs pressed against your back, while he explored the dips and curves of your body with his touch, squeezing the soft mounds on your chest. He then leaned his forehead against your neck, trailing tender kisses along your spine. 

The passionate night continued with the both of you taking turns in granting each other pleasure. The kisses around your neck, his tongue in between your folds, your hand wrapped around his well-endowed member. And before you know it, he was entering you from behind, penetrating the depths of your cavern in pursuit of reaching his high. His grasp on your hips tightened with each thrust, rendering your knees weak as you remained on all fours.

Your intimate session lasted for a while, as he was not satisfied enough at having only one release for the night. He jostled you from the back, to the side, and to the front. All of which left you with the warmth of his seed seeping out of your entrance, and subsequently down your thighs. 

If only he did not let his mind speak, you could have deluded yourself that this night was his declaration of utmost love for you. 

“I shall leave thee if an heir dost not soon grant me, do we share this understanding?” Satoru did not sleep as he looked at you, his thoughts running rampant as he questioned whether or not he was being too cruel. His heart skipped a beat as he saw a second of your tears, tears that you so rightfully held back, and he was at a loss of words for once. He knew that he needed to stay firm on his decision, but seeing you on the verge of breaking down... it struck guilt in him. Satoru’s face softened, his tone becoming more calm and less forceful. Subconsciously did he do his best to comfort you. “It disheartens me that it hath come to this. Though I speak it to thee, I have duties to fulfill as emperor.” 

You could not answer immediately and tried to bear the sting it brought to your heart. “How now, didst so suddenly thou find it easy to cast me aside? Wherefore, is it another lady on thy mind?”

“That’s not so.” His guilt was knocking at the door, but he tried to pay it no mind. “This empire requires an heir and thou have failed me.”

“Blame the lack of children on thyself, perchance.” You bit back as your chest rose and fell from heavy breaths. “So infrequently did mine own husband warm my bed as though I am unwed. Blame it, then, on the distance thou have set upon us! A child cannot be born if not be made.”

Satoru’s eyes narrowed at your words. “And dost thou suggest we consummate every minute and every second of the day?” A scoff left his lips. “Eight years, I have given thee.” 

“And yet, for eight years, thou hast not learn’d to love me.”

Your gaze remained fixed, each word hanging heavily in the air, as the weight of your shared history and unresolved emotions loomed between the two of you. It was as though the very atmosphere crackled with tension, the silence pregnant with unspoken truths and unfulfilled desires. What was his true and most honest intent in forsaking you? 

Satoru sat by the edge, ultimately deciding to leave you with yet another night devoid of slumber, lone upon your chamber. “Love? That very love is what killed my sister.” 

⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶♱⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐈𝐈𝐈

A fair distance from the Gate of Saint Pellegrino, a homeless woman cradled a baby in her arms. Her other children darted about Saint Peter’s Square while she sang a hauntingly familiar lullaby to her infant—a melody too melancholic for a child, yet so fitting for the occasion. You recognized it as the song created by the Caelan citizens after the war ended. Her dulcet voice would rival the angels of the sky, and amidst the throng of people attempting to breach the ranks of the knights surrounding the Emperor and Empress, she stayed firm in her spot, her haunting hymn weaving through the atmosphere, while her storm-grey eyes bore into you with an eerie intensity to captivate you in a trance. 

A rose will bloom, it then will fade

So does a youth, so does a fairest maid

Beneath the stars, they found their place,

In secret trysts, love's tender grace.

But lo, the fates their love did fray,

In bitter strife, they slipped away.

So hush, dear ones, and hear this lay,

Of love that wilted, night and day.

In whispered sighs, they bid goodbye,

Two souls in love, 'neath starry sky.

A decade had passed since the most scandalous demise of the Astheryn prince and the Caelum princess had occurred, where both lovers were discovered lifeless within the somber halls of the Sistine Chapel. Contrary to the common folk's belief, they were not wed, nor did they meet their tragic end at Saint Peter’s, forsooth, as their bodies were in fact found at the nearby Sistine Chapel, and their mortuary later held at Saint Peter’s basilica. The Catholic church acknowledged this romantic tragedy as a conclusion to the long-standing feud betwixt two noble empires, henceforth commemorating the young couple's demise each passing year with a holy mass.

This year rendered particular significance as it marked the solemn tenth anniversary of their untimely departure. Mayhap, it may be the reason why your husband had been on edge as of late. Every year, his sister’s demise served as a brutal reminiscence for him—a grim reminder of his perished sister and the origin of his tyrannical reign. He bore witness to his parents' handling of the conflict with Astheryn ten years ago, whereupon they callously demanded the common folk spill their blood in service to the imperial dynasty, igniting civil unrest in its wake. Such ruthless and cowardly deeds left an indelible mark upon him and brought him to the ultimatum of becoming a usurper. You vividly recalled the night he sought solace at your family's estate, clad in battered armor from countless battles waged. That eventide, he wept in your arms, confessing the death of his sister and his burning desire to exact vengeance upon those responsible for his loss. In exchange for marriage, you devised a scheme to orchestrate the coup that would once and for all elevate him to the imperial throne.

Despite the facade of peace ushered in by the treaty between him and the Astheryn Emperor, the truth remained stark: both empires were merely feigning reconciliation. They were only nominally “at peace”. A cold war, by all accounts, defined their true relationship.

The tension could be felt inside the basilica even from the moment you and your husband arrived at The Venera, a microstate on the borders of Astheryn and Caelum, in front of the men of both empires, as well as the members of the Holy Catholic Church. For many years, this sacred state remained a recognized territory of Caelum, despite its official designation as an independent ecclesiastical entity. The Gojou family were openly pious and deeply devout Catholics, while the Astherean citizens were predominantly Protestants. Not all members of the Zen’in clan practiced their empire’s predominant religion, and some suggested that Emperor Toji himself might be an atheist, albeit discreetly so. Rumors also circulated that the mother of the late Prince Megumi was herself a Catholic, which led to intense criticism regarding her marriage to a lineal heir of the imperial family. 

Nevertheless, this stark religious divide lay at the heart of the perennial animosity between the two nations. 

“Announcing Their Imperial Majesties, Emperor Satoru and Empress Y/N, the guiding stars of our empire, luminaries in the twilight of sovereignty.”

As you walked alongside Satoru, you noticed his usual bright blue eyes turning into a darker hue. His gaze fixated upon the altar, his countenance void of emotion, as you proceeded down the aisle by his side. Since that night, silence had permeated your interactions. And you still had no desire to engage him, especially if it meant enduring relentless pressure regarding an heir or the prospect of divorce. 

Yet there, you carried yourself with an air of quiet strength and dignity—a gown of the deepest black with long sleeves ending in delicate cuffs, a silver cross hung by your chest with a gemstone made from blood red corundum, and a flowing black veil crafted from the finest lace, enveloping your head and cascading gently down your back, partially obscuring your features. The veil added an air of mystery and solemnity in your poise. 

As for him, the Emperor was adorned in a doublet and hose ensemble, embellished with intricate brocade and tailored to fit his form exquisitely to accentuate his stature and regal bearing. Draped over his shoulders was a lavish cape of rich, dark velvet lined with ermine fur and fastened at the neck with a jeweled clasp bearing the insignia of his empire. Each fold billowed around him as he moved, creating a striking silhouette that commanded attention and respect.

No wonder the citizens of this empire were noticing your extravagance. And despised you for it. 

Throughout the mass, Satoru remained stoic, seated alongside you at the forefront of the church, his demeanor suggesting that this day of remembrance was a torment to his very soul. Still, he listened, but you doubted he agreed while Pope Alexandre VI delivered a sermon on the importance of unity and peace among nations, condemning the advocates of warfare and citing the tragic fate of the late prince and princess as a poignant illustration of how the animosity between two empires exacts a toll through sacrifice. Prayers were also offered for the souls of the civilians and soldiers who perished during the war, drawing inspiration from the teachings of the Bible as the mass adhered to the customary order of the Liturgy of the Word and of the Eucharist.

“In nomine Patris et Filii et Spiritus Sancti,” you recited under your breath, genuflecting before the altar and offering prayers for the soul of your husband's younger sister, beseeching that she find peace alongside her beloved under the guidance of the Holy Father. And as the mass drew to a close, you remained on your knees in prayer, the sound of approaching footsteps signaling the unwelcome arrival of an unexpected visitor—a presence that elicited a defensive reaction from your husband.

“Your Imperial Majesty, the Emperor of Caelum.” It was none other than Duke Naoya of Astheryn, whose sarcastic presence seemed to have acted as a representative of their highest ruler. Emperor Toji's absence to this occasion already constituted an affront to Satoru, and the pompous mien exhibited by the duke only intensified the indignation. A decade had passed since the death of Prince Megumi, and the prideful Astheryn Emperor still refrained from setting foot on Caelum's soil to acknowledge the purported 'peace' between the empires. Even more, the subtle curve on Duke Naoya's lips added an infantile insult to the already festering wound. “Kindly accept my belated salutations. It took me but a moment to discern thy identity—they speak of the Calean Emperor’s presence as formidable, yet, alas, reality oft falls short of reputation.”

You rose from the ground, poised to defend Satoru, but he raised a hand to forestall your intervention, maintaining his unruffled composure as he addressed the noble man’s jest. “Ah, well the Duke's wit is sharp as ever,” Satoru replied, his tone laced with equal sarcasm and earning the laugh of the surrounding nobles. “It doth seem that overseeing a mere duchy grants the Duke his ample free time, unlike the responsibilities that accompany the rulership of an empire that he so covets.”

“Oh, certainly!” Duke Naoya spoke in Calean with a heavy Astherean accent, still unfazed as his eyes slowly drifted to you. “They doth pale in comparison to the burdens of ruling an empire. Yet, surely, it is not as burdensome with the absence of an heir.” He let his implication hang in the air, an obvious insinuation veiled in the guise of courtly banter.

Before the exchange could escalate into a diplomatic strain, Friar Mychal took it upon himself to intervene, exhaling a laugh of unease and positioning himself between the Emperor and the Duke. “Very well!” he exclaimed. “I have received tidings that the mass attendees shall offer tributes for the basilica in remembrance to the tenth year since the passing of the Prince and the Princess. As a matter of fact, there doth already lie a plethora of flowers adorning their statue that His Majesty Satoru hath offer’d to the museum.”

The museum was just a short walk from the chapel and the space itself was decorated with ornate ceilings, frescoes, and architectural details that added to the grandeur of the surroundings. An array of sculptures lined the hall; of cherubs, saints, warriors, and mythological figures. One of the newer sculptures were of the Prince and the Princess, portraying young lovers in a tender embrace with the princely lad staring at his lady’s face. The sculpture was from a renowned Calean artist which Satoru himself hired out of the pure intention of donating it to the Veneran Museum. The nobles, members of the imperial court, and members of the church were all in awe after the sculpture was revealed to the attendees as such meticulous carvings and lifelike detail could only be done by Giancarlo di Firenze. 

“A remarkable piece, indeed!”

“The detail is breathtaking!”

“To capture such emotion in stone… ‘tis as if they are whispering their love story to us.”

Your husband could not have been prouder. Alongside him, other nobles also contributed their offerings. Some notable ones included stained glass art, precious jewels, a pair of lovebirds, and… a particularly intriguing tapestry gifted by the Astheryn Empire.

The tapestry depicts the Astherean prince and the Calean princess lying together in death with the symbolic addition of a bloodied dagger laid atop the princess’ chest, representing the same weapon that Prince Megumi had used to end his life. The imagery not only insinuated that Satoru's sister was responsible for the prince's demise, but also served as an insult to the prevailing belief in her innocence surrounding her own tragic death.

“This…” Your mouth fell agape. You need not look into your husband’s visage to perceive his growing ire. “This is preposterous!” 

The joy was evident in Duke Naoya’s eyes, yet he endeavored to feign ignorance. “Ah, ere I forget, my noble cousin, the Emperor of the Astheryn Empire, did send an accompanying message addressed to His Majesty Satoru.” 

In the threads of time, woven with the fabric of our shared tragedy, lies the essence of our 'peace'. As we gather to honor the memory of what once was, I send forth this tapestry, whereupon love and folly intertwine in an eternal dance. May it serve as a testament to the fragility of alliances forged in blood and ink, where shadows of deceit cloak the truth we dare not confront. Whilst thou sit'st upon thy borrowed throne, may thou find solace in the echoes of thy usurped legacy. 

With insincere regards, 

Emperor Toji II of Astheryn

⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶♱⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

ACT IV

“My liege, this is unacceptable! Astheryn doth taunt us.” 

An urgent assembly convened at the council chamber, where courtiers gathered to seek counsel from the emperor who was now seated in a position of humiliation following Astheryn's brazen act of insult. You joined the court session in support of your husband, positioned at the throne beside him, while numerous men, each to their own titles and lordship, stood before you both. The courtiers' visages displayed incandescent umbrage as they protested and vehemently rejected the malignance from the rival empire in defense to the Emperor of Caelum. Yet the subject of the scrutiny himself remained staid and dignified. 

“We cannot stand idle in the face of such an insult. If it be war they seek, then we shall grant it unto them!” exclaimed one of the members of the imperial court. A proponent of war he presented himself.  

“Indeed, Your Majesty. To allow such an audacious act of disrespect wilt deem us cowards!” said another one of the men. 

Satoru rested his arm on the armrest, a hand on his chin. He appeared to be lost in profound contemplation, yet you have grown long familiar with that expression of his to know that he was fueled with choler inside. “What say thee, Etienne? War is not a decision made lightly.”

Lord Etienne, as his name was called, spoke his opinion on the matter at hand and acted as an advocate for caution. “Aye and by, my lord. A rash decision could plunge our empire into chaos and suffering. Mayhap, we can explore diplomatic channels first. War should be our last resort, our first impulse not.”

“Your Imperial Majesty!” Lord Armand countered. “With all due respect, thy name hath been besmirched! This is blasphemous, is it not, to this empire and us, its men?” 

“Our men are not prepared for war, Lord Armand,” the previous noble claimed. “An’ how can we wage war with our forces against those of Astheryn’s? Their military prowess is the mightiest throughout the central continent. They are barbaric folks, enemies to peace. We are naught but simple foes to them.”

The belittling of Caelum’s military strength ignited your ire since that the training of soldiers, weapon crafting, and the establishment of the formidable imperial order of knights were specialties of your family—a legacy that your noble ancestors had established in this empire. It was why your family’s ties to the imperial Gojou family remained strong throughout the years. Therefore, hearing such remarks was derogatory to you.  

You held your position and participated in the discussion. “Lord Etienne, dost thou speak so ill of Caelum, which is thy country, and speak so well of Astheryn, which is thy enemy?” For a moment, the court was silenced. “God quit you in his mercy! Hear his sentence. Is Caelum a jest unto thee? We have established our military might since His Majesty’s ascent, and are potent enough to wage war against the entire world!”

“But Your Majesty—”

“Silence, all of thee!” Satoru rose from his throne, exhaling in exasperation, and shot you a displeased look. His next words were sharp and his anger misdirected. “Empress, I appreciate thy indignation, but this proves women shan’t meddle in court sessions. Emotions depart from thy mouth ere logic enters thy mind. Thou art dismissed from this session. At once.” 

You could not fathom his sentences. For the longest time, never before had he dared to disrespect you in the presence of his subjects. Never had he dared to deny you of your rightful place as the empress of this nation, knowing full well the pivotal role you played in his ascension to the throne. Why, you could not speak! You were rendered speechless, too stunned to respond as you sank back into your seat, grappling with the sting of hurt and humiliation he had inflicted on you.

And somehow, Lord Maximillian’s eyes were uncharacteristically fixed on you as though they were in triumph at your situation. He did well enough to mask that with indifference withal. What was this hostility? Even the knights who approached you only had regard for the emperor, following his command of escorting you out of the council chamber despite your desire to stay seated. Yet to save face from this abomination, you did it upon yourself to stand up and leave at your own will. 

“Nanami.” In your disappearance, Satoru spoke again, this time facing his subjects. “How dost thou propose we navigate this situation?”

Lord Nanami was more of the voice of reason, expressing his approach on the matter with neither bias towards engaging in or retreating from war. “My liege, I speak as a good man for thee. Let us convene with our allies, assess our military readiness, and explore all avenues for resolution. Only then shall we make an informed decision. It is most meet we arm ‘gainst the foe.”

Satoru already knew the answer before the man had spoken of it. Why so? Because it was the same route he would take. Only, it was his wounded pride and disdain towards his greatest adversary that landed him to a much more inhospitable decision. “Along with that blasphemous tapestry, written in his message, did that Emperor of Astheryn disparagingly refer to me as a usurper when I am the true born heir to the throne.” He ground out the words with clenched teeth as he stared at the portrait of his father. His hands balled into fists, his face hot and pinched with resentment. He detested being called a ‘usurper’ as he detested Astheryn and all of the Zen’ins. Regardless of the path he took to claim his throne, he was still a direct lineal heir to the Gojou bloodline. “I cannot let that pass. I cannot let his insult go unanswered. Hence, take down these words and address them to him, who is mine enemy.” Satoru stared straight ahead, his face blank and emotionless as he spoke his next words in flawless Astherean language. “Emperor of Astheryn, your words are as venomous as they are misguided. While thou dost revel in thy petty insults and thinly veiled threats, know this: the patience of Caelum wears thin. Thy tapestry of deceit and blasphemy shall find no place within the halls of our empire. Let it be known that the path thou treadest leads only to ruin and despair. Should thou persist in thy folly, Caelum shall meet thy challenge with unwavering resolve. Consider this thy final warning. The drums of war beat ever louder, and Caelum will not hesitate to answer the call, for this usurper thou deride may stay true to that label when I seize thy throne and make it mine.” 

Following the court session, the emperor retreated to the training hall until late evening venting his wrath against the despot from the rival empire. He devoted hours in the hall, wielding his sword, sparring with the swordsmanship master, and decisively overpowering him to feel a sense of honor for himself. In his mind, each strike was a fierce expression of his imagination, envisioning what that battle would be like if it were Emperor Toji II in his stead. It would have been their second encounter in the battlefield as the first one ended in armistice for the sake of the prince and princess. This time, however, the execution of this battle would be markedly different. 

Later that eve, he returned to his study, still in his armor as he met with his most loyal advisor. It was a private counsel to discuss matters unbeknownst to the rest of the empire—the prophecy and, notably, you. 

“I fear this as I say this: the prophecy is upon thee, my lord.” Lord Maximillian’s voice hinted at unease. His warning, spoken with a mood of paranoia. “The oracle’s riddles are living their truth, and this predicament with Astheryn is a vivid illustration of that fact. War looms on the horizon, and it threatens to be thy undoing. Now, more than ever, we require the backing of another nation in the likes of Ellesmere.” 

“I see that.” Satoru responded with a heavy exhale, tossing his metal helmet onto the carpeted floor. He made his way toward the expansive window and gazed out at the courtyard below. There, he spotted you, meandering the rose garden alone under the cover of night. You were brighter than the envious moon, coruscating like a fresh tulip amongst the field of wilted roses. 

The lord cleared his throat and stood next to the emperor. “Thou must rid of her, Your Majesty. If it is what the prophecy hath taught us, then the Empress serves as a harbinger of thy downfall. The destruction of Caelum is the comeuppance of retaining her. Abandon all hope that she will bring thee child or luck. I do acknowledge the attachment that Your Majesty hath formed with her in thy lusty years together, but she is ill fate to all of us.”

You stopped at the fountain, seemingly lost in deep thought, and then began an expressive argument with yourself in your solemnity. The sight earned his smile. Satoru could not keep his eyes off you as if they were drawn by your beauty under the luminescence of the moon. How pitiful, truly, that your innocence left you no knowledge of the conversation he was having with his advisor. 

“She shall be appointed as a concubine,” he declared, “Ridding of her is a waste; divorcing her offers a suitable solution. She may not have my heir, but she is a strong empress. A true villainess, yes. That, she may be, but she is devoted to me.” 

“Which is precisely why thou must dispose of her!" Lord Maximillian pressed onto the matter with greater seriousness. “My liege, it is anticipated that thou wilt yearn for Empress Y/N’s loyalty even at the success of your marriage with the Princess of Ellesmere. An’ her ferocious devotion could only hinder thy plans and bring about thy downfall. Who's to say she will withstand the temptation from inflicting harm upon the fair Princess Katarina out of jealousy? This, as thou knowest, could turn Ellesmere against us!” His passionate speech then silenced him into a quiet plea. “Pray, Your Majesty, I implore thee to ponder it deeply. For the sake of this empire.”

⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶♱⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐕

In the evening, at the hour of eleven did you find yourself wandering the garden. It had become more and more difficult to live each day, unable to grasp why your spouse had been hostile against you for reasons you could not justify. If it were matters concerning your apparent infertility, then he could easily get a concubine just as you had already permitted. All of Caelum's nobility were well aware of your possessiveness towards him, yet it was you who proposed the idea of a concubine to him. Why, then, does he still entertain the idea of remarriage? Is it to guarantee that his heir will not be deemed a bastard? He possessed the authority to prevent such a label from being attached to the child.

“O, cruel fate!” You stopped in front of the fountain, staring at your reflection on the glistening water. “A dispassionate husband you have given me! Am I not fair? Hath I lost charm and warm youthful blood? Hath Cupid launched his awful arrow onto some other where? O, for that he is mad!” 

Tears welled up your eyes, blurring your vision as you looked into the mirrored reflection. You thought of Satoru’s hateful gaze when you closed your eyes and could feel the painful knots in your stomach. He had been naught but a distant spouse for eight years in your marital union, alas and alack, any improvements were farfetched. Every attempt at progress only fueled into a relationship filled with disagreements. 

Your monologue resumed. “There could be another woman, could it? A maid, perchance? One that crawls his bed at night whilst I am sound in my slumber. Fie, insolent wench! Or must it be a noble lady he had seen at a ball, a coming-of-age ceremony, or anything of the sort? Vile, dishonorable harlot! I shall strip off thy noble status and exile thee hence from Caelum!”

A sigh ended your ranting, leaving you with more tears to shed as you fondly remembered your youthful days of infatuation with him. He was the man you had dreamed of, yet now all he would do was to quarrel, and quarrel, and quarrel. You had become an enemy in his eyes. He may have drowned you with extravagant gifts and the rarest jewels throughout your marriage, but the one you most coveted—his love—was one he could not give. 

“My lady?” 

You turned around at the sound of the gentleman’s voice, whereupon a knight presented himself to you. No, not merely any other knight, but the Knight Commander of the Imperial Order of Knights. Sir Suguru, Caelum’s most prized possession, a power and battle-fit warrior, who could defeat a hundred armed men by himself alone. A hero he was referred to by this empire’s people. His commitment to chivalry and service did not go unnoticed as your husband, the very emperor he served, had more than once awarded him for fostering high morale and esprit de corps among other knights. 

“What brings thee hither, and wherefore?” you asked, watching him curtsy before you as he did the standard imperial greetings. His silver suit of armor gleamed, reflecting the stars in the sky, while the black cloak enveloping him mirrored the void of the night. Truly, an intimidating presence for those that knew none of him. 

Howbeit, his face was a stark difference from the aura he exuded. His eyes curved into crescent moons as he smiled, offering what appeared to be a handkerchief. “I am about my nightly rounds in the palace, and in hearing Your Majesty’s woe did I come forth. Is everything alright, Empress?” 

You sighed in lamentation and accepted the linen cloth from his hand. “To say ‘alright’ how I wish that would be so. The state of my marriage troubles me, yet hear none of it for these matters art private.”

Suguru acquiesced to your words and nodded in respect toward you, still remaining by your side in silence. Like a personal guard stationed to protect you as it seemed he had no intention of leaving you alone in the courtyard. 

“How, now! Dost thou not care to leave a woman in her peace?” you questioned, displaying a moue on your face. The tears have long been dried from your cheeks as you spoke to him. “I crave not to be perceived!” 

It was already a rare sight to cross the Knight Commander’s path around the palace, given that his duties did not include serving as a personal guard to the emperor. He was typically present only during official or diplomatic gatherings, and rather trained and oversaw the elite group of guards that would protect the emperor and empress. Nevertheless, with what little interactions you had with him, Suguru had always conducted himself as a respectful and dutiful subject towards you. 

“Forgive me. It is quite perilous to be alone outside at night, Your Majesty, as thy vulnerability may pose a risk to thy safety.” He moved to unclasp his mantle, draping the large black cloak around your shoulders, a much smaller figure than himself. “And if thou permit, the night is cold and a lady must stay warm.”

There was a strange flutter in your heart as your wide eyes saw the gentility in his intentions. You could no longer question why dozens of noble women would line up to vie for his attention. His actions spoke better than his words ever could. How far, you wondered, would his kindness to you take him? “Art thou not a bound subject to my husband?” 

“Forsooth, I am.” He stared ahead. “I have been his friend since our youth. However, it is with Your Majesty’s kin that I owe the honor of being a knight. It is with thy father’s support that I consider myself alive, standing here in this palace as the leader of all knights.” 

Not once did you move your eyes away as you studied his sincerity. “Then, if I ask thee to commit treason against the Emperor of Caelum,” you spoke with such regal power, “Shall I assume thy commitment to me?” 

For a while, Suguru did not speak. He appeared to be contemplating his answer as his stance had become defensive. Or hesitant, whichever fit. He did not meet your careful eyes, though he did look down and confess a knowledge that greatly devastated you. “The prophecy is what dictates His Majesty’s disposition toward thee. In the dungeon hides an oracle that he fortnightly seeks. I escorted him when he visited the oracle, who foretold him that he requires the birth of an heir in the near future, else a woman of no monarchical descent shalt be the cause of his downfall. To mine understanding, he read her riddles as having the need to execute thee and wed another woman of true royal lineage. That, that truth bears my commitment to thee, Empress.” 

Upon hearing Suguru's words did your heart sink, and a wave of disbelief washed over you. It felt as though the ground had been pulled from beneath your feet, leaving you suspended in a state of shock, desperately trying to grasp the magnitude of what had just been revealed to you. 

“Faugh! By’r Lady, that is a grave accusation!” Anger simmered beneath the surface of your composed exterior. You were livid at Suguru for being the bearer of such devastating news, for being the messenger of your potential downfall, and felt betrayed by your own husband, the Emperor, for keeping such a crucial prophecy hidden from you. You wondered why he had never shared this information with you, why he allowed you to live in ignorance while he made plans for your potential demise. But one thing for certain, was that this was the reason for his growing detachment toward you. 

The knight could only provide you with a comforting bow. “By the grace of God, these words art true. Lord Maximilian conspires with him. Hie to the dungeons and seek the oracle, my lady. She shall impart the truth unto thee.”

Beneath your anger lay a profound sadness, a heartache that cuts to the core of your being. The realization that your own husband, the man you loved and had pledged your life to, saw you as nothing more than a pawn in a game of power and succession. You felt a sense of profound loss, mourning not only the potential loss of your own life but also the loss of trust, of love, of the future you had envisioned.

Despite the tumult of emotions raging within you, you remained outwardly composed, your mask of regal poise firmly in place. You knew you must tread carefully, that showing weakness now would only play into the hands of those who seek your downfall. 

And yet, the devil showed himself. You had been oblivious to your husband’s presence by the window of his study as he stood a great distance from you, watching you engage in an intimate conversation with his Knight Commander down below. He could not gauge where that sudden familiarity came from as he witnessed Suguru draping his cape around you—an action that crossed a territory he should not have sought. The emperor could no longer tolerate watching it, walking in haste along the halls of the palace until he eventually reached the courtyard. His gaze was burning into the back of Suguru’s head as he stopped behind you, waiting for you to notice your husband’s approach before he spoke. 

“Empress.” His deep voice startled you. 

Your eyes were clouded with resentment, hidden under the veil of a devoted wife. “My liege.” 

Satoru stared at Suguru with a fierce look before turning to you. “It is dangerous to be abroad at this hour. I desire naught untoward to befall thee, hence I came hither to ensure thy safety.”

“I apologize, then, for causing thy worry.” A bitter smile painted your lips and the tone of your voice suggested of feigned concern. “As thou seest, I have a knight here who is trained to guard and protect me.” 

The emperor narrowed his eyes at the aforementioned knight, who elected silence out of deference to the reigning monarchs afore him. This very knight was a childhood friend of his, but now Satoru regarded him as a rival, for all the peculiar reasons. “Go and depart now, Suguru,” he commanded, and yanked the cape from the empress’ body, then flung it toward the knight. “I shall escort my wife back.”

Satoru caught you sending an apologetic look toward the Knight Commander, which in return caused his ire to grow. What was the conversation you shared with him for you to act that way? In fact, he had never seen you pay another man that much attention. What a devious, little wench. A foxy, scheming jezebel. Satoru threw insults at you in his head as he took your arm in a tight grip, pulling you away from the courtyard. The silence between the two of you was thick with unspoken tension as he led you up the spiral staircase on the eastern side of the castle. His side of the castle. 

“Darling.” Your endearment came out as a protest as you tried to pull your arm from his grip. “Unhand me.” 

Still and all, he was silent as he dragged you along. It was only a short distance to his quarters, but he did not let go of you even once. You should see in his eyes that he was not amused by the friendly interaction between you and Suguru. 

“I said release my hand, at this very instant!” 

He remained like a taciturn man while ushering you into his quarters. Once he had locked the door behind him, he released his grip on your wrist and turned to confront you. His eyes grew dark and cold. A shade of blue that reminded you of lightning. “I would prefer it if he did not approach thee when I am not present.”

“Ah, see now he speaks!” Scoffing, you glared at him. “He simply tender’d his best to comfort me. Do not suspect it of aught else,” said you defensively, in a voice backed by your authority. Only now did he realize that the expression on your face had become austere. 

“Even if that were true, I have no need for another man—especially a knight—to comfort my wife.”

“A wife? A wife thou ask’d for divorce?” you mocked as his statement erupted a laughter out of you. A loud, boisterous laughter that screamed an insult to his face. “Thou see me as nothing but a bearer of children. Not a wife nor a person thou treasure with thy heart.” As you ridiculed him with humor on your face, your eyes had also grown deranged. “A mere pawn to thy chessboard is what I am.” 

Satoru was rigid in his stance. “I only offer’d to divorce thee if thou were unable to conceive. It is my duty as emperor to sire an heir. If the empress fails to fulfill that duty, I am compelled to find someone else who will—”

“An heir this, an heir that. Out upon it!” You expressed your frustration outwardly, throwing your hands into the air. “Go get thyself a concubine, then, and I shall get myself a lover to even the score.” 

A lover? Satoru was seething, yet his expression remained unchanged. He knew that you were taunting him, and still chose not to give you the reaction you wanted. “Then, I may be certain thou wilt have greater success at producing heirs with thy lover than thou dost with me.” 

“Certainly!” you bit back, anger rising in each syllable. “In place of my husband, mayhap my lover could beget me a child, proving to the entire empire that it is not I who is barren.”

Satoru's eyebrows shot up in response to the blatant insult to his fertility. His cold eyes narrowed, the rage within him intensifying. “If thou hast a child by thy lover, it will not discredit my fertility at all. It will instead bring into question my choice to have a child with a woman who is unable to be faithful to her husband.”

Your chest rose and fell in heavy breaths. “If thou seek thyself a concubine, then I shall seek mine own lover. That or naught at all.”

“Fie! I seek not a concubine,” he raised his voice, a spasm of irritation crossing his face. “Ill-tempered shrew! Many times have said it, and I say it once more. In thy failure to conceive, my will is to remarry another lady and make her the empress, not a concubine! The heir must be legitimate. Stick that to thine empty head!” 

Satoru could feel the heat of your stare burning into him, but his mind had suddenly wandered back to the previous conversation, and he could not help but wonder whether you would actually have an affair with another man. The thought of it infuriated him, but he pushed it out of his mind as you stared at him in blazing fury. 

“Need I remind thee that it is I who aided Your Majesty in ascending to the throne?” A cloud of warning settled over your features. “It is I who aided thee in staging a coup to overthrow thy tyrant parents. If the princess did not perish, would thou not be a madman. Now tell me, the only payment I require in return is thy love, yet hast thou paid thy dues?”

He scoffed at your words. You believe all you did in leading the rebellion was for the purpose of making him emperor? It was in your best interests to see yourself climb the ranks of an imperial power. And it was certainly not love you sought, but mere attention and validation. “My respect should be enough of a reward for thee. I took thee as my wife as a sign of my gratitude. Love was never a part of the deal.”

“Love is the very essence of that deal,” countered you. “Thou would be foolish not to think so.” 

In his eyes, love and affection were something you should receive only when you deserve it, not when you demand it. In his mind, you had grown too familiar with him, too spoiled by his presence. It was time he corrected this. “Thou art mistaken in thinking that love is a condition of our relationship. Never have I made any promises of love or affection. I only promised thee of attention and the prestige of being an empress. Have I not fulfilled this promise and made thee into an empress in its entirety? Love is a mere illusion conjured in thy imagination.”

“A tyrant, he reveals himself!” You pushed him off you, eyes brimming with unshed tears. “What devil art thou, that dost torment me thus? Miserable villain! Usurping knave! Betrayer of blood, who masquerades himself an emperor under a false sovereign! I placed thee on that throne thou so wistfully enjoy. Thy power and authority have no hold on me.” 

The emperor's jaw clenched tightly as the empress's words cut through the air like a dagger. His pride was wounded by the venom of her words—words she had not carefully chosen, or perhaps did carefully choose, as she knew what words he despised hearing the most. His eyes flashed with jaundice as he fought to contain the roiling emotions churning within him. He wanted to lash out, to defend his honor and assert his authority, but he knew that such displays of weakness would only fuel the flames of dissent and discord.

Instead, he yanked your wrist again. “Forget not thy place, wife.” And then he grabbed your face with a rough hand, slamming you against the wall. “I may have promised not to take myself a concubine, but that privilege is not extended to thy behavior.” The tightness of his grip caused your cheeks to ache slightly, and he showed no signs of letting go.

“And what wilt thou do?” you spoke through gritted teeth. 

“What will I do? I will remind thee of thy position, wife,” he continued to speak in a menacing tone, “Test my patience as much as thou liketh. Go ahead and take a lover. Let us see how thy arrogance holds up when I force thee to bear his bastard child.”

You cussed him under your breath. “Is that jealousy?”

Yet, his countenance proved otherwise. “Not jealousy, as I am not possessive of thee. Bear whomever's child as thou wish. But once that child is born, I would never claim my title as the father. It would be deemed a bastard, its blood impure, and its existence an insult to my throne.”

“Press not the matters of infidelity to me when thou art the one in desperate need to put thy cock inside another lady.” You were bold enough to send him a look of disgust. “Thou art an emperor all due to me. Without me, thou art naught.”

In a fit of rage, Satoru exploded like a volcano spilling out its reservoir of hot, scorching lava. “You?! You think yourself the savior of this empire? Not by far!” There was a brief pause before he continued, eyes looking at you in unforgiving judgment. “I would have succeeded in leading the coup, even without thee.”

A snort escaped your lips. “Delude thyself that.”

“There are no guards nearby. No witnesses for thee.” The warning he had issued was laden with the implication of impending punishment, fueled by your defiance and vitriol, driving him to a boiling point. He seized your wrist once more, his grip tighter than before, as he leaned in close and spoke into your ear. “I could hurt thee right here and now if I wanted to, yet thou art at my mercy.”

“I need none of thy mercy,” you spat, taken aback as he pushed you against the wall. You could feel his breath fanning your neck as he leaned closer, inches before your face. 

Satoru's laughter rang out as you persisted in your resistance, his eyes narrowing with a mix of intrigue and anger. Your defiance only served to stoke the flames of his wrath as he began to speak, “Darling,” and made a mocking of your endearment, “Mayhap I shall ravish thee until thou art insensible.”

“Vainglorious dastard,” you spitefully replied.

He spoke no words for several moments, his breathing gradually intensifying as he gazed down at you like a toy he wanted to destroy. And for a fleeting moment, it seemed as though he was weighing whether to persist or not, but eventually, he made his choice, his voice adopting a more ominous tone with each word. “Thou wilt be ravaged.”

“S-Satoru!”

He pushed you towards his bed, and himself against you, pressing his body heavily atop yours. His breath became uneven with his anger overtaking his mind. Your whimper of fear filled him with sadistic satisfaction. “Yes, me, as thou said. No one else is here with us, and no one would bat an eye if they heard a scream.”

Your decision to pull his hair proved to be a significant mistake, though it was evident from your expression that you derived pleasure from it. You longed for it. You desired this wanton affection. This carnal desire. Lust bathed in your eyes as you observed him hastily tear his clothing, eager to feel the velvety touch of your skin against his. He wasted no time in undressing you as well, ripping away whatever obstructed your bareness, leaving you both exposed under the moonlight, indulging in the passions shared between lovers.

“I despise thee,” you declared, a hot moaning mess under him as he rammed his hardened shaft in between your legs where he himself was grunting at the pleasure of your tight entrance. In and out he went, and buried his face on your neck to leave purple marks all over your skin. “I-I despise thee!”

“I share those sentiments,” he jested, squeezing your breast in labored breaths before he sucked the rounded mass in his mouth. 

By the end of your long passionate exchange, he lay next to you, body soaked in sweat as he watched your sleeping face. The peace in those saintly features. Did you pass out? He could not be certain. Was he too rough? That, he was certain. It showed on the bruises that mapped parts of your body. He could feel a small tinge of guilt within him as he moved to pull the blanket over you, pressing a soft kiss on your lips. 

“Is this not love?” He opened his eyes when heard you laughing softly, eyes still shut but with a bitter smile spreading on your face. In a cold tone of voice, you whispered, “Thy love is tough, yet love natheless.” 

He knew it was not love, yet even if it was, you would soon be taken care of anyway. You would be exiled or worse, executed, should you fail to heed his warnings. He had to put his ambitions first and foremost before any form of affection he had of you. And if you truly, unconditionally loved him, you would understand why. 

That, that was how he defined love to be. 

⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶♱⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐕𝐈

The castle’s dungeon was an… unsightly place. Aside from the centuries of brutal torture and grotesque deaths that occurred down under, it also housed the memory of Satoru shedding his hands on his kinsmen’s blood. That was the place where he had slain his father, his rotting head still mounted on the wall as though he was an animal that his son had hunted. A tyrant, undoubtedly. Satoru's penchant for brutality knew no bounds, but he certainly got it from his father. While you were responsible for the death of a little over a hundred people, his would account for more than thrice that number. 

As you descended further into the depths of the dungeon, the air grew heavy with the miasma of damp stone, blood, and decay. A putrid, sickening odor greeted your nose the more you entered. If not for the torches that flickered dimly along the walls, you would not be able to see at all, yet those torches casted eerie shadows that danced and swayed with each step you took. It was a frightening sight and definitely not for the faint hearted. 

“Help!” Your senses were assailed by the sights and sounds of the dungeon's grim inhabitants as you ventured deeper into the labyrinthine corridors. Gaunt specters lurked in the shadows, their hollow eyes gleaming with a sinister light as they whispered chilling secrets to one another in sotto voce. Some also cried of agony and despair, some had already fallen unhinged from being held in captivity for so long—it became a cacophony of anguished cries and tortured souls. “Help me, Empress! I plead mine innocence!”

“Step back, Your Majesty.” Suguru, who acted as your companion in this macabre trip, unsheathed his sword to protect you from being touched by the prisoners. He threatened to slash their hands with just a simple touch on your dress. 

“Empress! Empress!”

You deemed it wise to pull the hood of the cloak over your face, especially as the prisoners were starting to recognize you within these cursed confines. It would be troublesome if Satoru were to arrive soon and they began to scream your name in his presence.

“Empress, this dungeon is meant for souls as tainted as thine!” 

That statement proved itself to be spine-chilling and hair-raising, as such accusations could not be denied. Truthfully, your crimes far surpassed theirs. You belonged with the forsaken and the damned. You already accepted that all your sins and trespasses would bring you nowhere near heaven, yet you had blindly murdered people out of love for Satoru. That was how crazy you were at winning him over. And now, this is where it brought you. 

But you pressed on and continued traipsing through the dungeon until you could feel the presence of the oracle drawing closer, a beacon of hope amidst the despair that gripped the dungeon like a vice.

Finally, you reached the chamber where the oracle awaited. It was a figure cloaked in shadow at the far end of the room. And upon adjusting your visions, you could see that the oracle was an old woman, her white hair cascading like a waterfall of moonlight around her frail shoulders. Her skin, alabaster. Her eyes, ghoulish and devoid of color, and they seemed to pierce the veil of reality itself as she spoke in riddles and whispers that sent shivers down your spine. It was your first time to encounter such an unrealistic being. They said each word from the oracle dripped with the weight of centuries of wisdom and foreboding. She spoke of prophecies and portents, of trials and tribulations yet to come, her words weaving a tapestry of fate and destiny that hung heavy in the air like a shroud.

“Speak.” You stopped at her chamber, demanding to hear the prophecy she had said to your husband. “Tell me the Emperor’s prophecy.” 

Much to your ire, she gave you no response, still staring at the empty wall. 

“Speak!” Your patience was growing thin as each passing second would crumble any hope you had inside that Satoru was not a man who would forsake you, or even execute you, in exchange for his ambitions. But it had been twenty or so minutes and still there was no word from the oracle. “Have you no mouth? Art thou not a soothsayer?” 

Suguru sucked in a deep breath. Should his accusations of the emperor prove to be a lie, you swore to yourself that you would be the one to put him inside one of the iron maidens in the dungeon. Or that daunting Judas cradle if he preferred. “Your Majesty, it takes time to make her speak.” 

“I do not have that luxury of time! I cannot be seen hither.” You gave him a menacing stare. “On peril of thy life, Sir Knight, if this be naught but foolery, I will disembowel thee myself—”

“Beware! O Empress, keeper of fragile dreams!” 

The sudden burst of the oracle’s voice startled you, as they were far from what you had expected from an old lady. It carried an otherworldly quality that seemed to transcend her physical form. They were melodic and haunting, a chilling quality that hinted at the supernatural origins of her prophetic abilities. It was as though you were paralyzed by the time she spoke, like all your senses stopped working and all you could ever do was be forced to listen to her prophecy.

“For the Emperor's gaze wanders far,

As he seeks a lady of royal blood,

Ambition cloaked in the guise of lineage,

And in his thirst for power, lies your peril.”

As you listened, your heart bled terribly, knowing that the answers you sought lay buried within the enigmatic riddles of the oracle's words. The haunting words of the prophecy echoed through the dim chamber where you stood frozen, in a state of despair and disbelief and every awful thing in the world combined. The truth, once a lurking suspicion, now materialized before you and it left your heart in shattered pieces because you actually hoped that none of the accusations were true. So, how could Satoru do this to you? How could he betray you after all your sacrifices just to be his wife, your efforts just to receive his love, and your crimes just to satisfy his desires? Through your hands, more than a hundred souls had perished. You had shed the blood of many Christian souls for him. You had offered him your chastity and turned back on your reverence by profaning the word of God. You had worshiped him like a divine being. Yet so easily would he cast you away. No, he could not even offer the slightest pleasure of loving you genuinely, without any inhibitions, without anything in exchange. 

While your sacrifices were his definition of the “greater good”, his betrayal against you was his definition of a “lesser evil”. It was his “personal gain”, for your demise would have no profound repercussions on this empire. 

Undoubtedly, that must be his truest and utmost feelings for you. 

Suguru held you in his arms when you fell to the ground, your entire world crashing before you as the oracle revealed your husband’s plans. Your hands were shaking, trembling. You had trouble breathing. He was there to guide you out of the dungeon safely, even if you were to run and weep like a madwoman. But of course, you were not that insane yet. It was simply the ache in your heart that catapulted you into an abyss of pain. 

Satoru must not succeed in his plans. He must not come out victorious. The greatest revenge you could think of was brimming in the back of your mind, ignited by the visible spite you felt for him and his web of deceit. 

And back alone in your bedchambers, nausea overcame you and had you vomiting all over the floor. You retched the harrowing experience at the dungeons, disgusted by things you saw and heard, especially the treachery of your very husband. You were sick at the thought of him planning your assassination behind your back, like an ungrateful imbecile who only cared about himself and his vainglory. 

“Nurse!” you called, coughing out the foul taste of bile expelled from your throat. “Come hither!” 

“Anon, madam!” Geneva came to your aid as soon as you summoned her and tended to your needs immediately. At the time, you could not make out much of the clatter that was happening inside your chambers as you lay in bed with your eyes shut. It seemed that Geneva had ordered the other servants to clean out the mess you had created, while she took over in putting you to bed and making sure that you were warm and comfortable. She had no single idea about what was going through your mind, and had she had any hint about what it was, you could only imagine how bloody traumatized she would be. 

If Satoru wanted to dethrone and destroy you, then you might as well help him with it. He should no longer be surprised to see what good of a show you could offer for everyone in this empire. 

“Good madam,” Geneva called gently, after an hour or so, pulling you out of trance. “A physician is already—”

You lifted a hand, stopping her while you tried to get out of bed. “There is not a need for that.” Despite your queasiness, you had decided that there was no time to waste for this war of love and death against your husband. The sooner you planned things out, the greater your advantage would be. You had to have the upperhand in this. “Nurse, whither wander dost my husband?” 

The nurse guided you up and draped a lightweight shawl around your shoulders. “I ween His Majesty is undertaking a military inspection. Escorted by a ten or so knights goes he.” 

An inspection? It must be related to the discussion at the imperial court. Of course, if Satoru was planning to wage war against Astheryn, he had to review the troops stationed in different regions of the empire to assess readiness, morale, and preparedness for defense. He could deploy an initial 25,000 men in his heavy infantry should he find the need to go on an all-out war with the enemy, but those amount of soldiers would require the emperor himself to arduously test if they were ready for battle. Naturally, the inspection could last four or five days depending on his assessment. And in his absence in the palace, either the empress or the other trusted advisors would usually take on the duties that usually were his. 

This was the perfect opportunity to devise your plan; to prune the branches, weaken the trunk, and uproot the tree entirely. The branches began with his loyal advisors, which have already been filtered out as those previously appointed by his parents became his enemies. Enemies that died by his hands and yours, because those enemies were advisors who did not support Satoru in his method of seizing the highest throne, so he could not risk having rebels in the empire who would later work together to topple him from his seat. When he first rose to the throne, he had several assassination attempts aimed at him, typically by means of poisoning his food with arsenic, or hiring highly skilled mercenaries to slay him behind his back—all of those attempts were intercepted by you. And at the elimination of those disloyal to him, Satoru assumed that the current members of the imperial court could hence be trusted since they had not shown any hints of falsity for the ten years they had served him. 

The difference between you and Satoru was that he was easily beguiled because the noblemen treated him a lot differently than you. They were ass-lickers, trying to win him over for their own superficial benefits, while you knew who among them were simply supporting Satoru for the sake of not being executed. Out of fear, out of an inherent will to live, out of an obvious lack of choice—there was one noble who stood out among the rest. 

And it was the one whose presence was not the loudest. 

“Lord Nanami.” Upon mentioning his name, you entered the palace library—a grandeur chamber notable for its high ceilings, expansive oak shelves, and accoutrements—as he stood in front of a wood table, strangely interested in codices. “Well met.” 

The blond nobleman curtsied. “Your Imperial Majesty, ‘tis an honor to be in thy presence.” 

You gestured your hand into dismissing him, cutting to the chase because you were still unwell. And for all the necessary reasons, you had to have this conversation with him or else there would not be an easier opportunity with Satoru’s eyes and ears around the palace. Nanami was his most trusted advisor, not Maximilian as much as he fooled himself to think so. “What codex read thou?”

Nanami spoke cautiously, his eyes fixed on the codex. “Of some medical writings and scientific treatises. Rumors are circulating about a mysterious outbreak in a remote village in Constantia, a city within the grand duchy of Valoria. It seems to be an illness that is spreading rapidly with only a 10% chance of survival. I hear they are calling it the ‘Black Death’ due to the appearance of gangrene. Considering the trade routes, that city lies along the Veridian Sea, which is a path taken by the ship that trades metals and minerals with us. They engage in that route due to Constantia's involvement with the slave trade, boarding the ship bound for Caelum for the metals and minerals, while ferrying their slaves all the way to Astheryn, their largest buyer.”

As if the gods were with you! 

The topic pulled your sudden interest, for it was proving to be exactly what you needed for your plan to be successful. “An illness, thou sayest? What records have we about its origin?” 

“Valorians perceive it as divine punishment for their involvement in the slave trade. Another prevalent theory is the miasma it brings, attributing the disease to foul odors and noxious fumes in the air and in the environment in which they live. Personally, I suspect it originates from a bacterium resulting from interactions between humans and infected animals.” Despite lacking sufficient research to support his hypothesis, you acknowledged that Nanami's personal theory seemed more plausible. “The symptoms suggest to me that it is not airborne, contrary to what most people assume.”

You kept your eyes on him as he fixed his pince-nez. “What symptoms doth it have? And what conclusion have thee on what they are?”

“Your Majesty, a swarm of dead rats were found in Constantia a month ago,” he first informed, leading you to his suspicions. “Given the escalating tension with Astheryn and our increased need for metal to support our crafting and weaponry, I bade a dispatcher to send a message to Constantia due to their failure to supply us with the agreed-upon metal,” Nanami explained, showing a haze of regret behind in his eyes. “The dispatcher wrote back to me, stating that he is unable to return to Caelum promptly as he was experiencing chills, buboes, and gangrene. I presume he perished within days of arriving there.”

The moue you displayed on your face could not be stopped. “Doth His Majesty know? Of this and yon rumors in Valoria thou speakest of?” 

“His Majesty, the Emperor, hath not been apprised of the matter yet.” The blond nobleman looked at you solemnly. “‘Tis my duty to inform him as soon as he returns from his—”

“No, thou wilt not,” you commanded sternly, earning his surprise in return. “Thou wilt not speak a word to Satoru about this. Obey my word and thou shall be rewarded.” 

This was good. This was perfect for your plans! If it was true that such illness was spreading in Valoria, it would only be a matter of time until the plague reached Caelum and wiped half its population! You laughed heartily inside your head. It would be an utmost entertainment for you to watch Satoru’s downfall before your very eyes. If Astheryn was no threat to him, then a biolgical warfare would certainly destroy him. No one else had to know of your schemes but you.

Of course, the ever-so-noble Nanami was not easy to convince, especially if it was a clash between his duty and morality. “Empress, I fail to comprehend... Such matters couldst pose dangers to Caelum and its lands. His Majesty needeth be informed, as he possesses the authority to prevent the trade ship from reaching us. Astheryn had already long ceased their slave trading due to it. We must do the same.”

“And thou believe I lack the same power to issue commands as an empress?” As you raised an eyebrow at him, his stance became more apologetic. “Continue with the trade by hook or by crook. I will sign the permit and have the ship arrive us on Monday next as planned. Let us not allow rumors of an illness to hinder us from obtaining our required metal from the city of Constantia. As thou said, we need abundant supplies for our weaponry. We must seize this opportunity to bolster our arms. Do not mention this to His Majesty, and if thou dare, thou shalt face the punishment of getting thy tongue cut out.”

Nanami’s eyes widened. “But Your Majesty…”

You pressed your hand firmly against the table and asserted your authority over him. “I have ownership of a couple of remote islands near the outskirts of Caelum. Surely, thou art aware of them? I will instruct my father, the Grand Duke, to transfer one of the larger estates to thee. Additionally, I shall provide thee with a quarter of my jewels and 15000 celestas as a deposit. In exchange, I command thee to retire from thy position and never again engage in conversation with my husband.”

It was a fair bargain. The man was certainly considering that because not only would he secure his own land and riches, he would also be away from the dangers of the plague should it truly spread throughout Caelum and its nearby nations. He would be safe there in his own estate with enough money to retire early. “Empress… whatever it may be that thou art planning, this is treason.” 

“This or punishment is thy only option,” you stated, eyes burning with fire. “Make wisely of thy choice.” 

⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶♱⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐕𝐈𝐈

The preparation for the New Year’s ball was arduous, and you spared no effort to ensure that every detail lived up to Caelum’s prestige. Because you had a generous budget allocation for this year's banquet, you did not hold back on the display of wealth, power, and culinary sophistication. The menu alone boasted elaborate roast meats, poultry dishes, pies, pastries, desserts, and confections, accompanied by a variety of wines and spirits to enhance the indulgent dining experience. More so, the smell of luxurious dishes inside the grand hall would be enough to water the mouths of the guests.

Invitations were extended not only to the nobility within the capital but also throughout the empire, welcoming all to partake in the feast as long as they came from noble houses. The theme, as initially requested by your husband, was black and silver to match the regalia, although this theme did not extend to the guests. They were free to choose their attire as they pleased, with the only restriction being to avoid the loud colors that represented Astheryn. 

It was well-known that Caelum’s nobility enjoyed flaunting their wealth and status among themselves, further highlighting the perception of the empire as superficial and governed by leaders who indulged in unethical opulence. While you may have denied such rumors, the truth remained: such ostentatious display of wealth was a century-long tradition upheld by the Gojou family to showcase the Caelum Empire as the wealthiest and most powerful across the central continent. If there was anyone Satoru should blame for this excessive extravagance, it should be his ancestors. Not you.

As the empress of this nation and the person who oversaw these types of celebrations, you saw it fit to wear an elegant gown befitting your status. You were dressed in a majestic gown of midnight black velvet, intricately embroidered with religious motifs and adorned with pearls and jewels that glimmered in the candlelight. A towering headpiece, resplendent with silver filigree and bedight with twisted crosses and angelic figures, rested upon your head as a symbol of your pretentious reverence for the church. You moved through the banquet hall with regal grace and elegance, a vision of piety and power, with your outward display of devotion masking the darkness of your thoughts inside. 

Next to you was your tyrant husband, whose attire was an obsidian velvet of the finest kind. Around his waist was a thick belt of black leather cinching the robe, its buckle emblazoned with the imperial insignia. His chest was bedecked with a chainmail hauberk, a display to his martial prowess and readiness for battle, while a silver mantle was draped over his shoulders, adding to his imposing presence. Upon his head sat a crown of gleaming silver encrusted with onyx and obsidian stones. 

“Long live the Emperor and the Empress! May Their Majesties reign be blessed!” 

Upon your entrance down the staircase to the Grand Hall, the guests offered their curtsies and salutations to you and your husband to show their deference and recognition to the imperialty. The nobles had their chance at a brief greeting with the imperial family based on their ranking, although Satoru showed little to no care for those at the lower ranks. Nonetheless, those of lower statuses devotedly sought to curry his favor and prove their allegiance to him. 

He is naught but a fool, you thought inwardly as you watched your husband dismiss a mere count. Satoru must not have realized that those he considered of lower ranking were often the most loyal to him. They were driven by their wish to climb the upper echelon of high society, therefore, they would go to great lengths to gain recognition from the emperor. Conversely, if push comes to shove, those of higher statuses would be the first ones to turn their backs on the imperial family, as they already possessed the wealth and status to sustain their own estates and exclude themselves from the rest of the empire. 

“Lords and Ladies, esteemed guests, and subjects of my realm,” Satoru spoke with gracious authority as he stood by his throne, looking down on the nobility before him, “I stand before thee on this very occasion, the commencement of a new year, to address the empire that rests beneath mine unwavering rule. As thy Emperor, I look upon the vast land that stretches beneath me, and aim to build great cities, forge mighty alliances, and expand our dominion to the farthest reaches of the known world. This eve, we gather not merely to celebrate the turning of the calendar, but to reaffirm the absolute authority that guides our great empire. Let it be known, plainly and honorably, that the prosperity of this realm is intrinsically tied to the strength of its ruler. In my hands, I hold the reins of power, and I shall steer this ship through tumultuous waters with an unshakable resolve. Those who seek to challenge the stability of our empire will find themselves met with the full force of imperial might. Let this banquet serve as a reminder—a celebration of the empire's indomitable strength and an acknowledgment of the consequences that befall those who dare to defy it. Raise thy goblets high, my loyal subjects, for we embark upon another year under the banner of unassailable authority.”

Satoru might be a terrible spouse, but he certainly was not a terrible emperor. He asserted his authority when it demanded him the most, and he knew well enough how to make his subjects cower in terror at every word he spoke. His speech was a simple warning not only to the nobles, but perhaps also to you, as he believed the prophecy pictured you as a traitor to his reign. 

Initially, you could say he was wrong and that never in a million years would you betray the same person you helped ascend the throne. But now that his resolve was to entirely eliminate you in order to succeed in his ambitions, you would not deny such grave accusations of treason on your part. He deserved a taste of his own medicine. It was only too bad for him that he had no knowledge of what you knew, and that was exactly why you were ten steps ahead of him. 

The sound of classical music served as a backdrop for the banquet, with the dulcet sounds of flutes, harps, and viols creating an elegant ambiance through the hall. The nobles worked on their usual slobber and socialization, usually reserved for recently debuted ladies to mark their own impressions within high society. The males were often there to discuss lands and politics or to be in search of their bride who would become the next noble ladies of their respective houses. The scene reminded you of your happy days as a once noble lady, a daughter of a duke, who was also the most popular and most eligible bride for Crown Prince Satoru among all of the nobility within the Caelum Empire. Back then, your biggest rivals were Lady Anastasia de Florentine and Lady Serena de Visconti. Both ladies came from esteemed houses and had therefore become a threat to your desire to be Crown Princess. In terms of beauty, talent, and elegance; they were definitely strong contenders. What they lacked was the wit, the cunningness in which you pride yourself with, as you ended up becoming Satoru’s choice as his empress. 

You were aware that Satoru spent his years as a prince dallying with other noble ladies, even courtesans, as he himself was fair in the face. And he was aware that the ill-fate that had befallen some of those ladies were due to your own cruel doing. You tormented any lady that vied for his attention. It was not until he gave in and got to know what you offered did he stop fooling around with random whores, deeming them unworthy to stand next to him as they served no purpose for him in the long run. You offered a better role to him than the rest of them, especially with your skill as a tactician and your family’s background in the military and weaponry department which all came in handy at the time of his usurpation to the throne. 

In other words, he knew how evil you could be since day one. And benefited from you because of it. 

“What plagues thy mind?” he asked, holding your waist and your hand as you both gracefully danced in pavane. His hair was neatly brushed away from his forehead tonight, with a few stubborn strands dangling on the side. “How awfully silent.” 

You stared at his bright blue eyes coruscating under the chandeliers, noticing how his gaze wandered to a noble lady. “It matters not to thee.” 

Satoru then narrowed his eyes at your coldness. “It matters much to me. What is this foolish act art thou playing at?” 

“A foolish act of playing the role of thy wife,” you answered briefly and sternly. “Dost this banquet satisfy thee? I have invited the empire’s most beautiful and most eligible ladies to be thy concubine. All of age and of noble background so worry not. Thou may choose anyone to thy liking, so the best be with thee.” 

The offense you caused was evident in his visage. As much as it entertained you, he was clearly enraged and on the verge of losing it. You already knew he would just remind you yet again that he wanted to remarry instead of getting a concubine, but it was too good of a reaction to pass up on. In fact, he stared at you blankly, speechless for a few moments as he processed the implications of your words. “This is the game you play?” he murmurs through gritted teeth, a hint of a scowl forming on his face. Conflicting emotions surged within him, a mixture of anger and hurt, yet ultimately he chose not to give you the reaction you seemed to seek. “I will humor thee. Where be these concubines thou dost speak of?”

You scoffed, and then laughed out loud to the point where it gained the curious stares of the nobles. “Wherefore, look everywhere and haply may thy eager eyes find them,” you answered in absolute joy. “That is all they shall be; mere concubines. If thou prefer a young and ripe virgin, that is also possible—”

“Do not get smart with me,” Satoru warned, grabbing a tight hold of your chin. The muscles along his jaw tensed. “Thou art but a petulant wench, a mere ornament next to my throne, lacking the wit and wisdom to comprehend the weight of imperial decree. The matters of remarriage are not simply to jest about. Know thy place, woman, and heed the consequences of thy impudence."

“Is that a threat?” You returned his glare, now feeling all eyes on the both of you. The thick air of tension permeated the hall like a cloud of incoming thunderstorm.

The emperor was not one to show weakness in front of public eyes, now displaying an authoritarian mien to his wife as he tightened his hold on your jaw. “Take it as thou may.”  

In defense to your wounded pride, you shoved his hand away and maintained a rigid poise. “Keep thy filthy hands off me, you usurping tyrant.” 

As tension crackled through the hall, a hushed unease descended upon the assembled guests. Murmurs  rippled through the crowd like a gathering tornado, and uneasy glances were darted between the nobles and servants as they witnessed the brewing disagreements of their imperial rulers. Some averted their gaze, feigning disinterest, while others leaned in with rapt attention, hungry for the spectacle unfolding before them. 

Meanwhile, Satoru was forcing a laugh at your chosen insult. Calling him a usurper really hit a nerve, as always. “Watch that foul-tongued mouth,” he warned once more, “Barren wretch!”

Approaching one of the palace sentinels halfway across the hall, you countered your husband’s heavy footsteps by drawing out a sword from a knight’s scabbard, thereupon making a swift turn to point the silver brand directly at his throat. You had not even realized that it was Suguru’s sword that you took. Deadly silence instantly spanned the hallway, and even the tick tock of the nearby clock had stopped because of the rising tension between Caleum’s reigning monarchs. 

But with one sword raised at the emperor’s neck, twenty more were directed back at the empress. Satoru’s loyal knights were quick to trap you in full circle to protect their sovereign ruler, forcing you to submit and restrain yourself from moving the sword any closer to the emperor’s throat. 

Unfortunately for him, being submissive was no longer in your repertoire. 

“You dare commit treason in mine own palace?!” Your husband’s venomous blue eyes bore holes into your skull—his mouth thinning in displeasure as you stayed unwavered by his imperious tone. “Thou art too brave for an empress consort!” 

“That is rich coming from a usurper himself!” you countered, satisfied by the spasm of irritation crossing his face. “Have as many concubines and courtesans as thou wish, but never disrespect me in front of my people. Treat me not as though I am lower than a mistress merely because I am childless to thee. Dare you not look down at me for I am an empress first ere I am thy wife.”

What kind of psychopath was that man, truly? 

You left the hall as soon as you said those prideful words, no longer wishing to hear what more intelligible things he had to say to you and of the preposterous scene in which you engaged. The more time you spent with him, the more you realized how much you had come to despise every fiber of his being. He was an ungrateful imbecile who would slay his own kin at the price of his ambitions. You may have started the quarrel, but he did not need to escalate it and put his filthy blood-stained hands on you in front of the nobles. His goal might be to put you in your rightful place, but he chose the wrong person to be his empress. That choice alone was the start of his tragic flaw. 

And with that disrespect would soon come his downfall. 

⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶♱⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐕𝐈𝐈𝐈

Satoru struggled to comprehend the shift in your demeanor toward him and the words you chose to speak to him. He found your behavior baffling, as if you had lost touch with reason to be acting such a lunatic. You were out of your bloody mind! What could have driven you to act so irrationally, becoming incensed at every little remark he made? Was it solely because he expressed a desire to remarry for the sake of an heir and requested you to step down from your throne? No, your anger seemed to stem from deeper roots than mere marital disagreements. The hostility in your eyes said so, and it was the kind that mirrored the animosity he had witnessed in his ancestors towards their rival empire. That was the level of rancor you had of him. 

Or could this be the dreaded prophecy coming to life? 

Maximilian had been warning him that the prophecy was becoming truer day-by-day, and that the only way to ultimately prevent it was to banish you. It should be easy, truly, since Satoru had no problems slaying his own kin and hundreds of men. Why should another soul like yours cause such an impact on him? 

Yet, Satoru found himself unable to take that step. The reasons eluded him. What he despised, however, was your increasing defiance. You were no longer the submissive wife he had grown accustomed to. Albeit your inherently strong personality, you had never before lashed out at him, insulted him, raised your voice, or shown him any form of antagonism. You always let him win arguments and understood your place. Extravagant gifts like luxurious silk dresses, rare jewels, and exotic fragrances used to be enough to maintain your compliance. Were his gifts no longer sufficient to appease you? What more did you desire from him? 

Love? 

How preposterous. Love was no gift.

The emperor cussed under his breath as he slid the robe off his shoulder and stepped inside the tub, soaking his naked body under the warm fragrant water. He raked his fingers through his wet, white hair, leaning his head back as he stared at the ceiling. It never occurred to him that his eyebrows had furrowed as his thoughts of you had consumed him. A small part of him yearned to punish you for your recent behavior, while a larger part of him longed to pursue you. He desired to regain your trust and devotion, no matter how absurd it might seem to others. How else could he manipulate someone who harbored such animosity towards him? You had been easier to control when you saw him past his selfishness, turning a blind eye as long as he played the role of the loyal husband.

Fine, if it was disloyalty that enraged you so, then he would show you. In another way. That the loyalty you seek still possessed him somewhere. 

The subject of his plan stood in his privy chamber, assisting him as he bathed that morning. He had long noticed this particular servant's subtle attempts at seducing him, but had always chosen to ignore her as he never felt tempted to indulge. Instead, he found it somewhat amusing that she would willingly display her body to him in private settings like this. Perhaps, he mused, it was a message to him, indicating her desire to ascend to high society by becoming his concubine. She likely sought to escape her life as a mere peasant and elevate herself to the status of a noble lady. She may have even heard of his sexual escapades back then as a wayward prince who entertained different ladies in his chamber before he married you. That was probably why she wanted to take advantage of the carnal weakness that she thought still lingered within him. 

This strumpet. Satoru scoffed inwardly as he watched his personal maid pick up the bottle of lavender oil from the floor. She had purposely unbuttoned the top most part of her attire so that her voluptuous breasts would pop out like two balloons sitting on her chests. Appearance wise, it was clear that she had tried to put on cheap rouge from vermillion or beetroot juice, tinting her lips a brighter red than usual to complement her fiery, ginger hair. Her eyes were lined sharp from the soot, as though she was trying to resemble the empress’ seductive eyes. 

“Your Majesty,” she spoke in a seductive voice, finding her seat at the edge of the tub as she poured the fragrant oil on the hot water. She raised her skirt higher as an obvious attempt to show off her legs, and offered a better view of her huge breasts as she leaned forward. Now that she was closer to him, he could see her taut nipples peeking behind her thin layer of clothing. “Wouldst thou desire for me to bathe thee?”

His lips may have curled upwards into a smirk, but his eyes were as terrifyingly sharp as ever. “Dost thou seek death?”

Her eyes widened in surprise, feigning her innocence as she received his warning. “Nay, Your Majesty! I do not seek such.” 

“Why art thou so bold to think thy body is more desirable than the empress’?” He began to question her pride, and later put her stupidity into good use. She would be the perfect pawn for him to win his wife’s favor again. “My wife hath the most perfect figure I have seen in a woman, and thine is what? Thou boast of thy breasts that resemble a cow’s?” 

“I…” The servant stammered, clearly offended as she got up from her seat and attempted to mask the embarrassment that appeared on her face. Satoru raised an eyebrow and waited for her response, while she gathered her courage to deny his claims. “Forgive me, my lord, if I have offended thee.” 

Satoru shook his head in amusement. “What is thy aim, then, if not to inveigle me into bedding thee? I do not consort with trollops.”

Caught red-handed, she stumbled and bowed her head at the lowest possible level before him. “I beg thy pardon, Your Imperial Majesty! I merely sought to aid thee in the birthing of an heir. I am not barren unlike Her Majesty the Empress, and I can assure thee I will bear fruit even if thou only dost me once.” 

“Get on thy knees,” he ordered, stepping out of the tub and wrapping his bare body with a robe. “Thy know that to be certain?”

Her eyes pleaded for desperation to become his mistress. “Certain, yes! I am certain, my lord! And I will be a loyal subject to thee unlike the empress—”

“Pardon?” As if her words intrigued his ears. In a swift motion, he turned to the servant and looked down at her with his cold, scrutinizing eyes. “Unlike the empress? Repeat thy words with caution. Thou art maligning the most noble woman of this empire.” 

It did look like she found her way out of his criticism by directing his ill-temper towards his wife. “Your Majesty, I am not maligning thy wife. ‘Tis true that Her Majesty is having an affair with your commander of knights! Some days ago did I see the empress and Sir Suguru in an intimate embrace, running through the halls as though they wish not be seen!” 

The emperor's expression hardened at the servant's accusation, his brows furrowing with disbelief and anger. His hand tightened into a fist as he processed the shocking revelation.

“Is this the truth thou speaketh?” His voice was low, carrying a dangerous edge that hinted at the storm brewing within him. The accusation struck at the very core of his trust and authority.

The servant's gaze faltered under the weight of the emperor's scrutiny, but she remained resolute. “Your Majesty, I speak only what I have witnessed with mine own eyes. By my troth and by God’s bones, I swear by all that is holy, it is no falsehood.”

Satoru’s mind raced with conflicting emotions, but he showed none of his inward thoughts outwardly. Instead, he delighted in this ideal opportunity for him to deal with gaining your devotion again. 

“Undress thyself. I want thou bare and without any clothing," he said, his voice cold and measured, “and thou shalt remain in this chamber until my return.”

With that, the emperor swept out of the privy chamber at once, leaving behind a stunned and apprehensive servant. She believed it to be her sign of good luck. Of good fate. That she now found her place as a mistress to the highest ruler of this nation. She could not believe her destiny as she triumphantly unclothed herself, peeling every fabric off her body with excitement as she imagined the things the emperor would do to her upon his return. She would definitely have to deal with his wrath since he just found out that the empress betrayed her, but she was willing to have him use her body and let his anger out on his adulterous wife. An emperor with a distracted mind would be her ticket to being impregnated by his child. Soon, she would be his concubine, she would be the mother of a future emperor. 

She would never again have to suffer as a servant! 

Upon the sound of footsteps nearing the privy chamber, the servant provocatively sat at the edge of the tub, displaying all of her body to him and him alone. “Your Majesty, I am ready for thee.” 

“Art thou?” 

Horror washed over the servant’s face, her heartbeat increasing tenfold as she saw the empress sending an icy stare into her as she stood by the privy chamber’s entrance. Behind her were her ladies-in-waiting throwing their judgeful stares at the naked servant, surrounded by knights who seemed to have come under the emperor’s orders. The emperor! There he was, appearing behind the empress, kissing her cheek and encircling her waist, whispering to her that the servant had attempted to seduce him and had even accused his wife of infidelity. Satoru's actions struck the servant as reminiscent of a child tattling to his mother. He adopted an air of artificial innocence, as if his only intention were to win the empress' trust.

“Send this harlot to the throne room,” he commanded his knights, his voice loud and clear. “Let it be known that there will be consequences for those who dare to deceive their emperor.”

At the throne room, you found yourself seated at the elevated throne next to your husband. This was a place in the castle where the trials of the accused were often held, and now the accused kneeling before you on the lower part of the hall was a lowly maid which Satoru had claimed to have seduced him and besmirched your name. 

Did he think you were stupid? You knew what his ulterior motives were. You were aware of his covert schemes, and that his sole attempt at orchestrating this entire spectacle was to use the maid to regain your trust and obedience out of gratitude. He was clearly at an unrest ever since you had been defiant to him and he was doing the best that he could to make you submit to him. He was desperate to show you that he was on your side and believed that by reporting the maid's advances, he could convince you of his loyalty. Satoru must truly underestimate your intelligence if he thought that such acts would restore his control over you. But for the sake of a good show, you decided to play along. 

As customary, the emperor presided over the trial, while the accused maid stood before the imperialty, her eyes downcast, while whispers could be heard through the assembled courtiers.

Satoru announced her sin in a commanding yet measured voice. “Maiden, thou stand accused of attempting to seduce the sovereign and spreading slanderous falsehoods regarding Her Majesty's honor. These are grave charges that strike at the very foundation of our empire.” 

The accused maid trembled slightly but remained silent, her gaze fixed on the ground. She seemed to be having a battle in her head, realizing that she was being used by the emperor’s cruel game. What did she expect of him? You rolled your eyes. Satoru was a known tyrant. She would never last a day being his mistress, much less a concubine. You were the only lady in this empire that could handle him.

The emperor then turned to you as he continued with his speech. “As for thee, my wife, thou hast been accused of a betrayal that, if true, would bring shame upon the imperial family.” He paused, his expression grave yet thoughtful. “Therefore, I shall entrust the judgment and punishment of this matter to thee. Thou alone knowest the truth of these accusations, and it is thy virtue and integrity that shall guide our course of justice.”

You wanted to laugh at how ridiculous this was. Now he was even entrusting the maid’s punishment to you? His tactic obviously consisted of two things: 1) giving you the authority to impose punishment on the accused would make you liable for the consequences tied to the matter 2) if proven not guilty, you would have to face the shame of your misguided punishment. Because Satoru was not certain that you were having an affair, he was putting you on the spot to decide the punishment you would give based on your conscience. 

Either that or he may have simply intended to convey trust in your judgment by allowing you to administer punishment. This could be a gesture aimed at restoring your sense of authority and influence within the palace. However, given the complexities of your relationship and the context of the situation, it was likely that his motives were more layered and multifaceted.

“How dost it strike thee, Empress?” Satoru asked in a strangely calm mien. “Mayhap we can give her ten or twenty whips? Have her sent out to the dungeons or the west tower?” 

Oh, did he assume you were not capable of being creative with punishments? You were not one to shy away from brutality like him. In fact, you had something better in store for this servant of his. 

The courtiers listened intently, their eyes locked upon you as you spoke. “It is my judgment that the maid shall be subjected to the punishment befitting her transgressions.”

A hushed murmur erupted through the assembled crowd as they awaited the empress’ decree.

“Firstly, the maid shall be paraded through the streets of our capital, stripped of her garments and bearing the shame of her actions for all to see. Let her walk the path of humility, that she may reflect upon the consequences of her deeds.” Your cruel words carried a weight of overwhelming gravity as you announced the first part of the punishment and proceeded to the next. “Furthermore, the maid shall be delivered unto the custody of our executioners, who shall mete out the final aspect of her punishment. Let her be subjected to the pear of anguish, that she may atone for her sins and serve as a warning to all who would dare besmirch the name of their sovereign.”

The courtiers exchanged somber glances, trembling out of fear at the severity of your inhumane judgment. Even Satoru himself was shocked at the lengths you had chosen to take just to punish a lowly maid. Why was he surprised? He, himself, was entertained at the usage of the brazen bull, roasting his enemies alive as a punishment. The pear of anguish was not even as severe as his usual choices, as its purpose was to have a pear-shaped instrument be inserted in the maid’s vagina, and expand it to the point of internal injuries and mutilation. 

“No! No! Your Majesty!” she cried, her words choked with emotion. She quivered in terror and fell to her knees. “I beg of thee, have mercy upon me! Spare me from such unspeakable agony! Forgive me for my transgressions and the harm I have caused. Pray, grant me the chance to repent and seek forgiveness. I shall never again show myself to thee. Prithee… Empress Y/N… Spare me from this horror, I beg of thee!”

Her voice echoed through the hall with her desperate plea for clemency amidst the shadow of her impending doom. In the silence that followed, your eyes caught the guilt spreading on Satoru’s face. His blue eyes were, for a second, wide and horrified. But he was quick to compose himself and keep yet again a rigid face. 

“Very well.” Satoru gestured to his knights to take the maid away. “Do as my wife says.” 

“My liege, this is preposterous!” In the midst of the tense atmosphere, one advisor, a voice of dissent, stepped forward, his expression grave and his tone measured. Lord Maximilian was only intending to address the emperor, completely ignoring your right as the empress. “Your Majesty, the Emperor,” the advisor spoke respectfully but with conviction, “I humbly beseech thee to reconsider this severe course of action. The pear of anguish, in particular, is a device of unparalleled cruelty. The punishment is more severe than the crime committed!” He paused, choosing his words carefully. “I propose a more measured punishment, one that upholds the dignity of your sovereign without plunging us into the depths of brutality. Mayhap a period of confinement or hard labor could serve as a more merciful yet effective means of retribution. This way, Your Majesty, we demonstrate both strength and compassion that define thy sovereign rule.”

“Compassion?” you scoffed, humored by Lord Maximilian’s little speech. His pretentiousness was truly out of this world. He was obviously against it because he refused to see your authority over the court restored. He had not even a single idea that you were already aware that he had been conspiring with your husband to execute you. “Thou speak of compassion and mercy, Lord Maximilian, when this empire had seen the ruthless perish of a thousand Christian souls under your counsel to the emperor. Is that not irony? What about the body of his lordship, Count Stefano, that thou order’d to be skinned alive? Or what about the corpses of men speared on pikes by the Tiber River? Now, tell me about that compassion.” 

Satoru, stuck in the situation, scanned the throne room and searched for his voice of reason. The man who always stood his ground between good and evil. Lord Nanami. Yet the man was nowhere to be found. “Is Lord Nanami hither? Call him forth to me.” 

“I am afraid not, my liege,” spoke one of the courtiers, “He had left Your Majesty a letter advising of his immediate need to be on a sabbatical. Cited he no reasons as to why.”

“Is that so?” your husband’s face contorted into confusion, while you were exchanging glances with Suguru, who seemed slightly aware of your participation in Nanami’s sudden absence. Howbeit, he spoke no words about it. 

And no one else also said another word, therefore, leaving Satoru to move forward with your decision on the punishment. If he was smart, he should see that your decision was not just a mere punishment to the maid but as a warning from you, that he was not the only person in this empire capable of being a tyrant. That you, as devoted as you used to be, could also be cruel if you wanted to be. 

You ignored the maid’s screams of terror as the knights took her away. You kept a dignified appearance and walked out of the throne room, followed by your ladies-in-waiting as they engaged in gossip about the maid and how she had always spoken badly of the empress. You wished you cared, but truthfully, you were far too nauseated as you walked through the hallway heading towards the western wing of the castle, hearing your husband’s voice calling your name. 

What did he need? Your gratitude? Your declaration of love? Your pledge of allegiance? 

Frankly, you cared none, as your extreme nausea eventually had your visions blurred, and your body fainting on the marble floor. 

⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶♱⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐈𝐗

Your head ached.

By the time you opened your eyes again, it was already past noontide. No, it was evening, was it? You were lying in Satoru’s bed while its owner was engrossed in a conversation with a physician. You briefly recounted the events before you were carried here, remembering the trial at the throne room, and you fainting while walking back to your side of the palace. 

“Art thou certain?” 

“I am certain Her Majesty is with child, yes.” 

“How is that possible? Tried have we for eight long years.” 

“We owe this blessing to God, my liege. Thy wish for an heir hath come to fruition.” 

You were… with child? 

You could not believe it. As the whispered revelation reached your ears, the news brought you a swirl of emotions, for the delicate life growing within your womb just challenged the very foundations of your plans. A child. A baby. A life was growing inside of you! It was not just any other life, but an heir to the throne! A byproduct of you and your husband!

But what about your revenge? 

You had a moment of introspection as you imagined yourself at a crossroad of destiny. Should you persist with your plot to topple your husband's rule, or should you embrace the newfound responsibility and safeguard the legacy that had taken root within you? The precipice of your decision would depend on Satoru’s reaction to this matter. Your decision would fall upon his level of trust in you. 

For eight years, you had always wanted to carry his child. You had always dreamed of bearing his heir. This was the very reason why the prophecy existed in the first place, and now that you were pregnant, should that mean that he would no longer find the need to remarry and execute you? Should that mean that the prophecy was false after all? The oracle was a heretic through and through and he never should have consulted with her to begin with!

“My wife.” The gentle caress of Satoru’s voice soothed your aching head. It only took you then to realize that the physician had already left you two alone, and now your husband was sitting on the edge of his bed, touching your cheek. “To think,” he mumbled, his voice tinged with wonder, “that our union has borne fruit at last. An heir to carry forth this legacy of mine.” 

He was joyous. He was surging with happiness which was glowing within him, the kind of joy that you had never seen before as he embraced his beloved wife and shared the news. For a moment, your heart melted and you were ready to forsake the grudge you carried in your heart as he proved his reaction to be genuine. His eyes sparkled like jewels as he placed a soft kiss on your belly, then moving to press his lips onto yours. 

You wanted to cry. You wanted to tear up as never in your life had you received this much level of affection from your own husband. He had never looked at you with such adoration and respect for the longest time since he had been with you. No, this was the very first time he had truly acknowledged you as his wife. 

“Am I no longer useless unto thee?” you asked, carrying a hint of sadness on your tone despite smiling at him. “Shall I no longer be called a barren empress?” 

Satoru solemnly shook his head and kissed your hand, your cheek, and your lips. “No. Each tongue that rises ‘gainst my wife shall fall.” 

You were uncertain whether it was you or him who pulled each other for an embrace, but the gravity that brought you to two together was of mutual force. He held you in his arms tenderly just as you enveloped yourself in his warmth. So this is how it feels like to be loved? You were in complete bliss. You were free from the emotional torment that—

Knock, knock! 

The abrupt knock on the door interrupted the intimate moment between you and your husband, diverting his attention to the intruder who dared disrupt the special moment. Satoru, no doubt, was already thinking of potential punishments in his mind as he summoned his attendant to enter. The attendant conveyed that a knight sought an urgent audience with him, but what could be so urgent at this dead of night? 

The intruder, to your surprise, was none other than his knight commander Suguru. 

“Suguru?” Satoru faced him with a more lenient countenance, “Speak briefly.” 

The knight commander glanced at you before he knelt on one knee and looked at the carpeted floor, delivering a message that required urgent and utmost attention. “Your Imperial Majesty, we have discovered a group of knights clad in silver armor, mounted upon war horses lining the city’s border. My men have identified the potential invaders as the Aurorae Heavy Cavalry of the Astheryn Empire.” 

“What?!” Just like Satoru’s explosive reaction, you were also surprised by the news. You knew Astheryn was ready for war, but you did not expect them to move so rashly. Satoru knew he was right to conduct a military inspection a week prior, because now, in spite of his growing temperament, he was also mentally prepared for an all-out war. “Those Astheryn bastards! How many are they?!” 

“Estimated at about 6000 units, my liege.” 

Your eyes widened in disbelief. Thousands of foreign soldiers stationed at the border of the Caelum Empire was undeniably an invasion. The audacity of this act, carried out without any prior communication to Satoru, no wonder fueled his anger like a volcano on the brink of eruption. It was a blatant disrespect to him as an emperor and to his lands as an empire.

“Double the numbers of our infantrymen and dispatch them to the border!” Satoru's voice carried a low growl, his hand instinctively reaching to massage his temples as he pondered a course of action. “They must comprise our most elite unit. I demand these men be vigilant and alert at all times. Anyone caught sleeping will have their eyes gouged,” he ordered, his tone reflecting the gravity of the situation. His eyes held fury in them as he silently paced back and forth in his chamber. However, just as Suguru made to depart, Satoru's hand halted him mid-step. “Better yet, remain here and stand guard over my wife," he commanded, his voice taut with resolve. “I will issue the orders to the army personally and confer with my chief tactician.”

Your husband had already left before you could even stop him. His presence, in a mere blink of an eye, was gone as he stormed out of the chamber, yelling out, “That bastard Toji will die by my hands. How dare he!” 

And now you were left with his commander of knights, Suguru, who looked at you in concern as you made an attempt to get out of bed. He was quick to catch you in his arms, guiding you to walk carefully. “Is it true?” you asked, face inches close to him. You could feel his hand on your waist, and the other guiding your arm. “Astheryn’s invasion?” 

“Empress, it is imperative that thou remain within the safety of His Majesty’s chamber," Suguru advised, his fox-like eyes seemingly enamored by your face. “Thy well-being is paramount, especially now. I see now why thy radiance has been so pronounced of late.”

You smiled at his words. "And what might thou be implying by that?"

“That our beautiful empress bears the heir to the empire,” he spoke softly. “This is a direct contradiction to the prophecy. Art thou pleased, my lady?”

As you nodded, you felt Suguru placing a gentle kiss above your hand, still kneeling before you like a true, loyal knight. He looked at you with a gaze filled with the desire to protect. His chivalry was evident in his demeanor toward you, the most beautiful lady of the empire. Unbeknownst to you, Suguru had long been captivated by your beauty. From the moment he first came to your family’s estate to train as a knight, he harbored a wanton desire for you. Yet, he struggled with his feelings, torn between his admiration for you and his loyalty to Satoru, his friend and lord. How could he? He should punish himself for having a mere attraction to the emperor’s wife. 

“Suguru, I expect thy loyalty to me until the very end,” you interrupted his reverie, bringing him back to the present. He held your hand tenderly, and your waist affectionately. “Can I count on that from thee?”

Before the knight could respond, a fit of unhinged laughter echoed through the chamber. There, your crazed husband walked in, his sardonically joyful eyes wide with paranoia. “Ha ha ha! Absurd! Utterly preposterous!” His loud voice reverberated through the walls, his mind now free of the on-going invasion and was instead evidently consumed by the scene before him. “My wife, thou jest, surely? Suguru, tell me this is some jest! Loyalty, indeed, I have full faith in thy loyalty, but this... the maid’s accusation. It is true after all?!” 

Immediately, the knight commander moved away from you and scrambled to kneel down at the furious emperor. You yourself could not hide your growing anxiety, but it was best to keep calm and explain the situation to your husband properly. 

“My liege, ‘tis not what it seems,” Suguru swore to your husband, who was now laughing manically. 

“Ah, a conspiracy unfolds!” Satoru’s eyes darted between you and his friend. “I see it now, the hidden plots, the whispers in the shadows. My wife and my loyal knight, plotting against me! Speak, reveal the treachery!” 

You shook your head, maintaining your composure. “He speaks true. There is no affair—”

“Fie, you wicked bitch!” By this time, Satoru was throwing a tantrum, kicking the nearby console table and throwing the first vase he saw. 

Suguru rose, his voice pleading, "Your Majesty, I..."

“Get out or I will eviscerate thee in front of her!” Satoru's words cut through the tension, and Suguru, after a moment of hesitation, took a deep breath and left, casting a worried glance at you before exiting. It was clear that Satoru was in a state of manic denial, with his laughter echoing through the chamber like a haunting refrain.

Alone with him now, you observed his demeanor, noting the same scene of past trauma in his laughter. It was reminiscent of the night his sister perished for committing suicide—a portrait of a man on the brink of madness, masking his torment with deranged laughter. Each step he took towards you carried danger. “This... This child thou carry is a bastard, is it not? That child is not mine!”

You shot him a look of disbelief, refusing to entertain such absurd accusations. “Thou art speaking folly!”

Enraged, he seized another vase and hurled it across the room, the sound of shattering porcelain ringing through the chamber, though you maintained your composure despite the sudden chaos. You must not act weak in front of a tyrant. At this rate, he could kill out of impulse, but you were careful not to pull the trigger.

“My wife thinks I am lost in a mire of absurdity?” Satoru’s laugh rang in your ears again. “Conniving bitch! Tell me, this child thou carry, what do I do with that awful thing? Shall I cut thy stomach and pull the thing out myself?”

Slap! A resounding slap, sharp and clear, graced Satoru's cheek as his words drew tears from your eyes. Despite the welling tears, you mustered enough courage to respond. “If thou question the lineage of this child, then is that not a question to thine own fertility? Dost thou deem thyself barren, unable to sire thine own bloodline? If so, thou hast long scorned me for lacking an heir, yet now thou cast doubt upon the child that I carry. Useless, thou have call’d me. Now, useless, thou call thyself! A barren emperor, unable to secure his own legacy, is that what thou perceive thyself to be?”

“Hold that tongue, thou impudent wench!” With a rough hand, he grabbed your arm and tightened his hold so much so that it would leave bruises. “Lo, here stand I, grappling with a war that hath the power to shape or shatter mine own legacy, whilst mine own wife doth gad about like a wanton whore?”

A whore? You laughed, as equally maniacal as him. No, a lot worse than him. How foolish of you to think that your husband was someone you could trust your life with? You could not believe that you almost let your guard down in front of him after you learned that you were carrying his child. Yet here he was, spouting nonsense like an absolute fool. He only judged what he saw, not analyzed what he was yet to know. This was exactly why Emperor Toji would always be a smarter ruler than him. 

“I am thy wife, and I have stood by thy side through thick and thin. I have shared thy lows and highs. I have seated thee at that very throne! Therefore, I will not dignify such insults with a response.” Each word left your mouth with gritted teeth. This was your future, peeled off for your eyes to see. No matter how much you cared for him, no matter how loyal you were to him, no matter how much love you offered to him; you were naught but a woman ready to be thrown at his disposal. It hurt. Truly, it hurt. And because you loved him, you tried holding onto the thin string of hope that he was true to you. That even if he could not love you, he still trusted you. That was the foundation of your relationship from the beginning. Trust. And that will be your ultimatum to him. So, with a shaky voice and tearful eyes, you asked, “I require nothing else from thee but this… dost thou trust me?” 

His answer was a make or break. 

His answer would determine whether you would carry your plans out or not. 

Because if he said yes, then you would forsake everything and be loyal to him without his unconditional love. 

But if he said no, then there was no point at being his wife when your role would always be easily replaced. 

Satoru’s stolid mien was an answer in itself, because his blank gaze and unsympathetic expression sent your heart to the deepest layer of hell. “No,” he declared, “I never have and never will.” 

⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶♱⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐗

Four days. 

Or perhaps five? 

The days blurred into an indistinguishable haze since your husband's decree consigned you to the confines of the west tower. Unlike the dungeon, reserved for commoners and lower ranks, the western tower housed nobility and imperial captives. Though superior in amenities, it remained a prison in essence. There was only a solitary window within the cell that offered a small glimpse of the world beyond. The view was barely within your reach as it was too high up for you to be able to see outside. 

You were treated no less than a rebel. Accused of treason. Accused of infidelity. Your reputation as an empress was tarnished, excluded from social circles, excommunicated by the church—at least, these were some of the things you have heard from the passerby, the attendants who do their nightly rounds in the west tower. The attendants and guards themselves no longer respected you, although you could still sense that they were cautious around you. Afraid that if the emperor were to change his mind and release you, that you would remember their faces and get back at them with brutal repercussions. 

It was entertaining, truly. It was even more humorous to watch the attendant serve you with soup and bread day and night. Judging by the distinct odor, the soup was laced with arsenic. Someone was definitely trying to poison you, but you were certain that it was not orchestrated by Satoru. Not him. He was too stupid to conjure such a plan as it also contradicted his penchant for more direct and violent approaches. If he wanted to assassinate someone, he would rather crack their skulls or slash them in half. He was too bloodthirsty to kill someone by means of poison. 

So that left you with one person: Lord Maximilian. 

Your father, the Grand Duke, promptly sent you a letter after hearing that you were locked up in the west tower, assuring you of his efforts to persuade Satoru to release you and clear your name, demanding your innocence be proved to the empire. He also cautioned that it might be a considerable amount of time before your husband could address your case, given the pressing matter of the Astherean army's invasion on Caelum's borders. In your head, you knew Satoru was having a hard time dealing with the military conflict without your counsel. It was your mind that staged the coup, leading him to his succession 10 years ago. Now, without you, he was faced with difficulty. He did not even have Nanami by his side to guide him through the war. 

You laughed. Good for him. 

On the 7th day, your father wrote again. This time, he informed you that there was a ceasefire between Caelum and Astheryn. Apparently, Caelum was struck by the bubonic plague. Astheryn withdrew its cavalry out of fear of losing their soldiers from the Black Death, while Caleans were left to suffer from the spreading disease. The citizens were going mad, panic was ensuing, and there was food shortage everywhere. No one knew what the cause was nor how to cure it. He said those who had caught the disease would fall to their deaths in a matter of days. 

You laughed again. That is my own doing, father. 

Three days later, another missive arrived from the Grand Duke, informing you of his recent audience with Satoru. Your father let you know that the Emperor still held a lingering wrath towards you, but he confirmed that your trial would be scheduled shortly. The letter also conveyed unsettling rumors of your potential deposition, suggesting that Satoru entertained matrimonial negotiations with Princess Katarina from the Kingdom of Ellesmere.

You laughed even more. A remarriage, just as he wanted. 

On the 14th day, your father did not write. He visited you on the western tower himself, somberly informing you of Suguru’s demise. He revealed that the knight commander had been thrown in the dungeon on the same day you were taken to the west tower, but he was treated more harshly. He was tortured, mentally and physically, until he met a gruesome death. Your father chose to spare you of the details of Suguru’s tragic fate. 

At that, you could not laugh. No, in fact, you cried silently in your cell that night knowing that an innocent man died ruthlessly because of you. 

What a hypocrite you were! 

The burden of introducing the Great Plague to Caelum, resulting in the deaths of countless innocent citizens, rested on your shoulders. Yet, your moral boundary seemed to be drawn at Suguru's demise?

You found yourself engulfed in laughter once more, disregarding the puzzled stares from attendants and guards alike. They may have deemed you mad, yet perhaps, madness was the only sane response to the chaos of this world. Why? What was there to be ashamed of? Life was but a game of strategy, a grand chessboard where the king, though less agile than the queen, would always be the last man standing.

Seated in a corner that night, your laughter mingled with tears, a mix of raw emotions unleashed, as the echo of approaching footsteps reached your ears. The flickering torchlight casted a shadow upon the wall, revealing the silhouette of a tall man escorted by two knights.

“Y/N.” 

When Satoru visited you on the eve of your trial, you never expected him to call your name so tenderly. What you were anticipating was his usual torrent of anger and scorn, and you found yourself bewildered by the odd shift in his demeanor. He then entered your cell and crouched before you, his blue eyes seemed almost softened by sympathy.

“Thy trial is scheduled for to-morrow,” he spoke deliberately, though you avoided meeting his gaze. “I have a proposal for thee.”

You remained silent.

“Even if thou have betrayed me, I will extend mercy unto thee, out of gratitude for aiding mine ascension to the throne.” The irony of his words were a slap to your face, hurting your ears as you listened. “I require thee to step down from thy throne with humility, dispose of the bastard thou carry, and live a modest, solitary life in the countryside. There, an estate awaits thee. I expect thee to live quietly, and await the time I will visit thee. Thou will remain as my mistress, though it will not be officially acknowledged.” 

As the emperor's words were spoken, the empress's laughter erupted with a wild and bitter sound that echoed through the chamber. Your eyes blazed with defiance, lips curled into a scornful sneer.

“Ha ha ha!” 

Satoru’s lips tightened a fraction, his body turning into solid ice as you let out an ear splitting horselaugh. 

“Ha ha ha ha!” 

His eyebrows furrowed in anger. “Empress!” 

“Fool!” you spat, your voice laced with derision. “Thou think to offer me mercy while chaining me to a life of servitude? Thou speak of gratitude while stripping me of dignity and autonomy. Thy offer is but another prison for thee to keep me as a pawn!” Your laughter turned into manic fervor, fueled by rage and disillusionment. “I will not bend to thy will, nor will I accept thy false benevolence.” 

In the end, Satoru was still a hubristic man. An ungrateful, hubristic man. An ungrateful, hubristic, foolish man. 

“Art thou aware of thy current standing?!” He was livid. Oh, he certainly was. 

Yet you? You smiled. You offered him a beautiful, sarcastic smile. “No soul in this empire shall love thee except for me! All are foes to thee, except for me! I alone have loved thee for thee. Ponder upon that, my misguided husband, for in thy quest for dominion, thou hast forsaken the one who loved thee sincerely.” 

⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶♱⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐗𝐈

“We gather today for a matter of great import: the trial of Her Majesty, the Empress, accused of treasonous infidelity.”

As the trial went on, your thoughts drifted back to the day of the maid's trial. Then, she knelt beneath the throne, facing the scrutiny of the court as she protested her innocence and pleaded for mercy. You, once seated upon the now-vacant throne, regarded her with detached interest. The irony of the reversal was not lost on you. It was true that you would pay the price of your wrongdoings, and be rewarded for your kind deeds. In this life, you let your greed get the best of you. You let your love for Satoru blind you. If you were ever to be reborn, you vowed to never again allow yourself to be ensnared by such folly for it led you to nowhere but misery.

How funny is that? These nobles were all here to watch your trial, while a war and plague were happening outside of the castle’s walls. 

“—may our deliberations be guided by the righteous light of truth. Empress Y/N, you appear to be in jest. This trial is a serious matter to thee.” 

You received the courtier’s look of disapproval, while the others were judging your sanity. 

“Let her be,” ordered Satoru, who looked tired and resigned. You could hear his sigh even if he was a couple meters away, and his eyes glowed in sad blues as he stared at you, as if it would be the last time he would ever see your face. 

Perhaps that truly was the case, and you made no effort to fight against it nor did you appeal to prove your innocence. There was no mercy begged for, no forgiveness sought for. It was because you saw no purpose to live this life. He must have sensed your true feelings inside as he watched you from afar, but Satoru still seemed like he was looking for a way to get you out of the situation. Instead of imposing a tyrannous punishment on you, he was clearly attempting to make you innocent. To give you a benefit of the doubt. All of the courtiers and advisors, however, were in complete disagreement. They knew that the emperor held a soft spot for you, but they did not know that his only purpose was to keep using you. 

Honestly? Your mind was growing weary. The trial dragged on endlessly as Satoru struggled to mitigate your punishment. Not until…

“His Majesty, Emperor Satoru, is consulting with an oracle,” you declared, silencing the entire hall with your revelation, ending this ridiculous trial once and for all, “Deep in the dungeon, he hides the old lady. The emperor of this nation is a supporter of heresy, therefore, he is to be subjected to inquisition.” 

Your accusations, indeed, were grave. An eerie and portentous air filled the throne room as Satoru himself was stunned and wide-eyed. Surprise contorted his features after he was exposed. His lips quivered and his jaw muscles tightened, and anger soon smoldered all semblance of composure on his saintly face. 

Caelum was a deeply Catholic nation and the Catholic Church, as an institution, did not endorse or recognize oracles as legitimate sources of divine revelation. Practices associated with oracles, such as divination, fortune-telling, and consulting spirits, as forms of superstition were heretical. These practices were considered as attempts to circumvent the authority of the Church and seek guidance from sources outside of the orthodox Christian belief.

Individuals suspected of engaging in practices associated with oracles, particularly if those practices were perceived as challenging the Church authority or promoting beliefs contrary to Catholic doctrine, could be subject to investigation, trial, and punishment by ecclesiastical authorities, even if they were members of the imperial family. 

Thus, in your revelation, Satoru was now subjected to a much more serious, unforgivable crime than you. Because he would be at war with the Church. 

And not only would he be at war with the Church, but also with Astheryn, and the Great Plague all at once. 

Of course, Satoru intensely denied it and tried to turn things around on you. He was going haywire as your ‘accusation’ caused a commotion amongst the courtiers who whispered and murmured in shock and disbelief. As the emperor, his voice held the greatest authority in that hall, and so he became furious at you, claiming to everyone that you were diverting the situation to seem innocent, denying the existence of an oracle in his castle, and that you were to be publicly executed for the crime of commiting lèse-majesté by slandering the emperor’s name. 

Finally, the tyrant was back. 

You were sick of his sympathetic gazes. 

If your husband knew you by heart, then he would know that your sole intention at declaring his fortnightly consultations with the oracle was because you wanted to anger him, and in turn, get a punishment that would be enough to free yourself from his grasp. That was the perfect approach. 

But of course, Satoru might be slow in that department. All he could see right now was a traitorous wife whose malicious intent was to undermine his authority and topple him from the throne. An enemy. That was what you had become to him.

On the day of your public execution, your father cried. And so did your ladies-in-waiting. The rest were eager to see you beheaded, all with keen eyes as you were ushered at the public square, drawing in a large crowd of nobles and commoners alike. 

Who would have guessed that you held such notoriety?

The words, “witch!”, “traitor!”, and “evil!” were thrown your way as you were guided by two knights towards the center of the scaffold. With a rosary on one hand, and a bible on the other, you looked at your father. He should be safe. You had written him a letter, telling him to bring the family and the servants to a remote island away from Caelum. As for you, your end was near. 

With your head pressed against the block, and the executioner raising his sword, your impending doom was imminent. The imperial sword he carried, you recognized, was Satoru’s personal and favorite sword. 

“Your head will be severed swiftly,” said the headsman, “Any last words?” 

Your eyes found the sky as your lips curled into a sinister smile. “Citizens of Caelum, I will soon meet thy Emperor in hell!” 

⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶♱⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐗𝐈𝐈

A month has passed since your execution. 

Instead of having your decapitated head impaled on spikes atop the city gates, Satoru ordered your corpse be buried at the tomb. The location was not revealed to anyone else. The citizens also did not question his choice. 

The emperor was secretly grieving the loss of his wife. 

Everyone knew. They were all aware that the emperor was mourning over the empress despite your betrayal of him, yet all of them turned a blind-eye on it. They were afraid that the emperor would punish anyone who would remind him of you. 

Was this still not an act of love? 

In fact, no, not everyone knew. Not everyone were aware that one of your lady-in-waiting swore to him in oath that you never had an affair with the knight and that the child you carried was not at all a bastard, but his. It was Satoru’s heir. It was his own child. It was the future Emperor of Caelum.

Because of his misjudgment and his paranoia, he lost the only woman who truly loved him. 

Now the empire was in shambles. Satoru could not deny that your lack of presence in the castle had a much more devastating impact than the plague that wiped half of Caelum’s population. His advisors were of no use when it came to military tactics. Nanami, the most competent of them all, was nowhere to be found. The soldiers have been struck by the Black Death, lowering his total heavy infantry down to a quarter of its nominal full strength. 

The plague had spread rapidly, causing widespread devastation and food shortage, and as the death toll rose and communities were decimated by the plague, desperation set in. There were villages that had more dead people to collect than living beings who survived. It was a state where all were affected no matter what their noble rankings were. 

People tried various remedies and treatments, often turning to religious practices such as prayer and penance in hopes of appeasing divine wrath and stopping the spread of the disease. Plague doctors also swarmed the streets with their dark canvas robes and beaked masks, implementing quarantine and treating infected individuals. 

Satoru secluded himself in his chamber, both day and night, observing the devastation of his empire from the castle's highest vantage point. Desperation ran rampant, driving citizens to seek sanctuary within the palace walls. Initially, the emperor permitted entry only to the highest-ranking nobles. However, as word spread of the palace offering refuge, lower-ranking nobles and commoners clamored for entry, prompting Satoru to order the complete fortification of the castle walls.

The stench of burning bodies permeated the air as the castle became besieged by the diseased, seeking entry but met with the fierce flames intended to ward off infection from the emperor and his staff.

“What say the Kingdom of Ellesmere?” Satoru, who had been suffering from high fever, muscle pain, and skin lesions, was accompanied by a state of paranoia as he spoke to Lord Maximilian. “The marriage negotiations with that… that princess. What says them?” 

“My liege.” He bowed, apologetically. “They no longer wish to proceed. As we are struck by the plague, King Kalleon IV thought it would be of no benefit to be in alliance with a fallen empire. Furthermore, there is something that thou must be aware of, Your Majesty.” 

The emperor looked at his advisor.

“The trade ship that caused the plague to spread throughout Caelum was…” the old man paused, wary of the ruler’s reaction, “It was approved entry by the late Empress Y/N.” 

Ha ha ha ha!

How twisted of you, indeed. Where does he go from here? Satoru was sick, genuinely sick, as he heard the clamor of diseased individuals rioting outside the castle walls. Inside the palace, his own people were also engaged in their own chaos. He was at a point where he was too fatigued to react violently at his wife’s crimes. What did Maximilian want him to do, chastise you? You were already gone, and you have left him with the most profound revenge than any punishment he could ever fathom. 

Satoru found himself consumed by a maelstrom of emotions. He was seeing red from his visions, and seeing black from his discolored skin. Gangrene. Buboes. Chills. All he could do now was laugh at his misery. He grappled with the haunting question of how he arrived at this wretched juncture. What deeds, what choices, led him down this harrowing path of suffering and despair? 

Lord Maximilian did one last attempt at coaxing the emperor. “My liege, the prophecy…” 

The mere mention of the prophecy, however, ignited a primal fury within him. His words filled Satoru with a seething rage and he entertained the notion of silencing Maximilian's voice forever, drawing his sword and executing a swift slash on his advisor’s neck. 

That damned prophecy! 

That, that was what led to all of this! 

In the depths of his suffering, Satoru had experienced the last stretch of the disease entering his body. He was vomiting, crawling on the floor, reaching for the window in hopes of seeing his empire for the last time. But eventually, his weakened body had him submit to his forfeit. 

In a matter of minutes, he would soon find death and earn his place at the ninth circle of hell. 

In a matter of seconds, he would soon be named the most hated emperor in history, just as you like it. 

⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶♱⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

𝐄𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄

In the aftermath of the plague and the cessation of war, the once-mighty Caelum Empire lay in ruin, its rulers, once named the worst rulers in history, overthrown. The remnants of the imperial lineage crumbled under the weight of their tyranny. Rising from the shadows of despair emerged the newly crowned Emperor Yuuta, the only remaining lineal heir of the Gojou lineage, who returned to Caelum from his exile with a fervent commitment to restore and rebuild. Known for his fairness and compassion, Yuuta pledged to rebuild the empire, to heal its wounds, and to usher in an era of lasting peace. With each brick laid and each decree issued, he sought to honor the memory of those who perished and to ensure that the horrors of the past would never be repeated. And so, under Yuuta's steadfast guidance, the Caelum Empire embarked on a journey of restoration, its future brightened by the promise of a new dawn.

LOVESICK GOJO IS JUST 🥹🤌🏻 love him so much 😭😩

𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐋! 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎

. ft. highschool! gojo

. content. fluffity fluff fluff.

. note. he’s such an idiot i love him. tried my best lol.

☆— 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐋! 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 who is known as the cocky boy who also doesn’t know how to hold his tongue, but when he sees you for the first time— his façade comes crumbling down along with the ounces that are known as his communication skills.

☆— 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐋! 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 who thinks he has a chance with you because according to him, he’s very much likable and you must be insane if you were to turn him down.

☆— 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐋! 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 who follows you around school like a sad little puppy that has been abandoned in a dark alley. and you can practically see his tail wagging when you two share small interactions, even though most of them consist of him trying lame pick up lines which results in him almost getting knocked behind the head.

☆— 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐋! 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 who you convince yourself of that you dislike, despite all the times you spend together. either during classes, lunch, hangouts with shoko and suguru or missions you’re both assigned to. he’s like a solar pannel that has been installed, slowly but rapidly sucking the remaining energy out of you as if you’re the sun.

☆— 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐋! 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 who likes to make snarky remarks and tease you, not knowing he’s slightly being ignorant towards you as a person and your feelings. so you try to create the most distance possible, leaving him in desperation for your presence.

☆— 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐋! 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 who embarrassingly begs shoko and suguru to talk to you. he suggests nothing but all ridiculous plans to have you finally come talk to him— and surprisingly it worked. having them to panically call you over and your worried expression quickly turned into one of disappointment. seeing satoru laying on the floor with a hand placed above his heart, whining how bad you’ve hurt him. you can’t deny that you found his dramatics amusing.

☆— 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐋! 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 who you tell about the way you’ve been feeling regards of the way he acted towards you. his eyebrows raise in realization and he stumbles on his endless words of apologies. if you hadn’t stopped him, he basically would’ve bowed down at your feet for mercy.

☆— 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐋! 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 who loves being able to touch you; either a lanky arm thrown around you, knees touching when he insisted on taking the seat next to you on the train or his favorite, hugging you. even though it’s only when you seek comfort, he can’t help but be selfish and enjoy these acts of services once in a while.

☆— 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐋! 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 who is so obvious with his feelings towards you, that it makes you notice the subtle ticklish feeling bubbling in the pit of your stomach whenever you hear a simple thing such as the mention of his name. you’ve tried multiple times to push those feelings down, but they seem to rise higher and higher as time goes by.

☆— 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐋! 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 who has been quiet for a while now, leaving you wondering in concern. you tried to figure it out, but it wasn’t possible when he was avoiding you in all the ways possible. he hasn’t even gossiped with you about the latest celebrity drama, something that formed like a habit between the both of you.

☆— 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐋! 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 who runs up to you— panting and out of breath while he has his hands placed on his knees. between rushed breaths and a few coughs, he manages to tell you why he has been avoiding you and you laugh at the reason. for someone with a big ego, he sure is a coward when it comes to confessing.

☆— 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐋! 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 who fails to hide the excitement in his teary blue eyes when you reciprocate your feelings and deciding to give him a chance. but you soon feel a pinch of regret when he ends up telling his friends and even yaga that the two of you are dating. he hasn’t even taken you out on a date yet. but that’s something for you to worry about later when he returns.

☆— 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐋! 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 who is now the man you’re married to and who hasn’t fully grown out of his idiotic characteristics. but you have come to terms with that fact the moment you decided to give him your all in 2006. trusting his promise back then and till now, when he said that he’d take care of the most precious thing in the world. your heart.

tags ! :: @white-poppie

©𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐀. please refrain from stealing my works !

Jjk kitchen nightmares AU part 9 guys!! Took me ages and failed an exam in the meantime! In any case, enjoy the Hakari centric episode :D

"𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐊"

𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊

—cw: lactation kink, mentions of pregnancy, dirty, nasty, depraved stuff, vaginal sex, period oral mention, monsterfucking in kuna's (sukuna's is way too dirty), dry humping, drinking breast milk obv, not proofread (this is too long and i have an event tomorrow)

—a/n: i have officially lost it. is it obvious i have lost it? idk if this is the best or the worst thing you will ever read but this is very depraved and nasty. like...aaaaaaaaaahh okay i am normal. i put my big titties non existent breast milk into this so please read it all and i hope you enjoy.

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

— satoru is the man who is always up for something new. especially, if it involves pleasing you because he's a good husband and that's good what husbands do. he knows how to pull out the naughty parts out of you, but he had to work his way up.

"I am just saying. It helps. Believe me," your husband was arguing with you.

"Cut it out, Toru. I am not letting you suck my boobs."

"But why?"

"Because it's gross and weird." The moment those words left your mouth, he audibly gasped.

"Did you just call our baby's food gross?" You rolled your eyes. He's always like this. It's not like you weren't curious of his reaction when he does taste you, you were just scared that he'd be disgusted. Plus the post pregnancy hormones are worst as they make you emotional over the silliest things.

"Please, baby? Just this one time. I'll be a good boy I promise." You hate when he addresses himself as if he's an angel. He is a mischievous devil inside. But rather than having him pester you for the rest of the night and ruin your hard earned sleep (since your baby's cries always wakes you up) You thought maybe let him and just get it over with...

"mmph ffhuck." His moans vibrated through your skin, "mhmm god ywo twaste shwo good." The moment he said that, all the insecurity left your body, and heat forming between your legs.

"Ngh—toru..." you felt so embarrassed—so dirty when his eyes locked with you. Your lashes fluttered and you looked away but you swore you could feel him smiling on your nipples. Your husband really digs out the emotions you never thought existed within you.

He was pressing them together, playing like he had just found a new toy. You had never seen so much amusement in those blue eyes as much as of now. Bright pink tongue lolling out to taste the squirting liquid when he squeezed both your breasts together.

"Feels good, right baby? ah!" *slurp* He wiped the dripping milk at the end of his lips with his tongue, and you couldn't process. You felt so wet. And he knew you very well. After all, you've been together for so many years.

"Lay down baby. I'll fuck you while I drink you." You never thought you'd ever hear that sentence but there it was.

𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈

— toji has always been an experienced man. he has definitely tried a lot of things. but there's always areas to expand knowledge and new things to learn. he wouldn't do anything that makes you uncomfortable but he knew the person he was marrying wasn't ordinary. you, deep down, were just very dirty like him.

You had your legs stretched on the sofa, upper body resting on your husband's lap. Since you guys had a baby, it was very rare for you rest. Being a parent is the best thing in the world but it also feels worse than a 9to5 sometimes. Today was a good day though. Your boy was sleeping soundly and you had some quality time to spend with each other. Well, it's hard to go on a date at this time, but you both were just happy to be in each other's presence.

Toji was mindlessly flipping through some channels after he got bored halfway through that one movie he was watching. His emerald eyes fell on your ipad screen where you were scrolling through what seemed like a baby product websites.

"I thought we had bought everything for little gumi." You looked up at him then back to the screen.

"Oh this isn't for gumi bear. This is for me. These are called breast shells."

"What? Show me." He took the ipad from you and carefully observed the product you were supposedly buying. "So what is this a fashion accessory for mommies now?"

"Hehehe," you giggled. "No, baby. My breast oversupplies sometimes and it ruins my dress. They prevent that." You watched him as he sat there in silence, poking his tongue inside his mouth. Within two seconds, he flipped you on the sofa, and gently climbed on you.

"Why are you buying that shitty thing when I am right here?"

"Toji, what do y—OH MY GOD!" he pulled out both your breast pretty quickly, all thanks to your maternity clothes. He knew you won't stop him. He knew you would get wet when he'd do that. And he was right on the money. He started sucking so hard, you felt...foreign. He had sucked them a hundred times before but watching him flick your nipples with his tongue and the milk trailing down, fusing with the tastebuds until it goes transparent and his adam's apple bobs when he gulps it. fuck.

Toji's obvious boner grinds against your heat as he suckled on those pretty tits. The wet patch on your panties were now staining his grey bottoms too.

"Overflowing down there too, mama? Hmph," he chuckled. You were to focused on the feeling of his lips on your nipples that you forgot to see his right hand moving down to cup your heat.

"Ngh—twoji," you mewled.

"Don't worry, baby. I'll take care of you." Thick fingers circled your wet clit, "Ya don't need those shells or whateva when i am right here." He is a great husband. He even saved you so much money that you were gonna spend on those silicones.

𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔

—suguru worships you. it isn't obvious but you can feel his devotion towards you. the way his droopy eyes lights up when they fall on you, or his ears turn red when you kiss him. he loves how you take him in, struggling a little at first because he is girthy and a bit long, but when he bottoms out, you finally exhale and relax your walls around him. holy shit. he loves it. but this time, something different struck his curiosity.

"fuck. you sure we can do this baby?" He asked.

"'s okay, sugu. doc said we had to wait like six weeks and it's been three months." You were so busy in your post pregnancy life that you barely got time for just each other. You hadn't even kissed properly in months. "plus," you reached for his cock, "i need you." Those last words came off as a whine. You needed him and who is he to deny you off your pleasure.

You were on top of him as you positioned his boner to your entrance. He watched as your cunt swallowed him. This time, not struggling as much. Thanks to dilation.

"anh! suguuu~ mhmm missed your cock." You moaned so beautifully, he found himself falling in love over and over again. Yet, something was different. Normally, his eyes would focus down on how you well you take him as you ride it, but today he had found something rather more interesting. Your big tits bumped against his face and he couldn't take his eyes of those nipples. Those glistening nipples. He could see droplets of milk settling and honestly, they looked so fucking tempting. He let his intrusive thoughts win as you felt a warm sensation on your boobs.

"haaa—fuck. sugu, mhmm—no, it's gross" He didn't reply. He didn't need to. Pretending he didn't hear that was just right. Why would you even think anything about you is gross. He would kiss the soil you walked on.

"so fucking sweet. my sweet girl." *sucksucksuck* "these are f'me too, right? these were made f'me. hmm...sweet *suck* fucking *suck* girl.

congratulations. you just unlocked his new kink.

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎

—nanami is a gentke lover. we all know that. he is only mean in bed if you ask him too. that alone needs a lot of convincing because he is scared of hurting you. he is not too kinky but you can't say he's completely vanilla. he enjoys wrapping a tie around wrist as be eats you out. he also found himself getting hard when you called him "daddy." So yeah, he is a little kinky. But not in a million years Nanami Kento would've thought he would get hard watching you wipe the excess milk off your breasts.

"So i just put her down to sleep," you walked out of the baby room, with your left tit out, wiping it with a napkin. "What do you want for lunch—Kento?" He immediately broke the staring contest he was having with your boobs and looked at you.

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"Is everything alright? Is there something on my breasts?"

"Yes—I mean no. of course not." It was rare to hear panic in his voice which only made you mroe curious. You walked closer to him, hsi breath heavier than usual.

"What's wrong, Ken? Talk to me." shit shit shit. you were too close. he could feel your wet boobs rubbing against his cyan blue shirt. If you got any closer, you would loathe him for having a boner for such thing. He was ashamed of himself.

"Why are you looking away, baby? Do you not like me anymore?" Fuck. You're so stupid. Not like you? That man is in love with you so much. He cannot contain himself. You tried to get closer but he tripped on the foot of the couch and felk on it upright, and you on top of him.

oh.

OH.

You could feel it between your legs. You didn't even kiss him and it's not like you were seducing him earlier so you connected the dots pretty quickly on why he was hard.

"hmm hmm" you giggled. "is this what makes you hard you, ken? my lactating tits?"

"don't say it out loud, please." it was so fun seeing him all flustered. you adjusted yourself on top him as you thought of something very dirty.

"wanna taste? i know you're curious." he hesitated a bit, but a man like him can only go so high with his walls before he breaks them and let's his wife take control.

He started off with a few licks, testing his feet into the water. It was sweet with a hint of tanginess. The moment he felt it squirting a lot when he sucked, he fell in love. He acted like a kid who had just discovered magic. You chuckled between your heavy moans as you witnessed him trying to fit in your tits in his mouth as much as he can. You start grinding on him and it only makes him more desperate. He taps your thighs, a cue to pull your dress up and throw it in the floor. You watch as he hungrily latches his lips on your nipples quickly again. Your dress was not even off your arms yet. Nanami had discovered his obsession when he watched you squeeze you tits to squirt your milk on him.

𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀

—sukuna didn't even think it was possible for him to have a child as him being a curse and you being a human but here you were. he was in love with you. maybe his expression for love was different than others, but you felt it. be wasn't an embodiment of rage, but rather an overflowing confidence in his skills. That's where the cockiness came from. Existing for over a 1000 years, he thought he had experienced everything. Well...he was wrong.

"So...you just out this device on your chest and it gathers your milk?"

"Yes. It's called a "breast pump" and not a device," his vocabulary according to the new era was still weak but he was working on it.

When you detached the the vaccum of the breast pump from your boobs, Sukuna's eyes were fixated on them. He loved your tits. He had his fair share of biting and sucking on them till they were sore, but today they looked so plumped and so...succulent??

"What are you staring at? You want to drink it too or what?" You joked as you closed the lid of the bottle.

"Yes." You stared at him. Two minutes of complete shock snd silence.

"What?"

"What? You said if I want to drink it, and I answered."

"Yeah but—"

"Be a good wife, my little human. Good wives obey their husband's wishes." (Please let the feminist in you shut up for a sec and enjoy cuz i know he'd say smtg like this)

"Kuna...I don't know. It's nasty, y'know?"

"I think you're forgetting that I am a monster, baby. I ate you out during your those days of the month. This is less dirty." He yaps a lot someone shit him up before I die from embarrassment.

Sukuna laid you on the bed gently after getting you undressed. For the first time in so.many years, you were feeling shy again in front of him. It was quite an amusing sight to enjoy for him. He summoned a mouth on both his palm and licked your nipples. He wasn't sucking yet, but the hint of sweetness still laced his tastebuds.

"I am going to squeeze your breasts in my mouth now, okay?" Why did he feel the need to announce it? Weren't you already so flustered?

The tongues on his palm licked the skin of your tits before squeezing it when his mouth crashed against your nipples, spraying the milk. Sukuna sometimes forget you're a human. You're delicate unlike. The strong force of the suction made you whine and moan so loudly, it vibrated through the walls of the bedroom.

"mhmm I did not know my beloved wife enjoyed such depraved acts," he smirked when his thighs brushed against your bare pussy. you were dripping wet.

"Don't worry, little one. Let me please you. Hope you have pumped out enough in that bottle of yours. Because, I am going to milk you dry today."

taglist: @aztecbrujeria @sachiyoh @hellkaiserinphoenix @his-saiko @kokonoiscoconut @numbinyourchest @shewritesallnight @valiantmilkshakekoala @oreo-creampie @kutabaka @gojoxxluv @desi-the-blue-eyed-kakushi @chronic-claire-universe @katsukichu @shutyourwhoremouthbecky @mostlyhornyandsad @leelee-66 @stargirlstabber

I WAS SHOCKED, STUNNED, GAGGED BY THIS REVELATION, THIS PLOT TWIST 😩 it was pookie this whole time 🫣 bit sad by gojo ending but the twist was 😳 THIS IS GOING TO MY HOLY GRAIL FICS TF🥹

➶-͙˚ ༘✶ 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁*𝘾𝙆 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏

✧.* CHAPTER 56.5 || The Alternate End

[ { SYPNOSIS } ] ➤ A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt. Sounds easy enough, right?

[ { CHAPTER CONTENT } ] ➤ language, angst, & a tinge of fluff.

[ { A/N } ] ➤ This is also the last chapter. Also, please note that you can't read this ending without the official one as they go together. (Here)

[ { WORD COUNT } ] ➤ 3k

[ { PAIRINGS } ] ➤ jjk men x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. geto x f!reader. toji x f!reader. choso x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader. nanami x f!reader.

[ [ chapters mlist } ]

——ANOTHER TWO MONTHS OF peace is what you experience after the burning of the journal. When you went home that day, you found yourself having this bittersweet emotion in your heart for Gojo.

Sure, you’d miss him in some weird twisted way but, at least you were both happy going your separate ways. Truly happy. Seeing as you went out of your way to ask Geto to keep you updated on Gojo’s mental health every now and then, the man didn’t lie when he told you he was happy because, well, he was.

Geto told you how Gojo walks around like a thousand tons of weight have been lifted off of his shoulders and you were beyond relieved to hear that.

As for you, well, you were ecstatic every day because you had a boyfriend who constantly put your mind at ease and a smile on your face. Just as you surprise him from time to time, he reciprocates with gifts every now and then— oftentimes he would purchase roses for you, always purple and always beautifully arranged for you.

He was the best boyfriend you could’ve ever asked for and you can’t imagine yourself ever wishing for anything or anyone more. Nothing could ruin your peace with Choso Kamo.

Or so you thought…

At the end of the day, why would you have feared anything when all the threats to your relationship were gone? Choso knew you’d slept with Sukuna, he knew you’d seen multiple other guys, and he knew you’d fallen for another man at one point so, how could things have come to… this?

With your back quite literally up against the wall, eyes angled fairly upward at a man who’s just told you such incriminating information you’ll never know what to do with, you’ve never been more scared in your life.

Should you have seen this coming? Was there any way for you to prevent this?

This ruins everything. Everything that was once confusing no longer clouded your mind as the words recently spoken to you hung heavily in the air.

Why now? Why is it that you have to experience this now?

You didn’t need to know this. Maybe Gojo was right all along— perhaps it was better you stay in the dark because you don’t want to face this reality.

This meant so much. Everything was a lie. Or, almost everything was a lie? Too many questions would come to you and it felt like you had so little time to find answers because all the answers were there— the dots were all connecting and everything, unfortunately, made sense.

Damn you Gojo Satoru. He truly is the bane of your existence, the headache you could never get rid of and the heartache you didn’t fucking ask for. 

You were happy. You and Choso were happy but now that can’t continue, can it? Not with the information you just received, no.

That bullshit happy ending you thought you earned had crumbled right before your very eyes— all because of one little conversation and one simple sentence.

Damnit Choso, of all gas stations he could’ve stopped at, it had to be here. Here where you run into someone whom you’d rather walk on legos than speak to…

It could go so bad, so very bad. Because why does he know? Why does he choose to tease you about dating Choso? Shit could get ugly all too quickly, all he’d have to do is walk out the door and approach your boyfriend.

But then again, all of this chaos was unexpected. One should probably start from the beginning.

Well, not the actual beginning, that’ll be received another time. Instead, the beginning of this cursed interaction.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

It was summertime-, the month of June to be specific. You and Choso have been dating for a total of four lovely months.

The moment summer kicked off, you and Choso were with each other twenty-four-seven, a completely inseparable pair.

And it’s with this boyfriend of yours that you planned to go on a little road trip with for roughly a week. It was supposed to be this cute thing that you guys did to start your summer off.

He’d saved up some money and so had you, especially after you’d long since finally gotten that paid internship of yours-, which was heavenly by the way. The pay was better than the average job and all you had to do was be this cute campus therapist.

In all honesty, you got lucky since you knew a decent amount of professors who helped you land this internship. But, all that aside, the plan now was to spend the first week of summer with your boyfriend on the road.

And the start of said trip was wonderful, you two had driven to the next state over so, of course, you weren’t expecting anything to occur the way it did…

He stopped at a gas station to fill up, y’know, nothing unusual. It was hot and you wanted to grab snacks for the road, more than you already had— a decision you’d come to later regret as you truly had more than enough snacks in the car.

But, your greediness got the better of you and you were telling Choso you’d be right back with a small wave to him before skipping your way inside the station.

You had on some shorts and yet another one of Choso’s sweatshirts, a relaxed expression plastered over your features as you entered the store. There were quite a few people inside but you paid no mind to most of them, simply wanting to grab your desired snacks and head back to your boyfriend as soon as possible.

There was some song stuck in your head so you were humming that to yourself as you dipped down one of the isles, the gas station being rather large and the selection of food items being more than you were expecting.

Your eyes lit up as you spotted something yummy and leaned down to grab it, the buzz of your phone making you halt as you redirected your focus to that. Choso had texted you and told you to grab him some chips, to which you liked his message, and went back to your selection.

There was so much to choose from but you had half a mind to just get everything, especially since Choso gave you his card and never really cared how much you spent on it.

He was such a hard worker and you adored him for it. Ever since the whole thing where he realized his competition was rather wealthy Choso has been working like crazy to be able to spoil you as he once said he wished he could.

Hell, around your wrist right now was the bracelet he’d gotten you the day he asked you if he could be your boyfriend— the item turning out to be rather pricey as it's adorned in pretty expensive jewels.

You told the man that money isn’t the way into your heart and that you’d love him even if he didn’t buy a bunch of stuff for you but, he doesn’t really listen and spoils you anyways. However, when you remind him that he needs a certain financial standpoint in order to one day win custody over Yuji, he does relax on his spending.

So, as you stand here wondering what snacks you want, you do come to the conclusion of just swiping up everything you want. 

Happily humming to yourself, you grab item after item before you receive yet another text. Sighing, you shove most of the items under your arm in an awkward hold to check your phone and it’s just another text from your boyfriend. This time he asked you to get him something to drink.

Then, he followed that text by offering his help, to which you told him you got it. Later, you’d grow thankful for such a decision.

Somewhere through your shopping, you swipe up a basket, surprised there even were any as you dump all your items inside. The last few things you needed to grab were the drinks so you headed to the back of the gas station where all the cold stuff was located.

Choso had requested something rather specific but you skimmed over it so, you had to pull your phone back out to see what exactly he said again. With the device in one hand and the basket in the other, your eyes were downward as you walked and a light yelp left your lips when you walked right into someone.

Your forehead bumped into someone’s back and fuck was their physique rock solid. It was okay that you ran into them at first but then, your body went rigid before you even looked up. This scent just flooded your nose, a scent that was accompanied with memories— the sudden thoughts bringing fear to your heart as you looked up. This person’s cologne reminded you of Sukuna…

But, when you laid eyes on black hair, you realized you had nothing to worry about. Sighing in relief, “Sorry,” You hum sweetly.

A chuckle. A sickening familiar chuckle hits your ears and that’s when you bat your eyelashes, recognizing the familiar markings that decorate the lower half of his neck, leading down to other parts of his body you’d once explored.

Oh. It seems your assumption wasn’t wrong at all. This is, in fact, the man you thought it was as he begins to turn to you and frighteningly familiar maroon-shaded eyes snap down to your smaller frame.

Your breathing picked up and you nearly dropped the basket in your hands in pure shock. It was like something out of a fucking movie the way Sukuna stood before you, a terrifyingly attractive smile spreading across his face as he’d recognized you by the sound of your voice before laying eyes on you.

“Well,” He begins, his voice putting you in an immediate daze as you recall so many regretful moments with this man, “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes, sweetheart-,”

“Don’t fucking call me that,”  You spat immediately, sucking in a deep some of air into your lungs and attempting to stand your ground.

Sukuna arches a brow and your eyes shift up slightly to study how he’s dyed his hair black and how it’s grown out a bit more in certain places. Damn the way he’s still painfully attractive, not that you were checking him out of course, but still.

A scoff leaves his lips, the same ones you regret ever placing your own upon, “Oh, she’s feisty now?” He snickers, “To what do I owe the pleasure of you being so upset with me for? Hm?”

Sukuna turns to face you and tips his upper half closer to you, the action making you stumble back a bit.

Narrowing your eyes at him, you scowl, “Don’t act all confused and innocent you abusive piece of shit,” You snap, a mix of disgust and anger vexed onto your once calm expression.

Sukuna seems taken aback by your words, eyebrows raising and shock taking over his expression. Certainly, he hadn’t heard you correctly just now? It takes him a long moment to process what the fuck you just said to him. 

His eye twitches as he gathers all the necessary information in his head, “I see,” Sukuna hums lowly, “So he told you, huh?”

“Obviously,” You huff before moving to step past him, “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have no reason to be speaking with you right now-“

His bulky arm extends outward to his side, blocking you from walking past him and forcing you to come to an abrupt halt in your steps. “I wonder… Did you tell him?” Sukuna questions vaguely.

With an annoyed groan, you turn your head to him, “Tell him what?”

“That you’re a whore who’s fucked his brother,” Sukuna clarifies, voice dropping lower and his words coming off harsher.

Scoffing, you roll your eyes, “Yeah, he knows, I told him.”

You weren’t even surprised Sukuna knew you were dating Choso— hell, by now, nearly everyone knew. After all, despite Choso being rather shy, he’s more well-known than he cares to admit.

“Hah,” Sukuna scoffs, “And he’s still with you?”

“Of course he is,” You reply, tone cold, “Now, if you’re done bothering me with such a meaningless conversation, I’d like to leave.”

“See, that’s the thing, sweetheart,” Sukuna voices out slowly before leaning to your ear, “I’m not done.”

You’re repulsed by his sudden closeness, “What else is there for us to talk about? Okay we had sex one time, that’s in the past and I’m dating your step-brother now, literally what else is there for you to say to me-“

“Y’know, you’re so much more entertaining than I initially thought you’d be,” He claims suddenly, smirking a bit, “If only you’d agreed to be my weekly fuck— life would be sooo fun right now.”

You blink in confusion, “What the hell are you talking about, Sukuna?”

“I mean,” He leans away from you suddenly and lets out that wicked laugh of his, “Don’t get me wrong, the list was fun but it would’ve been so-“

“The what?” You cut off, chills running down your spine in reaction to what he just brought up.

Sukuna cocks a brow and steps past your now still frame, “Did I stutter? I said the list was fun.”

“What list, Sukuna?” You breathe out as he walks behind you, entering the aisle to your left.

“Oh y’know,” He shrugs as he casually reaches for a bag of chips, “The F*ck List,” He quotes. “That’s the name you guys decided on, no?” Sukuna asks all too casually as if he didn’t reveal that he not only knows about the list but also the name you and Gojo had explicitly shared between only each other.

Did Gojo tell Sukuna about it? Why would he do that? What the hell-

Sukuna starts laughing and it makes you flinch because he’s suddenly close to you again, lips near your ear, “Cat got your tongue all of a sudden?” Sukuna taunts.

Sweat has built up along your skin and your heart is pounding as questions flood your brain. Why does Sukuna know about the list? Why is he bringing it up right now? How long has he known about it? Is this a part of the secret Gojo’s been keeping from you?

Was it never just Gojo from the beginning but two people conspiring that sick and twisted game for you? What-

The sound of Sukuna snapping his fingers makes you jump yet again, “Oh don’t get distracted now. What happened to all that anger of yours? All that confidence?”

You gulp, “I… I’m not sure what you’re talking about Sukuna, but-“

“Oh please don’t lie about this, you’ll only make it all the more difficult for yourself,” Sukuna warns suddenly before walking past your still frozen body and heading toward the nearby fridge, “Instead, if you have questions, ask. I’m not Gojo, I’ll actually answer them.”

Heavy breaths leave your lips and you’re almost too frightened to speak, “H-How… W-Why do you-“

“Ahhh, hear that?” Sukuna cuts off, smiling so happily at the tremble in your tone, “That, sweetheart, is the sweet sound of fear.”

You gulp, “Sukuna, how the fuck do you know about the list?”

He tuts and shakes his head, “Now now, if you want answers,” Swiveling back around to approach you, Sukuna walks slowly toward you before leaning his face to yours and backing you up against a nearby wall, “You’ll talk to me nicely, got it?”

Your upper lip twitches in annoyance, “Fuck you.”

“I’m not sure your boyfriend would be too happy hearing you ask me to do such a thing,” Sukuna taunts.

“Answer my damn question, asshole,” You spit out.

He scoffs, “Either you fix your fucking tone with me or you’ll end up right where this all started.”

“What?” You huff out, confused.

“I’m sure the school would love to see their little therapist fucking herself like the desperate whore she is, wouldn’t they?” Sukuna threatens with a tilt of his head.

Is he… Is he referring to the initial video that caused this whole mess? Your eyes widen like crazy and you could feel your hands trembling slightly, “W-What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Let’s not act all innocent now,” Sukuna hums, “You know what I’m talking about but if you want to test me, I can have it sent to everyone you know and love before you even have time to process it.”

A shaky exhale leaves your throat, “O-Okay, fine. What… What do you want from me now, Sukuna?”

“Oh?” He smirks, “I don’t want anything from you now, sweetheart. You’ve completed your task,” Sukuna claims as he stands straight up but steps even closer to you, his body practically pressing against yours, “Although, you did have a question for me, yes?”

Your mind is a mess and you nearly forgot what the hell your question to him was since you have so many. It takes a second or two but you soon recall, “Yeah… How… How do you know about the list?” You ask timidly.

There it is again, that wicked and all-knowing smile. A sinister expression is plastered across Sukuna’s features and he cackles, “How do I know about the list, you ask?”

An arm is raised to the wall, right beside your head as Sukuna leans down so that his face is right in front of yours, his lips practically on yours due to how close he forced himself. You were worried to even breathe too hard, the tight proximity threatening the very fabric of your relationship with how one wrong move could lead to Sukuna’s lips on yours.

“Sweetheart,” Sukuna whispers so softly, so chillingly, “I know about the list because… well…”

His eyes meet your fearful ones and you blink in anticipation. The words that leave his lips have your breath caught in your throat and your heart on edge.

Sukuna simply tilts his head and his breath caresses your lips as he whispers, “I made it.”

mlist || official ending ||

tags;

@blognicole @suguruologist @luqueam @ivoryviness @sinaxalui @rxnnie18 @carlacujo @gods-landing @bitchysouljellyfish @miles4hour @sinaxalui @annananamin @heart-snow @kiyomizzx @hanuh @acehyacinth @mccookiemonster @tojis-ball-sack @cartwheel6869 @mariluvsusstuff @addie1010 @slammynics @actualz0mbie @hisbitchhh @kay-xle @cunttee3 @voids-universe @raininglovelyfire @itsbokutosjuicyass @peaceoutbritta @barbielani @gennaray @r3inae @kfmcykdy @camiihutt @tokina @curtin81937 @hopefullydecent @nameless-shade @ureuphoriasworld @forgetfulmachine @legbouk @lilliaannn @clementineee0-0 @divinelseraph @didibxx

The art I KNEW i NEEDED ❤️‍🔥

This suits them so much—I stand by my belief that sukuna drives like max 🥺🤧

Gojo is so Ferrari-coded 🥹

ok wheres my f1 sukugo fic

🌟

𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐇𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧 | satoru gojō

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 : The start of the spring semester is supposed to be fresh and new, not be cramped up in a closet with your frenemy at a party! And what's worse: you actually like the feeling of his lips on yours!?

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Gojo x fem/afab! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern + college AU - frenemies to lovers - Gojo and reader are at least age 20 - implied that reader is a virgin - first kiss - awakening feelings - virginity loss - kissing/making out in a closet - thigh riding - grinding/humping - sex in shared rooms; college dorms (empty) - breast fondling + sucking + nipple play - fingering (f! receiving) - oral (f! receiving) - orgasm denial- clitoral play (sucking, pinching and swiping) - missionary position - protected sex (psa: wrap it up or get tf up) - pet names (baby, cutie, gorgeous, pretty, princess, sweetie) - cameos: Utahime, Geto, Shoko and Mei Mei - humor bc I'm [not] funny - mention of vaginal pain, spit and tears - not proofread; will do tmrw.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 10.3k (i'm so sick...)

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: yessirrrr let's get this party started, shall we? >:333 plz enjoy the first part of this series!! and tysm for 5.3k !!! y'all are too kind && happy bday to my gal, jazzy!! hope you enjoyed your special day, jazzy jam c:

“GO FUCK YOURSELF, SATORU GOJO!”

“BETTER THAN FUCKING YOU, Y/N L/N!”

“They’re at it again already, huh?”

“Yeah, man, it’s going to two o’clock. Might as well enjoy the show.”

College is hard enough as is. The fact that you’re now back for the spring semester is tiring enough, wanting to get these classes over with and wrap this up. Spring, Easter, and Summer break are just right around the corner, the cherry on top for this exhausting second half of your junior year. Those are the end goals!

But alas, the semester just started. The students scramble around buying their textbooks and switching courses around, struggling to make final move-in decisions and already stressing over seasonal depression at this time of year. Spring semester, huh? Same old, same old.

Although there are negatives that make it nerve-racking, there are still good things that come with this junior year. Finally over with winter break, you’re excited to be back to living with your roommates, Utahime, Mei Mei, and Shoko! They’re your girlfriends for a reason; missing hanging and stressing with them as they made your college experience much better than you expected. 

And it doesn’t end there, either! You missed study sessions at the campus café with your second-year peers, Yu Haibara and Kento Nanami. The two best friends always help with your studies whenever they need it. And, of course, you can’t forget about their roommate and your friend, Geto. The tall, raven-haired Biology major is always looking out for you and paying visits to study with Shoko. There was even a time he helped with a mouse situation in your dorm! Poor Utahime that day – saw the rodent when she came out of the shower.

However, you’re not exactly thrilled to see everyone after coming back. You throwing a middle finger at someone on the opposite side of the pathway should be evidence of such. “Oh, go jump off a cliff, Gojo!”

“Hah! I wouldn’t give you the satisfaction!” Satoru Gojo was the direct roommate of Suguru Geto, best friend of his and Shoko, and was the star player of the campus basketball team. But most of all, he’s the kid you despise with every fiber of your being. “I’d be more entertained with you slipping on some ice.”

“Oh, you wish! I saw you slip on some ice yesterday on your way to Professor Yaga’s class.” You puff your chest with pride when you see the white-haired guy suck his teeth in annoyance. “Made my whole day, what a fucking moron. How about slowing down next time? You were late anyway!” 

Snowy brows furrow with a scoff. “God, you really are a perfect roommate for Utahime; the both of you are so tiny and angry at the world around you for no reason.” 

Utahime, standing beside you during this yelling competition, decides to chip in after that remark. She almost popped a vein, “WHAT THE HELL DID YOU SAY, SATORU!?” 

“You heard me!” He barks a laugh at the two of you, turning around to go on his way. “Heard it’s gonna snow later tonight. Be sure to find a nice, big, puffy jacket and some boots so the storm doesn’t swipe you away, Y/n~.”

“I’ll be sure to shove an icicle up your ass before that, you fucker!” You turn on your heel and stomp your way out of the scene, Utahime following your move. “Hmph! Hate his ass so much…”

“Tch, right there with you.” Your roommate sighs heavily to exude the aggression. “But damn, the way you two go at it is worse than mine.” 

She is not wrong; it’s true – everyone within the campus grounds knows how much you and Gojo can’t stand each other. It’s no secret; at least you two make that apparent everywhere you go. This little feud between you started freshman year with you two in the same first-year engagement program. Tiny disagreements turned into narrowed glares, which then pivoted into prominent arguments, and now here we are. 

You hoped that freshman year would be the last you’d ever see of that snow-haired prude. Unfortunately, you were wrong. The year after, you were unhappy to discover he’s best buds and roomies with Geto. And what’s worse is that you were ill-fated to share a class with him every semester — especially this one with Professor Naga for Contemporary Issues. Is this the universe’s way of punishing you for something? For what!?? 

You’ve been a good kid, doing what you can and getting the grades that brought you merit and accolades. So, you don’t get how this one guy with his stupid round sunglasses is getting under your skin. So fucking annoying…

You hate him. You hate everything about him. From the way he immediately gives you a smug look when you walk into the room and take your seat right in front of him. The way he surprises you from behind because he finds your reactions amusing. The way he relentlessly calls your name to get your attention when you’re obviously ignoring him, even when he doesn’t need you for something. 

It all makes you heated. You hate Satoru Gojo. I hate him so much!

“…hear me?…Y/n?”

You blink, realizing you were too deep in thought for your ears to pick up Utahime calling out for you. “Hmm? What’s up?”

She pulls out the keys to the dorm from her coat. “So? You coming along?”

Huh? “Where are you going?”

“To Haibara’s get-together?”

Oh, hell no! “No, Uta. I think I’ll stay here.”

The dark-haired girl watches you walk past her when she opens the door. “Why?? It’s the first Friday night of the semester; it’s not gonna be a big party or anything. Just close friends.”

“What are we talking about?” Shoko chimes in after leaving the bathroom, brushing her teeth with sleepy eyes. “Haibara’s thing tonight?”

Utahime nods hurriedly at the drowsy nursing student. “I’m trying to convince Y/n to come!”

The brunette shrugs at the comment, following you two to your room. “Well, it’s not like I’m going either.” She snickers when the eldest dark-haired roommate turns to her with a hurt expression. “Sorry. I already have notes I need to get behind on. You can tell the guys I said hi, though.” 

Another sigh leaves Utahime as she puts her bag on her desk. “…Mei Meiiiii,”

“Yesss~?” The fourth roommate calls out from the hallway. 

“Are you going?”

“Mmmm, not sure.” Mei Mei comes to the doorframe, her long silverish-blue hair done in pigtails with a green skin-care mask covering her face. “Got a meeting for my club to head to later. And even then, it might still be a while for me to join, depending on if people are hanging out afterward.” 

Now is when the raven-haired roommate whines to her hands before she turns back to you, sitting on your bed. “Y/n, please, come with me!”

You don’t give in to her cries. “No, think I’ll stay and keep Shoko company.”

But she doesn’t give up. “Please! It’s just a small group of friends and maybe a few classmates Haibara’s familiar with. No biggie!”

“Small group of friends, huh?”

“Yes!”

“You know who else are his friends?” You lift a brow when she does the same. “His roommates: Nanami, Geto, and—“

“Gojo…” Utahime completes your sentence in defeat, understanding why your reluctance is present. 

“Sorry, Uta. Maybe next time.” 

Now, you’re not saying you’ve never been to the guys’ place before; they reside on the other side of campus where senior housing is (Nanami’s pick because he’s an RA). However, it’s the first Friday night of the semester. Meaning it’s the first free weekend for most students. And you’re going to ruin everyone’s fun by being in the same place as Gojo? Yeah, no thanks.

That is until Mei Mei says, “Actually, I heard from a friend that the basketball team are planning on going out somewhere tonight.”

Shoko adds on while taking out her toothbrush to properly speak to her friends. “Yeah, now that you mention it, Gojo told me he probably won’t be at the place in the first place. Something about meeting up with a group for one of his classes.”

All separate reasons from different accounts, yet that only fuels Utahime to beam out of her mini-depression and face you once more. “See? Gojo won’t be there by the time we get there! He’ll be busy with a group project – or whatever – and will hang with his sports buddies. So, you up for it now?” 

Your brows trench down. “I…I don’t know—“

If there’s one thing the oldest roommate is good at, it’s not giving up. And it’s because she bats her pretty brown eyes and gives you the most grandiose pleading puppy face she can. It’s the oldest manipulation tactic in the book, yet it works by making your heart cringe.

Of all things to be dragged into now, it was a party? The semester just started, and you haven’t even touched a single piece of reading yet. Is this a good idea? You can’t really go based on the perspective of your roommates because what’ll happen on the off-chance you do see Gojo? The thought of it is already headache-inducing.

Then again, it’s the first time since last semester that you’ll be able to see the other guys. You didn’t say goodbye to Geto and Haibara before break because they were swarmed with finals, and Nanami was gone the moment he found out all his exams were take-home. You’re not much for parties, to be quite honest. Regardless, it would be nice to catch up on the gang and see how they’re doing before we all revert to non-stress-free college life.

You release a sigh through your nostrils before making your decision begrudgingly. “...Don’t make me regret this.”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

I regret this so fucking much…

Well, this night was going to be quite a drag. Why? Let’s go over the reasons, shall we?

Turns out, the party that was supposedly at Haibara’s dorm? So, it turns out, there was a change of plans, and to be relocated somewhere else — like outside campus grounds. Screw walking, you and Utahime had to go by car with Geto to go to the party, following down the main street into this big, beautiful neighborhood and parking by a big house. Perfect for housing an event for many people to drink, dance, and vibe.

Oh yeah, that was another thing, too; the many that were attending this fucking party. Word got out about the get-together, so, of course, lots of people wanted to come and celebrate the first weekend. So, not only are you outside campus grounds, but now you’re forced to interact with a crowd rather than a small group of people. You practically have been to every corner of the place to disassociate with people you didn’t know. 

So, where are you now? Upstairs in one of the bedrooms, where the bass of the speakers downstairs can be heard. You’re not alone — sitting in a circle with Utahime, Geto, and a couple of other kids who’re present at your university. What’s happening in the room? Just a chill game of truth, drink, or seven minutes in heaven; either you answer truthfully to a question or drink to avoid it, or go to the closet and do what you want with the person who spun the bottle on you.

But, there was nothing chill about the game, and the players would agree to that notion apprehensively. Because you most definitely silently dreading every second of this entire night. Why? How about asking the person across you that you’ve been glaring at since you opened the bedroom door and saw his face?

Apparently, as word got out about the party, the college basketball team heard about it and decided to come and celebrate. Meaning the whole team is at this party. Let’s say that again: the entire basketball team – all the players – are here to enjoy the party.

The person who stood across from you sat criss-cross with long, jean-covered legs, leaning with his hands behind him, a navy blue sweatshirt, and dark round shades that cover his eyes that you know are looking dead at you. And a smug grin that patronizes you to the core.

You peer next to you, giving Utahime the nastiest look you can. And the eldest could only meekly mumble an “I’m sorry…” with twiddled thumbs.

Satoru Gojo looked at you, and you frowned right back at him. The tense atmosphere between you two was enough to suffocate the other players. Some players would try to break the tension by playing the game. But even then, it was still strenuous. One girl rolled the bottle on Geto, to which he picked “truth” and answered her question: “How did you and Gojo meet?”

Even though he didn’t pick the option, he’d take a small swig of his beer. “Satoru and I have been friends since middle school — same with my other bud, Shoko. We’ve been inseparable since, and now we’re here.”

A guy spun the bottle on Utahime and asked, “Were you ever interested in Gojo?” The raven-haired girl sucked her teeth and took a chug, drinking the whole thing in one sig. 

“Hmph! I’d rather drink sweat from Professor Gakunaji’s crusty beard and eyebrows!” She’d admit after a burp.

“Ahaha! That’s a sight I’d like to see,” Gojo would chuckle at her insult, prompting a few around him to laugh. “Bet you’d get more satisfaction from it than being with me anyway.” 

The senior rolls her eyes before opening another bottle. “Fucking bastard…”

Another spin to the bottle after a couple comes out of the closet all close and giggly. This time, it lands on you. Some bubbly girl who had her eyes all up on Gojo, her nipple piercings able to be seen from her crop tee, was the one who spun it. She asks you, “Y/n, could you please tell me why you hate Satoru so much?”

You couldn’t fight the twitch of your eye. Of fucking course. You’re in no mood to drink, and you barely know this girl to think of being in the closet with her. You exhale through your nostrils, “….We’re friends, to an extent.”

“To an extent?” She kept asking more questions with a naive tone.

Oh, drop it, will you? And why are you referring to him by his first name like you know him? “We’re—“

“They mean that we’re kinda friends, kinda not.” Of course, nothing can be to yourself because the white-haired nuisance went ahead and answered your question. “They’re friends with my roomies, and my friends are their roomies. So, I guess that makes us friends by association. At least that’s the only way to see it since we nearly argued our heads off freshman year.”

You scoff with narrowed eyes, “By association, huh.” 

He quirks a brow up. “Mhmm.”

Good God, the more you two throw invisible daggers at each other, the more uncomfortable people feel being in this room. Oh, but don’t worry; the night gets even worse. Three turns later, it was your turn to spin the bottle. And – sit with me here – guess just who it lands on? Bingo! Satoru Gojo.

The hushed gasps that filled the room were telling; it was bound to happen, but no one thought it would happen. The star-crossed haters spun the bottle and landed on each other. And since Gojo doesn’t drink (and he finds the questions rather lackluster), he chooses to closet. The gasps were louder that time, and your blood began to boil.

The first time it happened was uneventful; it’s what you preferred. After the door closed, you told him, “Don’t even think about touching me.” It was just pure silence for the entire seven minutes. You sat on one side of the emptied closet while Gojo was on the other. There were the occasional sniffles of your nose and his loud yawns. But other than that, you two stayed at your respective sides of the closet. Seven minutes of no words, just keeping to yourself and watching the lava lamp in your corner be your light. 

You two survived the first set of seven minutes, not a scratch on either of you, to everyone’s thankful stars. Keywords: first set. Because why wouldn’t there be more? 

When it got to Gojo’s turn, he spun the bottle and got you! So, here you are, walking into the closet again with your notorious opp. You swore to God this had to be the universe’s way of toying with you as if the start of this semester wouldn’t be a handful to deal with already. 

You’re back on your side of the closet, groaning at your hands. It’s okay, Y/n, calm down. You can sit through another seven minutes. You got this! Don’t even act like he’s there…

And so you compose yourself, watching the heated, yellow wax of the purple lava lamp prompt up to the top to cool and sink back down. Six minutes…Five…Four—

“So, let’s say, hypothetically,” your eyelids closed shut for your eyes to roll freely. “I asked for a little something-—“

“I guess I should’ve added no talking, too. Thought that was rather self-explanatory to you.” You shut him down quickly. “And I thought I said don’t even think of touching me.”

“Well, you’re not in control of my brain,” you don’t have to turn your head to know that the fucker is looking at you. “Besides, I did say hypothetically.”

This motherfucker… ”Well, then, I’d, hypothetically, break every single one of your fingers and give them to Mei Mei so she can sell them to all your fangirls.”

“Hah! Nice to know you see me of high value.” He shifts his feet around from their crisscrossed position. “Bet you’d keep one of them.”

You scoff. “Oh, don’t flatter yourself! I’m annoyed just from not looking at you; what the fuck would I need your stupid finger for.” 

“Hmmm, I can think of many, like—“

“Do not finish that sentence, Gojo.” Your tone dialed lower; a warning. He notices it, bringing his hands up defensively. 

“Jeez, lighten up, Y/n.” He says while leaning against the back wall. “With an attitude like that, no other guy or gal in that room will ever want to be in a closet with you.” 

Oh, you don’t say, fuckface! “I barely want to be in this closet with you. Hell, I didn’t even want to be here! I only came for Utahime, assuming it would be a small party…How the hell did you even get here? I thought the basketball team was going out somewhere.“ 

“Awww, you spying on me, Y/n?” Oh, you hate his fucking snicker, shoving a middle finger in his direction. “We were supposed to be at some restaurant joint, but a few of the crew flunked out on us and said they’d go to some ‘big party,’ then everyone wanted to go, and now we’re here. You know I don’t like alcohol, but I just tagged along because Suguru was here. I didn’t know about you, though.” 

You bring your hands to your face to sigh in private. “We gotta stop meeting like this…It’s like I can never escape you.”

“…Is that a bad thing?” 

You open your mouth to refute, but no words leave….Huh?

That was…..odd. Why did he ask that question like that: you couldn’t detect a remnant of childish malice he’d been throwing at you back and forth. Even when you faced him, his face was straight ahead. But when you don’t answer, his left eye goes to his peripheral to look at you.

What the…Is he being genuine right now? 

You gaze at him briefly before turning away, “I….I don’t know.” He hums to your response. “….Do you think so?”

Gojo shrugs. “Can’t say so either.” You hum at him back, and the silence takes over once again.

Okay, now things are even more awkward. You came into this closet with irritation, yet somehow, it vanished into thin air. It was the one thing that’s been constant throughout this evening. Now that it’s gone, you can only replay the moment from a few seconds ago in your head. 

Is it a bad thing? Why would he ask that? Of course, it’s a bad thing! Has he forgotten how much hostility we have for each other? Jesus Christ….Wait, why did he say he didn’t know either? What does that even mean!!??

“You look nice.” 

You—……I’m sorry, what???

The way you snapped your head back to him, you could’ve sworn you heard your neck crack. Holy fuck, why the hell was he looking at you right now? His round glasses shine from the lava lamp, so you can’t see his eyes.

“Wh….What?” It was cold; the weather app said it would snow later tonight. Therefore, the temperatures and winds were unforgiving after sunset. So you took it upon yourself to dress warmly. It was all simple, just a hate, long-sleeved halter blouse that matched your black skirt – it was the only nice thing you had outside of regular leggings. And you covered your legs with black pantyhoses but decorated with cute white knitted leg warmers. 

He repeated in a singing tune. “You look nice.”

When it came to the white-haired guy in this closet with you, there were rare moments where you felt as though you were shocked by him. This was beyond astounding, the comment continuing to ring throughout your ears.

You blinked at him before averting your eyes down to your hands, trying to distract the increase of heat on your cheeks by intertwining your fingers together. “….Thank you, Gojo.”

“Yeah, no problem,” he’d shrug again, chuckling to himself before adding on. “It’s way better than your other outfits. Baggy old sweatshirts, bags under your eyes even if you’re wearing glasses, sweatpants with stains. You look like a homeless librarian.”

Annnnnd just like that, with the drop of your quivering lip, all the warm feelings you felt for a minute evaporated in seconds. The anger returned with the twitch of a brow. “…Tch, gee, thanks. I can’t say the same for you.” 

“Oh, you know you look cute when you’re jealous~.”

You almost busted a nerve. Who the hell are you calling, cute? “As if. From the sound of it, you must be jealous of me; who told you to be looking and criticizing what I wear? Must be rough not being able to wear comfortable clothes all the time, huh?”

“Shut the hell up,” he finally snaps, and you stick your tongue out in victory.

“No, I’ll keep going! I’m sorry, Mr. Perfect, but not everyone wants to put on their best outfits to impress you, not like your fangirls who get their best bras to push up their breasts for you to notice.”

“Huh, you lookin’ at other girls boobies? Wow, Y/n, never took you as a pervert.” He laughs at your look of pure anger. “You are jealous, huh? That I’m talking at other girls and not you? Awww, don’t be so selfish; there’s plenty of me to go around!” 

You snarl at him. “Ugh, you’re so gross! I don’t want anything to deal with you. So all those girls can have you and rip you to shreds for all I care. Let them know how much of a big fucking baby the wonderful, amazing Satoru Gojo is when he drops his ice cream on the floor and cries on Geto’s shoulders. Or that you’re such a lightweight that you accidentally vomited in Nanami’s cup one time, which he threw at you...Or maybe I should tell them.”

His brows furrow, “You wouldn’t dare.”

“I would, and then some.” You smile smugly. “In fact, I’ll go downstairs, grab that red punch, and spill it right on you in front of that girl next to you. I’ll make your hair look like strawberry shaved ice.” 

He leans his cheek against his fist with a huff. “I take it back; you don’t look nice at all. So uncute.”

You gasped with trenched brows. “Excuse me!?”

“You heard me, you’re uncute!” Yup, today was the day: you’re going to choke the hell out of this motherfucker. “I feel bad for any guy who would come into the closet with you, dealing with such a little devil.” 

“You’re one to talk, dickhead! Other than you, I’d much rather be stuck in this closet with anyone else — even Geto!”

“Taah, as if! I bet you never even had your first kiss with such an attitude like that.”

Again, you open your mouth to say something, yet words evade you at that very moment. And Gojo catches it quickly. Because his brows raise, lifting his head back up, eyes scanning your face. 

Oh fuck.

“...”

Don’t.

“….Y/n,”

Don’t say it.

“You never had your first ki—“

He couldn’t finish that sentence, thank God, because the phone alarm from the outside rang. Seven minutes are up — this session is up, so you quickly stood up and opened the closet door. 

With swift feet, you sit back next to Utahime, your eyes downcast to the bottle, avoiding Gojo’s feet coming around and taking his spot across from you.  Your roommate perks at your silence, “You okay, Y/n?”

A nod is offered to her, “Yeah, I’m fine.” No, you weren’t. Your heart was pounding like crazy, your skin dropping in color. And you can feel the eyeballs from across boring into your being. “Let’s just keep playing.”

And so the game carried on from Gojo’s turn. Your eyes could only ever look at the bottle, hoping it would never land on you from there on out. But that would be the easy way out, and – as life is – nothing goes your way when you want it to be.

Because when it gets to your turn, you watch with patient eyes as the glass spins on the cold hardwood floor. One spin goes by, and another swings around. Finally, it stops, the neck of the bottle pointing vertically from you, and your whole figure washes in dread with the hushed sounds of exclamation of the other people in the room. 

Alas, the bottle pointed to Gojo. It was inevitable – you couldn’t avoid his presence since the last session anymore. You look at him, your brows scrunched with mercy. But he points to the closet with his chin, and you follow his lead to the small space with anxiousness at every step. 

Back to your respective stations in the closet. You can only use the mesmerizing wax of the lava lamp as a sort of comfort – a distraction for your nerves that are at an all-time high. 

Why were you so nervous? All he did was ask if you ever had your first kiss taken. Yeah, that’s the problem! Why did he have to know that!? Ughhhh, I should’ve just lied or something…Now what? Will he make fun of me for not having my first kiss taken yet? What is this, middle school!?? The thoughts in your head were a battle to deal with, one personal worry after another.

But all that washes away when the silver-haired guy finally breaks the quiet after a minute. “…Wanna kiss me?”

It felt like your heart dropped at that abrupt question; the warm circulation coursing through your body transitioned to an ice-cold sensation. Your breathing stops, and your eyes shoot wide at the person you’re with. “….Wha….What did you say?”

He doesn’t hesitate at your request. “Wanna kiss?”

Have….Have you lost—“your mind!? Why would you ask me that??” You whisper yelled at him so the people outside don’t hear you.

He shrugs nonchalantly. “Why not?”

Why not?!? “Gojo, you can’t be serious. Just because I never had my first kiss doesn’t mean I need it to happen this instant! Are you that much of a horndog that you’d ask—“

“Let me explain, alright!?” He yells in whispers back with a hand raised to stop your rambling, and you hold your tongue. “Listen, I’m not asking to be a dick, okay? I just thought that…ya know, being in a place of strangers, someone’s bound to be in this closet with you and ask you for a kiss.”

Your face screws to a magnificent expression of confusion you could ever contour. “Wh–Why are you concerned about who I kiss? It’s not like I’d agree or—“

“Yeah, but like, what if they did, huh?” His azure eyes peek from above his sunglasses. The sharpness they carried told you he was serious about this — like he was serious about you. That…That was so off of him. “What if some weirdo forces themself on you and me and Geto can’t help you in time, huh? I can think of two guys in this room who’d probably do that.” 

It takes a few seconds for you to soak in his words, “….So? What are you getting at?” He opens his mouth but stops from saying something, his pointer finger up but back to a fist. You could tell; whatever he was thinking had him in mental turbulence.

He releases a deep sigh before saying, “I’m just…I’m saying, wouldn’t it be better to have your first kiss with someone you know, at least?”

You couldn’t believe he was saying such things to you. “And…you think you’re the one I should….kiss?”

“….I don’t hear a no.” 

You wanted to refute that statement — challenge him or prove him wrong! You looked at his face, examining every feature to find an indication that whatever he was saying was just a way to get under your skin. He loves to poke fun at you, so why wouldn’t he use this as a perfect opportunity?

However, you couldn’t find anything. His eyes were sincere, stationed right back on yours. You saw his Adam’s apple move from a gulp, letting you know that he was a little nervous, too. And your gaze drifted to his mouth, the thought of his lips being on yours staining your brain for the first time. It was scary to think about, your heart racing to no end. 

“Y/n,” he said your name so quietly that you almost missed it. “Do you trust me?”

What an odd question to ask in this awkward atmosphere. Do you trust Satoru Gojo, the boy you would smack with a given chance? He’s undoubtedly the most annoying person you’ve ever bumped into — a thorn in your side since freshman year. He is such a tactless fool, doing and saying whatever he thinks comes to mind, picking on you like you were a child, and not taking you seriously when you wanted him to. You could list many things that you saw wrong with this guy.

Yet, he wasn’t the worst. There hasn’t been an instance where you felt uncomfortable around him, only annoyance. He was friends with Geto and Shoko; that alone should be enough to tell you he’s someone worth depending on. And even when you two would be tasked to do something together: sure, you’d suck your teeth and bicker til the cows come home. But at the end of the day, you still knew how to work with one another and get the job done.

In all things considered, Satoru Gojo was a nuisance. Even so, he was a nuisance you could depend on — to trust. 

Breathing was a hard thing to do, taking in air and exhaling excruciatingly slow. You chew on your bottom lip and give him a curt nod. “I…I trust you, Gojo.”

He lets your answer sink in for a bit before he moves his position, his back to the wall while facing you, legs straight down to the ground. He pats on a thigh, “C’mere.”

Hesitance was there for a split second, but you followed his command and quietly maneuvered your way toward his direction, situating on top of his legs. Of course, you were anxious as hell; your ears and cheeks shared a warmth unbearable to host. Your figure being so close to his, you had to be dreaming. 

But you weren’t. The hands he placed on your waist prove so, earning a gasp to leave you. His voice is low for just the two of you to hear. “Put your hands on my shoulders…Ya scared?” A slow nod is what you give him, and he chuckles lightly. “It’s okay. Try closing your eyes for me. Relax, I’m not gonna do anything dumb.”

He only said that because of that look you gave him. He is going to do something to you — just nothing too rash. 

“Trust me, pretty.”

Pretty? Yes, he just called you pretty. You were used to him calling you dumb names to get you riled up, yet none nearly sweet and fitting the mood like this one. It made your heart skip a beat.

With that, you held back reluctance when closing your eyelids. It made you a little uneasy, unable to see him in front of you, what he was doing, what he looked like while having you on him like this.

Suddenly, you squeak when something softly presses down to your clavicle. It was his lips. 

He snickers, “Ya know, I gotta admit.” He brings his mouth up your neck with kisses, your breath shaking with every peck, and your hands clinging onto his sweatshirt. “It’s kinda nice seeing you be all shy on top of me like this.”

“Go..jo...” you flinch at his soft kiss on your forehead, his hands rubbing your sides.

“Don’t do that. Call me by my first name.” You can feel him bringing a hand to your cheek, caressing your bottom lip gently with his thumb. “I know you know it. I wanna hear it with your voice.”

Holy fuck, this got intense way too fast. He brings his nose close to yours, and you shiver at the contact. It only means he’s mere centimeters away. Thank God your eyes were closed now because you swear you’d turn to stone if you snuck a peek.

“S..Sa…Toru—Mmmph!?“

And there it was, the inexorable. Gojo’s lips fleshed with yours softly, nothing too explicit or unpleasant for you. It was a simple kiss, yet it felt so foreign to you. Your first kiss had been with Satoru Gojo. What a momentous day.

It lasted a few seconds, your body stiff and hands balled to fists nonetheless. He removes from you with a soft noise between your lips, the heat from his face taken with him now that you have space to breathe. You open your eyes for him.

“There ya go,” he says with a small smile, stroking your cheek with his thumb while his forefinger plays with your earlobe. “Was it so bad?”You huffed, shaking your head no. Gojo hums, the hand on your waist gripping your flesh faintly. “….Can I kiss you again?”

Your breath hitched. It was a tiny request. One more wouldn’t hurt, right? You nod, closing your eyes again and awaiting his move.

Gojo leans in and claims your lips again, a soft hum from him when his face is back on yours. The next one was a little more risqué than the last, your bottom lip being taken by his playfully. The third kiss was where the mood dialed to a more wanton plane, him nibbling on your lip to allow him access. It’s here that Gojo can’t contain the reins, removing his glasses, “Come here, cutie.”

And you can’t help yourself either, succumbing to these smooches while wrapping your arms around his neck. Gojo’s no better, snaking his hand to the back of your neck and his other sneaking down to your butt.

You break the kiss to inquire, “Hahhh—…you pervert,” your eyes half-lidded. 

He puffs a laugh, “Whaaat? I thought you’d like me to be touchy.”

You don’t admit anything to him, just slamming your face to his again. You decided to be a little adventurous and lick his lips. Gojo senses the initiative and takes your tongue to suck on. The whimper you let out was too cute, egging him on to suck and tease the muscle more. 

It makes you dwell in the moment more, your limbs no longer stiff, yet your hips subtly move voluntarily. The friction from your groin rubbing on his jean-covered thigh was strangely enticing, your restraint becoming lesser the more you moved. And it gets worse after both Gojo’s hands creep into your skirt and tease your ass with squeezes.

“Ahhh, mmmm, Satoru..” you squeaked. 

“Relax, baby,” there it goes again, another cute pet name to call you. He really knew how to get you going. “Let me take care of you….Mmmm”

He shoves his tongue into your mouth – not too forceful to scare you, but enough to get that he is impatient. You moan to his mouth, a hand grabbing tuffs of his snowy hair. 

His nose is pressed to your cheek like yours, and it’s getting harder to breathe now that things are getting intimate. But it all felt good, and the mood was just right. You rub your chasm onto his leg, which he lifts just a bit to make grazing your groin a little better. And God, the way his hands groped your butt, it turned you on even more. 

Ohh fuck, tongues swirl around each other, your head begins to pound, and your ears ring from the heat on your face.. Oh, God, you could feel a hand come up to the top of your stocking, teasing its way down your skin and to the hem of your underwear. Please, please—

BEEP!! BEEEP!! BEEP!!

Even so, everything freezes in time, and both you and Gojo stop whatever you’re doing. Lips still on lips, your ass on his lap, and his middle and forefinger barely grazing the crack of your ass. It’s here that everything hits you all at once: you are not the only one here — you’re not even in your room! You’re still at the party you were dragged into, in some stranger’s bedroom closet, smooching with your supposed most hated person. 

You immediately withdraw from him, Gojo removing his hands from you to put up defensively. Your hands rush to cover your lips, which are wet from spit. A thousand thoughts run around your head. Holy shit, what the hell was I doing!? Did I really just kiss Gojo? Satoru Gojo!? What was I thinking!!?

And Gojo didn’t say anything, only gauging your reaction to see what goes from here. The light from the lava lamp behind you is sheltered, your silhouette drawn to cover the guy in front of you. 

I need to leave. That’s your final thought, taking an immediate stand and storming out of the closet. Utahime noticed you make a beeline to the door, and the roommate pursues right behind you down the stairs. She moves past drunk dudes to grab your wrist, “Y/n! What’s wrong – are you okay?”

It’s time to lie. “Yeah, I’m okay. Just tired, you know.” You lead her to the broom closet where all the initial guests’ jackets were stored. You grab for yours and put it on, “I think I’m just gonna call an Uber and head back to campus before the snowfall.” 

Her face contorts to an expression of worry. “Are you sure? I’ll come with you; this place bugs any—“

“No, no. You don’t have to worry, Uta.” You place a hand on her shoulder before she can move another step. 

“When you say it like that, I can’t help but worry.”

Your lips twinge to a smile to display faux comfort. “It’s okay, really. You don’t have to ruin your fun for me. Besides, I saw some underclassmen waiting to speak with you all night somewhere down here.”

Utahime doesn’t buy it, and you knew she doesn’t. But thankfully, she doesn’t try to fight with you and gives you the okay. She watches you open the door before leaving, “Make sure you call or text me when you get to our dorm!”

It made you laugh; the girl can be such an older sister. “Don’t worry, Shoko’s still there, remember? Cya later, have fun!”

“Bye, be careful!” A final warning to you before the roommate closes the door for you.

You spoke too soon. Now outside, snow was already falling to the ground, probably a few minutes earlier since it wasn’t sticking to the ground yet. The little cold flakes touching the skin of your face were almost remedial, evening out the warmth of your cheeks.

You use this moment to recuperate from what transpired in that house. It was so out of the ordinary and was completely weirding you out, but not in a terrible way. It was more like odd-ish, strange, downright out of the norm. The more you think about it, visiting back to the senses of your hands in his hair, his slender fingers teasing the flesh of your butt, and the pillowy sensation of his lips glued to yours while whispering sweet things…..

….Nope, the cold was not helping at all. There goes the warmness creeping back on your cheeks and ears. Let me hurry and get the fuck out of here, grabbing for your phone and unlocking it to find the Uber app.

“Y/n!”

But before your thumb could press on the application, you instinctively turned around to see the door was open again. And the person who called out to you had your breath come to a complete stop.

Gojo closed the door behind him, coming down the driveway while hurriedly putting on his grey Chesterfield coat. “Fuuuuuck, it got cold quick!”

“G–Gojo!” You stuttered when out by the time he could make it to you. “What’s up? What are you—“

“I saw you weren’t in the bedroom, and Geto told me you headed downstairs. You could’ve told me you were leaving; that fox with bangs was giving me an earful,” he stuffs his hands in his pockets and then curses. “Fuck, I should’ve checked for my gloves before I left….Anyway, where are you heading off to?” 

You were a little taken aback. “Uhhh, back to the dorms?”

“Great!” He wraps an arm around your shoulders and walks with you down the road. “My car’s over there; let’s hurry before we freeze to death.”

Huh? “Hurry where??”

“Huh? We’re going back to campus, no?”

We!? “Together!?”

“Yeah?”

“Gojo, please!” You promptly removed yourself away from Gojo, standing in front of him. “Why are you doing this? Why are you being all nice now?”

He shrugged “Ehhhh? Are friends not supposed to give friends rides back home?”

“No, not us! We aren’t friends; we’re friends to an extent, remember!?”

“Ahhh, stop being a baby. You act as if you’ve never been in my care before.” You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Yeah, but not when I’m alone with you, dummy! “C’mon, it’s gonna get colder with this snow.”

“Okay, just—Stop!” Your hands go up to prevent them from getting any closer to you. He stops, the fallen flakes camouflaging with his hair. “Gojo….you understand what just happened back there, right?”

He doesn’t say anything, only a single nod. 

“So, you know that my mind is going at like a hundred miles per hour right now.”

“….Yeah.”

“Okay….So, just please…I need a minute.” Your face goes to your feet to divert your thoughts elsewhere because you don’t know if you could handle looking at the white-haired man for a mere second.

Gojo looks at you mumble to yourself, avoiding him. He releases a deep sigh, walking towards you and lifting a side of his coat to shield you two from the windows of the house party. “…You’re doing it again.”

His shoes come to your direct line of sight, your heart pounding even more. “D…Doing what?”

“The thing where you push people out whenever you feel overwhelmed.” You flinch when his finger grazes the back of your palm. “Don’t do that, not right now. I want you to talk with me.”

What is there to talk about? You could’ve said that to throw him off — be avoidant to this whole conversation. But it’s futile after he brings your chin up to face him. 

“Did I make you uncomfortable back there?”

“….No.” 

“Then what’s wrong?”

“I….I don’t know.” Honestly, you did not know. Your mind had too much to go through; so many memories and phrases from moments ago hit you all at once. You’re fighting the urge to tremble — not from the cold, but from overstimulation of brain power and senses.

His eyes are still fixed on you, noting you chewing on your lip. “Come with me.” The sudden revelation quirked your eyebrows up. “Whatever’s going on with you is obviously because of me. So, I’d feel like a dick if I just let you leave because of me. Plus, there’s no way you’re getting an Uber from here. Shit is like $20, I checked.”

“Gojo, I—“ he silences you with a kiss on your forehead. The feel of his lips on your skin again almost made you shut down.

“Sorry,” he whispered while placing his forehead on yours. You never really noticed how tall he was until he did that, your heart skipping again. “I’ll make it up to you. Promise.”

Picture it: you are out in the cold with Gojo, snow falling down silently onto your figures, him bringing his coat up to shield you from the world. If you were naive enough, you’d mistake this as a scene from a fairy tale. And how he was looking at you, too; his sunglasses were back on, but you could make out the blue orbs that lingered on yours. It’s as if he didn’t want to look at anything else. Just you and only you. 

You don’t know where the hell this side of confidence came from, but you lifted your hands to cup his cheeks and bring him in for another kiss. Cold lips instantaneously warm up at each other’s contact, Gojo leaning into your touch more. 

Snow continues to fall and stick, and the music from the house can still be heard from the outside. Yet it doesn’t bother you because it all drowns out in this moment you feel with him. Whatever these feelings you are experiencing are something new — scary, but new. And for some reason, it felt right to have them for him.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

A sheet of white cascades over the university grasses, students’ cars topped with sprinkles of snowflakes, and the lampposts emit a glow that fits the dark, cloudy weather. 

You were back on campus but not in your dorm where you told Utahime you’d be. You did text her when you arrived, so she doesn’t have to worry too much for you. In turn, she texted back that something had come up and is going to another event with Haibara and some other friends. She said she wouldn’t be back until tomorrow morning; it sounds like she’s having a good time. 

The same thing goes for Geto, only that the raven-haired boy called Gojo to say he’d be home in the morning because he was getting “private” with someone he met at the party. “Will be back in the morning. Don’t cause a fire alarm like last time, you dork." 

Haibara is supposedly with your roommate, meaning he won’t be back until the morning, either. The only person left to account for would be Nanami, who is currently away for the weekend because he had to visit home to grab last-minute things from break. 

That leaves only you inside their apartment – in Gojo’s room on top of his bed with your top and bra down on the carpeted floor, along with Gojo’s sweatshirt and jeans. His bed is like any other twin bed for college dorms, a little impossible to move around for two people and limited positions. Nonetheless, to start things off slow, you lie comfortably on his bed with your head to his pillow as he crawls above you and works from above.

Gojo is straddled on top of you, kissing your lips and sucking on your tongue, evoking the prettiest wails he’s ever heard. Your hands find purchase on his shoulders while his are busy roaming your body.

The kiss is broken when you gasp at the contact of his pinkie grazing a nipple on your breast. “Ahhnn, Satoru, don’t touch…Mmmph!”

“Hmmm, what, gorgeous?” He places his lips from your chin down to your neck, sucking on your skin and leaving ticklish nibbles. “Don’t touch what?”

“M–My ni—Ohhoo!” He gives the hardened bud a tweeze, and your cry results from the sudden action. 

He chuckles, “So cute.” Kisses travel down from your collarbone, your breasts, and finally, your other unattended nipple. A whimper leaves your lips at the wet sensation of his tongue swirling around the sensitive nob, and you shriek when he takes it into his mouth. The frequent grazes of his teeth and the tongue pushing your nipple to the roof of his mouth — it all felt surreal.

Yet, it wasn’t as surreal as the next thing he was about to do. Sucking on your tit was the perfect distraction for him to sneak a hand down into your pantyhose, sinking it to the lower regions of your underwear. You gasp at the feeling of a digit pressing on the wet spot of your underwear.

“W–Mmmph…’toru, wait…” you pat him on his shoulder to get his attention, yet he doesn’t lift from your breast yet. “Don’t—Stop, it’s embarrassing—Khhmm!“ Shivers shoot up your spine after Gojo uses his middle and forefinger to go in between your panty-covered folds. Your wetness sticks onto him the more he rubs. 

Gojo lets go of your nipple with one last suck, the cool air chilling the wet bud. “Awww, is my lil’ princess shy?” You could only answer in pants and puffs, his blue eyes surveying your entire body laid out for him. “Heh, shit, you look so good...Hmm? Hey, you got a tear down here.”

“Huh?” You follow his eyes down to your tights, bringing your attention to a worn-down tear where Gojo’s hand is between the material and your underwear. It must’ve been from when I was grinding on him earlier today…

The snow-haired boy removes his hand from inside your tights and uses both to make the tear bigger. Your eyes shot wide, “Wha—What are you doing?”

“Making it easier to see your pussy.” He continues to tear a hole big enough for the damp spot of your pussy to be prevalent. 

Your face dials up in warmth at the vulgar ward. “You could’ve just taken them off, you idiot…”

“Pssh, that’s no fun. Besides,” Gojo uses a thumb to remove the panty barrier to reveal what he’s wanted to see the moment you crawled up on his bed. Your bare cunt, wet substance glistening the pretty folds of your labia. He bites his lip. “I’ve been dying to see this pretty thing you’ve been hiding from me.”

Your hands rush to cover up your vagina, “D-Don’t say such embarrassing things, Gojo!”

“Hey, hey, let me see it,” his hands are used to pull yours aside, your slit throbbing from his gaze without your control. “And what did I say about calling me by my last name?”

It was a force of habit, dummy. “...Just be gentle, okay, Satoru?”

He beams a smile at you, the dimples on his cheek prevalent with his childish manner. “I will, princess! Now, what’s goin’ on here…” 

He ditches his head down to your chasm, giving the inviting genitalia a slow lick up to your clitoris. You bucked your hips in shock, jerking at the sudden intrusion of his tongue situating between your slit. He uses his hands to keep your legs still while he sucks and teases your vagina.

You grab for his hair, “—Khhaa!! Ohhh, ohhfuckkk, Satoru, no—Ohhh!!” Your eyes screw shut, mouth open to let your cries fly out. 

It only pushes Gojo to keep going, his tongue ravaging your folds as if he’s going to lick you clean. And when he sucks on clit? Holy fuck, you could’ve sworn your soul left your body right there and then.

“Satoruuu!! Ohhhshit, ohhhh…Mmmph,” the noises that come from the commotion below of Gojo’s tongue lapping and slurping your essence were so pornographic to the ears as if they’d melt on the spot. “Oh, God, I’m gonna cum, I think I’m gonna…Nnmmph!”

Gojo hears you; that’s why he removes his mouth from your clit before you can experience your orgasm. You throw an unsatisfied whine at him, a shit-eating grin apparent on his face. “Sorry, cutie. But I wanna have a feel for you first.” He straightens his posture and spreads your legs for him. You follow his hands that land at the hem of his boxer briefs, where a tent protrudes until his erection is sprung out with one fell swoop.

The erect limb you gawked at was definitely something you weren’t mentally prepared enough to see. Your eyes take in every single detail you can: from his pink tip, where precum exudes from the urethra down to the underside of his cock, to the long body curved slightly to the left. A whole living a breathing dick — and it’s Gojo’s dick, of all things. It was oddly pretty, you had to admit. 

“Ya ready?” You snap back to reality when Gojo calls out to you as he scoots forward to you after putting the condom on, the cockhead aligning with your labia. You hold your breath at the proximity, “Listen to me, Y/n. Since this is your first time, I need you to take deep breaths and try to relax for me. Think you can do that for me?” You sigh through your nostrils, but you nod. “Heh, good. Now stay still, and let me know if it hurts, okay, princess?”

He lightly pushes his glans to your labia, swirling it around to warm you up before kissing the entrance of your vagina. He begins to propel into you, and you begin to brace yourself for the pain that accompanies his insertion. You grab the pillowcase, your teeth clinging to your bottom lip as tears well up. But you remind yourself to breathe, drawing out as much of an exhale for Gojo to shove the tip in.

And when it does get in, you release the loudest gasp you’ve ever expressed that night! Your body froze stiffly as Gojo plunged more of his length into you; the curve scraping your side caused such an exhilarating spike in your nerves that your walls immediately began clenching around him. 

Oh fuck, It’s coming, I’m gon— “Ahhhh!”

And just like that, your organs that were avoided before came back in seconds., the walls of your slit fluttering on Gojo’s cock like crazy, electric shocks climbing up to your head and pulling you in for a haze.

The sudden contraction of you makes Gojo hiss, “—Fuuuck, you’re gripping me like crazy…! Damn, you feel so fucking good…” He continues to push himself onto you until the base rises your southern lips and grinds his pelvis, which only fuels your screams even more with the overstimulation. “—Khhh! D-Damn…did you cum, baby?”

You can’t even form a proper sentence, your lower half feeling too full to speak, and your figure trembling from the crescendo. 

Your expression has Gojo bend down to laugh. “Never had that happened before. Heh, glad I could make you cum for the first time. Congrats, pretty…” Pillowy lips claim yours again, taking your whines and whimpers as he roughly grinds his hips to you.

Gojo begins moving his hips at a slow pace, letting you adjust to his size and shape. However, the peak has made your entire lower body dial-up in sensitivity, your back arching to him every time your clit is barely touched. Tears have long fallen since he successfully entered inside you.

Jesus, the fucking curve of his shaft was so fucking dangerous! Not only was the feeling of his veins coming to and fro with your inner walls had you twitching, but the way the tip of his cock was scratching and poking every spot that had you humming was so unfair. Especially now, when he changes the rhythm to a faster cadence, you’re bound to come again! 

“Ohooo, ahahhh, Sa-‘toru…! Ughhh, Jesus, it feels so….Hooohhh!!” Your words slurred in between kisses, almost choking on your tongue with the slap of his balls hitting your taint. 

“Yeah, baby…—Ohhh, shit, shit, shiiiit…!” You feel so good to Gojo; he can’t help but slam onto you with all his might. Your nails were causing eclipses on the skin of his shoulders. He didn’t mind; he knew it was because you were feeling good, too. “Hnngh…How’re you feelin’, Y/n? Hmm?”

“—Eeshh!! I–I…don’t know…” Your brain was too mushy to think adequately, too distracted by what was between your legs.

But Gojo wasn’t buying that mess. “Ohoho, I think you do know, sweetie.” The tall silver-haired boy creeps a hand down to your clit to give it a pinch. You scream, your legs wrapping around his hips involuntarily. “How’re you feeling?”

“—Fuuuhucck!! It feels good,” There, you finally said it. “It feels soo good…Hic–pleaseeee, make me feel good, ‘toruuuu!!”

He puts his forehead to yours before kissing it. “God, you’re so fucking, cute…” 

Gojo increases his tempo to an erratic fashion, your wails bouncing off the walls with every plunge of his dick inside you. Your gummy walls clamp onto him while his fingers swipe around your clitoris, and more tears strike down your wet cheeks. 

The familiar tingling sensation from before begins to climb up. Oh, God, it’s happening again. “Ahhooo—OhmyfuckingGooood!! I’m gonna cum again, I’m gonna cummm…! Aiiishh, ahhhhh!!”

And there it goes, your second crescendo hitting you like a wall. Your walls twitch around Gojo’s length again, prompting the man above you to impetuously thrust in a harsh motion, evoking more choked sobs from your puffy lips. And when he dwells into a finish of his own, you can feel his limb pulsate along with your contractions withering away.

The two of you heave and pant close to each other before Gojo slumps his body on your nude figure, allowing him to rest while he pumps his load into your stimulated cunt. The sheets beneath you stick to your sweaty skin, the air of Gojo’s huffs tickling your neck. 

When you feel your body subsided from the excitement, you two turn to each other. Noses touching each other, eyes locked into each other’s stares. 

“….So,” he’s the first to speak in a whisper. “…What does this make us?”

His eyes were so alluring to look at, like looking at the most beautiful azure gems in your adjacency. “…I’ll punch you if you say I’m your girlfriend.”

That has him chuckling in shaky breathes. “Fair enough, but it’d be dumb if we don’t talk after this.”

A curt nod in agreement, “…Is there a thing called frenemies-with-benefits?”

“Pfft, I don’t know, but why not? I wouldn’t mind.” Gojo then decides to get up and finally remove himself from you, slowly taking out his cock with the condom. The bed creaks when he leaves to remove the plastic and wrap it to discard it. “You okay?”

You ponder for a few seconds before coming to an honest answer. “I think so…My pantyhose isn’t fine, though, you fiend.” 

He flashes another smile at you, his dimples taking your heart away. “Yeah, yeah, sorry about that. I’ll get you another pair.”

“You better be.” 

BZZZT!! BZZZT!! BZZZT!!

Before you could get off the bed, a vibration came from Gojo’s dresser top. It was his phone, the caller ID reading as “punk-boy bangy wannabe” 

You blink and give the phone to Gojo after he puts his sweatshirt back on. With raised brows, he says, “It’s Geto?” His thumb presses the green button before bringing the device to his ear while he puts his limp dick back in his boxers. “Yo. Wassup?”

“Okay, good, you picked up. I’m getting in the elevator right now to grab something from the room real quick. Open the door for me, will ya?”

The white-haired roommate couldn’t express his shock in time because Geto ended the call before he could have the chance. He turns to you slowly, and you can tell whatever he’s going to say isn’t good based on that dumb look on his face. “Geto’s coming up…now.”

Panic spiked up as it rightfully should. You were still braless and topless, for Christ’s sake! And wearing torn tights!? Something you did not want Geto to see in the likes of his and Gojo’s room. “W–What should I do?!”

Gojp quickly scans the room for a plan, immediately pointing to a door to his right. “Hide in my closet!” He hurries to grab the door open. “Quick, grab your clothes get in here!”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake…!” You grab for everything in your direct line of sight, making a straight beeline to the closet when you’ve got everything. “Don’t forget my shoes at the front; just quickly hide them somewhere!”

“Okay, okay—“

“I’m serious, Gojo! Do not do anything stupid!”

“I heard you, jeez.” He watches you move around the closet, moving his shoes to one side while trying to hide behind one of his suits. Jesus, you looked real cute even when you were scared. “…Hey.”

You peer up at him, moving his blazer so he could see your complete face. “What?”

“Be careful not to leave your panties here ‘cause I might not give them back.”

The last thing Gojo saw within that second was one of his dress shoes thrown dead at his face. His hands come to his stinging nose and cheek, exclaiming at the pain with a loud groan. “Fucking pervert, quit playing dumb games and get my shoes!”

I take it fucking back. He slams the closet door closed. “So uncute…”

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