#yes your son is the loml!

[andypantsx3]

contents: general bakugou x princess reader; 1.1k, fem reader. lowkey dedicated to the loml @ofmermaidstories even tho there's e2l undertones.

thinking about being a princess forced into a political marriage. your father is ailing and with no sons in his lineage, your country risks dissolution and open war if you do not marry.

already several of the more prominent families are forming factions; those with eligible sons are desperately trying to engineer opportunities for themselves, those without are amassing foot soldiers and weapons.

you cannot stand any of the pompous, greedy, egocentric princelings put forth by the noble families; men who care nothing for the country or its people, men with no thought for policy or justice—men who would gorge themselves on wine and women as the country crumbled at their feet.

even with a husband, there is no guarantee against a coup, not unless your husband is formidable enough to suppress one.

there is only one man you can stomach the thought of assuming the throne, one man with a head for strategy, a sense of duty, and a reputation strong enough to suppress the growing threat of political discord.

you find general bakugou katsuki in his quarters in the small hours of the morning, unable to sleep for your nerves.

"princess," he rasps, opening the door in nothing but his breeches. your face burns as you're confronted with the sight of a man's naked chest, miles of bare skin, golden in the glow of the torch lights.

"general," you say, resolutely raising your eyes to his face. there is no time to dance around the issue. "i need you to marry me."

bakugou's blonde hair is bed-rumpled, his manner sleep-soft, though his gaze is sharp. he watches you for a long moment before answering.

"'s an awful unromantic proposal," he says, an eyebrow raising.

despite his honorability, he's always had a way of grating on your nerves, and he knows it. you can't stop the reflexive scowl that paints your mouth, nor the irritability that seeps into your tone.

"i am being serious," you say, crossing your arms.

bakugou's eyes follow the movement. you are suddenly all too aware that you've marched through the castle halls in nothing but your night rail, too overcome with the thought of what must be done to pay the appropriate attention to your wardrobe.

"what, you lookin' to consummate it now?" he asks, gaze almost burning through the thin cotton of your shift.

your ears go hot. "can you stop being the most obnoxious man on earth for one moment."

bakugou leans an arm against his open door, bicep flexing with the movement. you try valiantly not to notice the way the shadows pool in the divots of his muscle, the way his trousers sit against the plane of his toned stomach.

"if you want me to say yes, you're gonna need to be a little nicer, princess," he says, mouth flicking into an awful little smirk.

"general—bakugou," you hiss. "do you want to watch the country you've spent years defending dissolve into nothing at the hands of these narcissistic, coddled fools?"

"rich words for a princess," bakugou says, his voice nearly a growl in the dim.

you are aware that you are sheltered as a royal. you are aware you are soft and naive. but you are educated, you are strong-willed, and you care. you may not be a son to your father, but you know you know have studied harder than any man on your father's court. you want to do your best for this country.

"do not mock me," you command.

bakugou's scarlet gaze trails over you, hot and liquid in the flickering torchlight.

"no? then what d'you want me to do to you?" he asks.

you fight down the furious flush of humiliation. "i want you," you repeat through gritted teeth, "to marry me."

bakugou's golden eyelashes dip as his gaze slides back over your crossed arms, then lower, all the way down to your bare toes. you feel horribly vulnerable under his scrutiny, even more knowing you are already at his mercy.

"you're serious," he rasps, eyes cutting back to yours.

"unfortunately," you grit out.

that draws another flicker of a smirk out of him. "and y'came running down here at midnight in your little nightdress because you were too scared you'd chicken out, is that it?"

that is absolutely it, and you hate that he knows it.

"will you marry me or not?" you demand, even your nose feeling hot now. "i don't know what my nightdress has to do with the question!"

"your nightdress is gonna have a lot to do with it if i say yes, angel," bakugou says.

you hate him. maybe it's better to just let the country fall to ruin, let some jumped up coalition of families amass power and overwhelm bakugou and his soldiers. with any luck maybe they will stab him.

you'll have to come up with another plan.

"fine," you hiss, turning on your heel. "message received."

but a hot hand closes on your arm before you can take another step, yanking you back to him. you stumble, barely catching yourself before bashing your nose into his chest.

"you know what you're asking for?" bakugou demands, leaning in to look into your face. "you know this wouldn't be easy."

"i know," you say begrudgingly. "but you are the country's best option—my best option. none of the men put forth are acceptable."

"don't like pretty boys, princess?" bakugou asks.

"you're plenty pretty," you bite out before you can think. horror overwhelms you when bakugou's smirk grows wider, a sharp white knife in the dark.

"think i'm pretty huh?" he says, his tone gloating.

"i think that you are awful and maybe i'd rather take my chances with a coup," you growl, trying to pry your arm from his grip.

but bakugou's hold tightens for a moment, and he leans down, close enough that his breath ghosts over the collar of your night rail.

"then if you're sure this is what you want, princess, you can have it," bakugou says. his thumb smoothes over the skin of your arm for just a moment, soft and feather light before he lets you go.

you step out of his reach, skin tingling, face flaming. there's no reason to delay, then. "fine, we're agreed. i'll see you in the morning. we'll announce it then."

you spin on your heel, bakugou's grunt of acceptance following you as turn back down the hall.

"see you in the morning, angel," he drawls, suddenly all agreement.

he may be the general between the two of you, but you know when it's time for a strategic retreat. you ignore his response and flee—your ears burning all the way to your chambers.

#bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugo x you #bakugou katuski x reader #bakugou x you #character: bakugou katsuki

[lydiimae]

Jealousy

A.N: OMG I am finally starting this blog. I am so so excited. This is a Benedict Bridgerton fic ofc. The true loml. I'm still debating if I will write only Bridgerton orrrrrr others? I dunno... but for now, here is a lovely, smutty, cutie, Ben fic hehe <3

Warnings: semi-public sex, fingering, vaginal sex, drinking, dirty talk, heavy praise, talk of public heavy petting ;)

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Minors DNI!! 18+

He sighs from beside Eloise, shifting on the picnic blanket for what has to be the millionth time. "Brother, you worry too much about that woman." She mutters with an amused glint in her eye, taking a bite of one of the strawberry tarts the family maids had made for the occasion.

A family picnic was not a rarity during the social season, especially for the Bridgerton's. What was a rarity is that Benedict had invited a woman along, an incredibly important woman at that. Y/N L/N, a daughter of an influential Viscount. The woman he found himself to be head over heels in love with.

"I am not worried. I am merely observing so our brother does not make a fool of himself in front of her." He replies with a huff, taking a sip from his flask before tucking it back into his pocket.

You were merely speaking with his brother. His happily married older brother. He has no reason to be jealous, really, but something in him still tugs painfully at the sight of you speaking to another man. It is only when Kate comes to steal her husband away that you scootch back over to him, a bright smile on your face.

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You move back over to Benedict and look up at his cute pouty expression, smiling at the warmth that blooms in your chest as a result.

You wished to get to know his family before the inevitable happens. Marriage. You know, as well as he does, that you were both going to tie the knot as soon as it was acceptable to do so. You also know that he would scoop you up and marry you tomorrow if he had his way.

At the very first ball of the season, Lady Danbury insisted that she had someone for you to meet. Someone who enjoyed painting just as much as you did. So, she took your arm and led you away from your father to the Bridgerton family. You were confused, at first, when the already happily married Viscount, Anthony, turned to greet you. And then, as if the sea was parting, he appeared. A crooked grin on his face as he moved to see you. Benedict Bridgerton, although he is a second son, stole your heart as soon as you saw him.

From then on you waited with bated breath for every dance you would share, dreamt of him in your bedroom when you got home, and thought of nothing but him in between. You shared stolen glances at every event and even snuck off to any hidden corner or garden you could find for breathless kisses and entirely impolite words that sent your mind into a whirlwind you could not explain.

Soon enough, he started inviting you on promanades and even sooner he wished for you to dine with his family. Get to know his life outside of the stuffy ballroom, to which you found yourself falling even deeper in love than you could've ever imagined.

"You're pouting, Ben." You hum, taking a sip of your lemonade with an eyebrow raised in curiosity. "Indeed. Perhaps if you were not so caught up with my brother I would not have a reason to pout, hm?" He returns, moving to take another sip from his flask.

He was jealous? Of his married brother? You sigh and move your hand over his, shaking your head slightly. You hand him a glass of lemonade. If he truly is jealous, the last thing he needs is whiskey.

"If you truly wish to hear what we were talking about, I shall tell you." You return as he takes a sip of the lemonade you gave him. He moves his hand over yours, just out of sight of his family. A possessive gesture that makes your heart flutter.

"Yes, in fact, do enlighten me." He grumbles with a sigh. "His wife, Benedict. He was talking about his lovely wife, which if you have forgotten, happens to be my dear friend." You sigh, running your thumb over his knuckles.

He looks over at you, his green eyes sweeping down to your lips, then your chest, before finally looking back up. "I care not of what you were speaking about, I should like you to speak with me when it is I who invited you." He practically growls, the tone of his voice making the place between your legs heat up and dampen instantly. A feeling that only happened with him, something he had explained as both desire and arousal.

"You know that I-" You begin, but are cut off by him pulling you to your feet. The glasses of lemonade are now completely forgotten. "Mother, I should like to promenade with Lady Y/N." He fibs.

What he would really like to do is rip the skirt of your dress open, spread your legs wide, and plunge his cock so deep inside of your soaked cunt that you forget everything else. He wants to paint your insides with his seed right here, in front of the whole ton, so that every man can get a glimpse of who you truly belong to.

"Of course, dear. We shall not keep you." Violet replies with a smile before delving back into conversation with Eloise, who also looks up with a confused expression but quickly rolls her eyes and continues to speak to her mother.

You shoot him a questioning look to which he just raises an eyebrow and offers his arm. You take it and he begins to lead you away from the picnic canopies that many families have set up to dine under.

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"Where are we going?" You question after a moment, realizing that you are not following the path around the lake but rather the path to the carriages.

He stops and tugs you behind a tree, pushing you up against the trunk. The bark bites into the little exposed skin the back of your dress grants you and your cunt flutters when you see his expression.

Desire is different for men, he taught you. You can see it in the way his trousers tighten at the front and in the way his eyes haze over. His hands move to your waist and he bends down, pressing kisses all the way up your neck until he reaches your ear.

"Agree to marry me and I shall show you." He whispers, biting the soft flesh beneath your ear causing you to shiver and whine. He grins and licks over the tender skin, soothing the sting.

"You already know very well that I would say yes to any proposal you give me." You breathe, leaning your head back as your eyes flutter shut. His hand skates over your stomach, running up the smooth fabric of your dress until he meets your breast. He cups one and swipes his thumb over your hardened nipple through the fabric.

He pulls away, swiping the saliva off his bottom lip with his thumb before picking you up. You squeal and he chuckles, paying the driver of his carriage off before tucking you inside. He closes the door and the curtains on the window, darkness enclosing the both of you.

"Benedict." You whisper as he lays you back on the velvety bench. "Hush, my love. I shall not do anything before asking I swear it." The title makes your heart almost burst out of your chest. He dips down once more, pressing his lips to yours briefly.

You pull him back down before he gets very far, chasing one of those open-mouthed kisses he gave you at the last ball. He groans, his tongue swiping over yours. He grins over your lips at the sound that escapes, moving his hands to yours where they rest on his chest before breaking the kiss.

"Ben please." You whine, wanting him to continue so desperately. He only smiles, taking off your gloves. "You must have patience, my sweet girl. I am going to ravish you in due time." He assures, pressing soft kisses from your palm all the way up to your shoulder as he takes off his gloves as well.

He reaches your neck, to which he takes a deep breath. Taking in your scent of lavender and citrus, making him groan as it always does. "Do you remember when I taught you to ride my thigh?" He whispers, running his tongue down to your collarbone, nipping the skin.

The memory makes you flood your underwear. You remember well, how could you not? He had lead you to the garden at one of Lady Danbury's balls and sat you down on his lap on the edge of the fountain. He hiked up your skirt and led your hips back and forth until something inside of you snapped so hard you saw stars and stained his trousers. That is where he taught you about his arousal, about yours.

"Yes." You breathe, your eyes fluttering shut as one of his hands moves under your skirt. His slender fingers skating teasingly up your thigh. "Good girl." He praises. He cups your cunt without warning and you cry out, your hips canting.

"Fuck. You are absolutely drenched." He whispers, relishing in the moans he draws from your body just from keeping a hand over your cunt. "And I told you about sex, do you remember that darling?" He murmurs, watching your eyes flutter.

He slowly pushes your skirt up so he can slide off your panties. He tucks them into his pocket, smiling to himself. "Yesss." You moan as the air hits your bare sex. "You told me it happens when we get married." You whisper between whines as his hand comes back, his fingers curling into your pubic hair.

"Such a good listener. So good for me." He praises, sliding two of his fingers along your drenched slit before finding your clit with expert touch. He rubs a slow circle on your button and you moan loudly, throwing your head back. "Now, when a man has honor he waits to take a woman's innocence. But my honor disappeared when I saw you with my brother," You try and protest but he pinches your clit and you cry out before you can get so much as a whisper out.

"So I will take you now. In this damn carriage." He growls, moving his free hand to your hips to hold you down. You whine when his fingers move down. "Fuck you are perfect," He breathes. "I'm going to slide one of my fingers inside now, darling, alright?" He murmurs, the switch from possessive to sweet sending your mind reeling. So overwhelmed, so mindless Just how he likes you.

You nod tentatively, your heart rate spiking which he picks up on. He shifts so he is over you, and kisses the crown of your head. "I'll go slow, hm? Nice and slow. All you need to do is pat my arm twice and I'll stop." He assures, calming your heart. You nod and nuzzle his neck.

He slowly plunges a long finger into your weeping cunt and you whine at the invasion. "Good girl, fuck you are so tight." You gasp and writhe as he curls his finger, the feeling sending a shock straight to your clit. He slowly adds another finger and you moan loudly, your eyes rolling back.

"Ben... so good. Feels...." You cry out when his fingers curl into a spot that sends waves of pleasure through you. He grins and begins to rock his fingers, drawing heavenly noises from your soaked cunt. The carriage filled with the sound of your moans and the squelching of your pussy.

He licks a stripe up your neck, beginning to suck as he rocks his fingers. You curl a hand in his thick curls and tug, your hips desperately trying to move against the palm of his hand.

He kisses your jaw, and then your chin, before finally capturing your lips. His tongue immediately sliding past your swollen lips and tangling with yours. You moan into his mouth as his thumb presses down on your swollen clit, moving clockwise as he rocks his fingers into your body.

He breaks the kiss and pulls out his fingers, much to your dismay, before unbuttoning his trousers. "Benedict... why did you stop? It felt so very nice..." You whine, grinding on nothing to try and gain some sort of feeling.

He groans at the sight, bending down and pressing a sloppy kiss to your cheek. "My harlot of a fiancee. So needy for something she does not even know the half of." He praises as he slowly frees his cock, the sight along with his filthy words making you gasp.

He pulls back and strokes himself with the help of your delicious wetness, before looking back at your sweet face. All flushed and wide-eyed. He moves his free hand to your chin, running his thumb over your bottom lip.

"It will not fit, Benny." You whisper, suddenly frightened. His eyes soften and he moves down pressing a swift kiss to your lips. "It will, my love. We will go slow, I promise. Remember what I told you, two pats on my arm and we will stop." He hums, peppering your face with kisses which causes you to giggle and calm a bit. "Perhaps one pat for apprehension, hm?" He murmurs with a smile, pulling back. You nod.

"Good girl." He hums. He leans in and runs his length through your soaked folds drawing moans from the both of you. "Fuck. God, I love you." He grunts and you smile, draping your arms over your eyes to cover your blush. "I love you too, Benedict." You whisper back.

He slowly pushes into your body, throwing his head back at how tight your pretty pussy is. You cry out at the invasion, your hands shooting down to grasp at the edges of the carriage bench. The feeling is a strange mix of pain and something different. A tart taste on your tongue paired with a tingly feeling in your already hot womb. "Fucking hell." He groans before tucking his face in the crook of your neck, stopping halfway so you can adjust.

You whine and wrap your arms around his neck after a moment. "P-Please..... more. I need more, Benedict." You gasp after the pain subsides. God, he almost comes right there. He wants you like this all the time, mindless for his cock. Begging him to fuck you.

"Good fucking girl, Y/N." He grunts before bottoming out inside of you. You moan and toss your head back into the seat cushion and he groans at the feeling. "You feel so good, my love. So ripe, so wet. God, so very tight just for me." He praises.

He begins to move slowly, the slap of thighs meeting thighs filling the carriage. The feeling is so foreign but fuck you never want it to stop. Moans and whines slip past your lips before you can even begin to try and stop them, and you cry out as he speeds up. The noises he is drawing from your body would embarrass you if you didn't adore the way he feels inside of you to the point that you can think of nothing else. You wish to be like this as much as you can, full to the brim with his cock.

"Benedict." You moan and he stalls, gritting his teeth. "Never ever stop moaning my name, you vixen. God, I am a lucky man. The luckiest man in the world." He praises you as he begins to slam into you.

You grip his coat so hard you are surprised the velvety fabric hasn't torn. You cry out when his thumb finds your clit, the feeling sending you up to the clouds. "Come for me, my love." He grunts from above you with a slight slap on your thigh. That sends you over, your vision going white as you scream his name.

He thrusts a few more times before pulling out and pumping himself. He releases with a groan onto your stocking-covered thigh before collapsing on top of you.

After a moment he lifts his head to look at you, brushing your fallen hair out of your face. You smile, almost drunkenly, as you look at him. "That was heavenly." You whisper and he smirks, pressing a kiss to your lips.

"Just wait until we are married. I cannot wait to fill you with my seed and see you plump with my child." He murmurs. resting his head back on your shoulder. Your hand absentmindedly finds his hair, running through his messy curls.

"We have to go back." You whisper to which he shakes his head. "Not yet. I paid off the driver. We have as much time to rest as we wish, dearest." He hums, his eyes closed. You grin and close yours as well, slowly dozing off with him.

You are the luckiest woman in the world.

#benedict bridgerton smut #benedict bridgerton #bridgerton #fanfic #benedict bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton x you #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton fic #smut #fem reader #imagine #x reader #benedict bridgerton oneshot #benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton x fem!reader #fic #benedict bridgerton fic

[meiieiri]

water’s edge | 02

₊˚.༄ pairing: crown prince!gojo satoru x f!reader | setting: modern royal au | official playlist

₊˚.༄ summary: in a world where titles define their fates, gojo satoru, the crown prince of japan, and his wife-to-be, face a tempestuous court of deception and schadenfreude. as they waltz on the edge of ruin, can their love endure the treacherous waters that threaten to pull them apart, or will the whims of the enigmatic chrysanthemum throne prove strong enough to drown them both?

₊˚.༄ author’s note: did i really just punch out a 12.9k chapter? 😅 thank you again to the loml @angstbot2000 for beta-reading! sorry for the wait everyone and thank uou for the sweet messages! again, reblogs are highly appreciated.

₊˚.༄ masterlist

Flashback: Shinjuku Opera City (a week after the jubilee gala)

Click. Beep. beep. beep Your wristwatch mimicked a ticking time bomb right now. You breathe once to make sure you were still, for all intents and purposes, alive. The smell of the Sauvignon blanc laid in front of you was so heavenly, its grape-like aroma tempting you to take a sip but you couldn’t, afraid that your body will just reject it in its current state of shock. You must have had a few too many earlier, your commoner palette not exactly used to the refreshing and crisp taste of white wine directly sourced from the rolling hills of Pouilly-Fume, and you must be hallucinating all this in your drunken stupor. Yes, all this was a hallucination, some sick naive dream you conjured after sharing a passing glance with the prince of the nation. It had to be, otherwise, why does it feel that your body has shut down? You were unable to move. Unable to speak. Unable to think.

And you were adamantly sure that you had also been rendered unable to breathe.

“…Huh?” That probably sounded stupid to your unlikely companions, well, normally it isn’t that stupid if you haven’t said that every five minutes or so during this fateful encounter. “This is a mistake. You really want me to-?”

“-Yes,” he said immediately, his mother nodding alongside him. His finger glided across the rim of his scotch glass. He took it neat, of course, the Crown Prince is a man of good taste. “I can ask my people to help you move your belongings to a more dignified residence tomorrow morning.”

The empress frowned at Satoru’s backhanded comment about your way of life. “Satoru, you’re scaring her,” she whispered worriedly to her son.

“If she’s smart, sure,” Satoru hisseed under his breath. If he was going to propose to you and consequently marry you under his parents’ orders, he was going to do it his way. “Look, Ms…?” he trails off, your name escaping him.

“(Y/N),” you provided. “My name is (Y/N).”

He makes a soft ‘tch’ sound which goes unnoticed since you were too preoccupied in shaking away the haze of thoughts in your mind dimming your ability to think. He continues, “As I was saying. Ms. (Y/N),” he puts emphasis on your name, etching the loathsome sound of it into his mind. “I haven’t been completely honest with you.”

What did he mean by that? “Excuse me?”

“I know I said that I was just a fan when I sent you those flowers after your performance tonight but, I guess you could say I’ve become an admirer of yours.”

This was all scripted, and Satoru, despite having had a memory good enough to memorize has a good his entire family tree including the collateral branches before he even graduated from primary school, found the words getting stuck in his throat and he trailed off, his mind was filled to the brim with nothing but the face of the woman he is unwillingly betraying in the name of protecting his status.

But wasn’t this what she wanted when she threw herself at the emperor’s feet that night? She was selflessly allowing him to go through with this despite knowing that every false tender word that he says to you would be a dagger to her heart, that every moment spent with you instead of her would make her cry a river of tears.

It feels as if this entire thing was a circus he had been forced into because his crown was hanging dangerously off the edge of the tightrope above him. Forced to perform, forced to act, forced to smile so that he wouldn’t feel the sting of the whip his father, the ringleader, had in his hand. Wasn’t that something Satoru has always done? How was this any different from all the elaborate ruses he’s been ordered to perform? Gojo involuntarily looks behind his seat, craning his head back, hoping to see the familiar figure of the love of his life standing exactly a meter away from him, just as she’s always faithfully done, but that was all wishful thinking; Himiko had been removed from the duty of accompanying him tonight.

“I don’t think I’m just a fan,” he continues, turning his attention back to you, the words confessing his so-called love being uttered stoically. You stop him right there, the amount of bewilderment in your heart at a fatal maximum. His hand finds his pocket, searching for the godforsaken ring he is about to present to you. “And I—“

“—You’re just curious, Your Royal Highness,” you dismissed his so-called feelings with a shake of your head. “You’ve never been with someone outside your circle, and you’re curious about what it would be like to be involved with a commoner like me.”

When the words leave your lips, a stretch of panic washes over your face. Did you just disrespect the prince and the empress by doubting the sincerity of his words? Or did they disrespect you by treating you like a moron? Were you just supposed to believe that Prince Satoru had feelings for you? Your mind was spinning, and you were feeling a migraine aura beginning to form at your peripheral vision. You had to get out of there. Quickly moving the chair back so that you could stand up, you bow contritely to excuse yourself from the room. “Ms. (Y/N), please wait!” the empress sighs exasperatedly when you leave the private dining room of the high-class restaurant, your heels clicking against the marble floor as you hurriedly see yourself out.

Perhaps, they were being too hasty for you to say “yes”, too secretive about their true intentions. If they were to even have a chance of convincing you to marry Satoru, they have to let you in on the truth. Luckily, despite her age, the empress catches up to you just as you are about to hail a cab which was proving to be difficult since it was now past eleven o’clock and even the busy skyscraper district of Shinjuku was starting to look deserted.

“Ms. (Y/N),” she breathes, stopping just a few feet from you. “Please hear me out. I’m sorry, this was a mistake…”

“It's fine, Your Royal Highness, I know the Crown Prince doesn’t like me the way he says he does. I may not be as highly educated as you but I’m not an idiot.”

The empress looks on sadly. “Well,” she sighs, standing next to you. “I knew you would figure it out sooner or later. Still, I’m really sorry for what happened back there.”

You don’t respond for a long while, contemplating what to say; the air between you is one of awkwardness and something’s gotta give, otherwise, you and the empress would be standing in the middle of the empty street like total fools. You are the first to break, “Your Highness. Why me? And what’s this really about?”

Why on earth were you chosen over so many other women in Tokyo’s most affluent families to become Prince Satoru’s wife? You expected that this so-called dinner would be nothing more than a courtesy call to thank the prince and the empress for visiting the last night of your show. One could only imagine the emotional whiplash you felt when the prince suddenly offered for you to become his wife which was totally unexpected considering you have never spoken a word to one another before. Just what kind of a messed up Shakespearean romantic tragedy did you wind up in? This entire thing felt like a work by some deranged author who’s had one too many to drink while writing this poisoned manuscript of a love story.

“It’s exactly as the prince said,” she says succinctly. “The prince isn’t getting any younger and he’s in need of a wife. That’s what I would have told you if you were one of those shallow high society women I’ve had the displeasure of meeting.” The empress bitterly thinks about one specific girl that is so loathsome and vile that she has forcibly brought Satoru on the brink of total destruction. Last week’s fiasco with the emperor was a warning shot, and knowing her husband, there won’t be a second time.

You frown, not liking it when people are purposefully brought down to compliment another. “I’m sure that’s not true,” you mumbled, not really knowing what to say.

“But it is,” the empress insists. “People who are born with everything have this tendency to think they are above everyone else. Maybe that was what caused the prince to become this way, because his own mother was born from nothing,” she chuckled.

Knowing that the prince was the only son she will ever be blessed with, having had him at the age of forty-one, she overindulged Satoru by giving him everything, and bending to his every will. So, Satoru grew up confident that he’d only have to point at a storefront window and his mother would get it for him, otherwise he’d throw a tantrum. Maybe that’s what’s going on — all the scandals, all the controversies — was this another one of Satoru’s tantrums because they refused to allow him to have a relationship with, much less marry, his chief-of-staff?

“Nothing? I thought Your Highness, well before you married His Majesty, was an heiress to a car company. I don’t think you should lump yourself in with us.” Those who were truly born from nothing, you thought to yourself.

The empress puts a hand over her mouth as her shoulders begin to shake as she giggles. “Is that so?” she laughs, reaching into her coat pocket, in search of something. Finally, she feels the familiar feel of the trinket she keeps with her day and night.

You expected her to pull out something more valuable than a five yen coin, and it looked like it’s an old one, judging by its rough and rust-stained edges. “See this?” She carefully places the coin in her hand as if it were a precious item. “This was the first ever money I ever had to my name at only eighteen years old. I couldn’t bring myself to get rid of it even now,” she smiles wistfully as memories of her youth, albeit a simpler time away from the intrigue of the imperial court. She gently places the memento in your hand.

It was so light, it barely weighed a few grams yet it held so much of the empress’s heart in it, like a personal diary that has kept her company throughout the years, or perhaps it was a compass that led her to the path that resonated with her true self- the girl of only eighteen that had the look of a dreamer in her eyes, or maybe it was an anchor that served to keep her feet firmly planted on the humble ground in spite of her exalted status as the emperor’s consort.

You studied the coin. “Only five yen?” Even you, a musician whose finances are scattered to the wind, could make more than five yen in less than an hour. You were confused. Was this another one of their tricks to get you to say yes? No, it couldn’t be, seeing as how the empress seemed so genuine now, almost like the conversation you were having was like a mother and daughter having a heartfelt chat.

The empress nods. “I was a store clerk at a music shop when I was young. It was the only way I could save up and go to college. Of course, this was all before my father invented that powerhouse of an automobile when he was tinkering around with a few of the customer’s cars in the mechanic shop he ran.”

Listening intently to the empress’s story, a sense of solidarity seemed to grow between you and her. “And this was your first salary? Hard to believe music shops pay so little back then.”

“No, no. That was a tip I received from a customer when I returned her wallet. She left it in the shop and I ran after her. Of course if I were a thief, I would have taken off with it, but it was completely empty.” That caused you to laugh. Who knew that the empress who always carried herself with poise and dignity had such a deadpan sense of humor? “So, she gave me the only coin in the wallet to thank me. A five yen coin. Since then, I’ve kept this with me at all times. Call it an old lady’s sentimental ramblings, but this is what keeps me from letting all this get to my head.”

You nod in understanding. But what did this beautiful story have to do with marrying Satoru? The empress senses the question before you could even form words to ask it.

“What I’m saying is that Satoru was my outlet,” she sulked. “My second chance. So I gave him everything his little heart could ever want. And as a mother I know it was wrong of me to raise him to think he’s above everything and everyone.” She didn’t actively do that, though. Satoru just developed that toxic kind of thinking somewhere down the line. “I’m sure you’ve heard the nasty things they say about my son.”

The atmosphere suddenly turns sullen. You remembered how you watched in horror when Prince Satoru appeared on your TV screen the morning after the jubilee gala. You normally saw the prince attending royal functions such as groundbreaking and ribbon-cutting ceremonies, and while you are aware, just like everyone else in the country, that Satoru had his own share of misfits, you dismissed it as the actions of a rebellious young adult. You never thought for one second that you would see the prince battering a man until he was closer to death than a rat caught in a mousetrap outside of a shady gambling den in an unsavory district in Tokyo.

“I’m pretty sure the press is stretching the truth at times.” That was the right thing to say, you didn’t want to badmouth her son in front of her.

She scoffs humorlessly. “I’m not asking you to defend him. What I’m asking of you is to help him.” She takes your hand in hers. “Ms. (Y/N), this marriage may start out as a publicity stunt, but you could turn into something better than that.”

Maybe you’d fall in love with the prince, and maybe he could open his heart to love another again, someone who was healthier for him than Himiko. While the disbelief in your face was clear, the empress’s words give you a sense of hope but again, being excused from this narrative was what you wanted more than anything. “I think you overestimate my power, Your Highness. What you are asking of me will only end badly, I’m sure of it. It’ll be a disaster for everyone.”

Looks like there was no convincing you. A lot seems to be going on inside the empress’s head and you sympathized with her anxiety, but this was something you couldn’t do. You have been what people call a “pushover” your entire life, but the subject of your marriage is critically non-negotiable.

“I understand,” the empress is now resigned to her son’s fate. It seems, after all that song and dance in front of the emperor, it was all futile in the end. At this rate, this time tomorrow, the son of the empress’s unwilling mistress would probably be declared heir apparent and she would be powerless to stop it.

“I’m sorry, it’s just my mother taught me that marriage is sacred and that I should never mess around with it. You could have asked me for anything, Your Highness, and I would have said ‘yes’ in a heartbeat.”

“Your mother seems like a very wise woman,” the empress smiles softly. “And she’s very lucky to have you as her daughter.”

You stiffened at that. “I…I wouldn’t know if she feels that way, really.”

A wave of confusion crashes over the empress. What did you mean? “Sorry?” she clarifies. You hesitate to let her in on your own pain and you feel a slight prick of guilt poking your heart. She had been so vulnerable tonight, so open with you about her grief while you guarded yours in a titanium safe. She decides not to push the subject further and instead places a hand over yours comfortingly before turning to leave.

A thought occurs in your head and everything seems to slow down. The cars passing by the main avenue of Nishi-Shinjuku seemed to be running at 10 mph instead of the road’s minimum 20 mph. The billboards towering over you have momentarily lagged like some fatal error occurred in the LCD screen.

…This was wrong, you shouldn’t even be thinking of this.

...What would make you any different from a bloodsucking gold-digger?

…Don’t run after her.

She wouldn’t want you to do this. It would kill her if you did this. But haven’t you killed her many times before? What would make this time any different? Absolutely nothing. Your mind is made up.

…

“Your Highness, please wait.”

6:12 AM.

You didn’t know that the smell of flowers could be so vile and revolting.

Sat in the middle of a room with about a hundred bouquets of flowers from a multitude of well-wishers, at six in the morning on the day of your wedding, you gaze up at the huge mural of your new residence in the imperial palace. The pupils of your eyes followed each image on the vast painted ceiling which, compared to your tiny Tokyo apartment, felt like the entire sky altogether. Your eyes follow the image painted by Kanō Eitoku depicting life in the old seat of the imperial system, Kyoto, each blink of your eyes, you hone in on a new aspect of the mural: the mountain of Ryūgatake, the old imperial palace which you were told still existed today, the grasslands surrounding the ancient capital, and the people of Kyoto as they go about their daily lives.

If only those people could speak and were not just plastered images on a lifeless cement canvas to keep you company, maybe you won’t feel as lonely having had to wait for your wedding day to roll by without your husband-to-be by your side.

Sighing, you fall against the carpeted floor, your hands clutching a greeting card from one of your friends who gushed about how you had suddenly become a princess-to-be overnight and how you must be so happy to be engaged to such a handsome man that is prince Satoru Gojo. You hold back your tears, your fingernails digging into the vellum card.

You’ve given up calling the Imperial Household Agency to connect the line to Satoru, they come up with a different ruse each time. “Please, I need to speak to the Crown Prince,” you would sniffle into the line’s speaker desperately.

“His Royal Highness is busy right now in his office.”

“My apologies, Ms. (Y/N), but Prince Satoru is unavailable right now due to [insert name of engagement which is perfectly-timed with the wedding consultations he’s supposed to attend with you here].”

“Prince Satoru is currently away to inaugurate the new building for [insert any imperial charity foundation here].”

But you know all those so-called reasons for his absence were lies, excuses to keep their future consort from overthinking where her distant fiancé could be. Come to think of it, you haven’t seen Himiko around either, that alone should be enough to answer the lingering questions in your head about Satoru’s whereabouts. It wasn’t as if you could suddenly act like some jealous spouse when 1.) You aren’t married yet. 2.) You are the trespasser in their relationship. 3.) You are simply a bandage solution to clean up the prince’s image, someone who had unknowingly been at the right place at the right time. You are well aware of where you stand in the grand scheme of things; that kiss as you drove out of the palace compound that day should have been a good enough reminder that you will never truly be your future husband’s better half.

That title, the one you unwittingly stole from a woman you’ve never even met before, is something you can never truly call your own. You were no different than the typical other woman who would wear the legal wife’s wedding dress like some thief.

Yet how is it that you know all of these things like scripture but you still spent the entire night crying over a man who finds it physically impossible to be in the same room as you? Why did it hurt so much when you saw your fiancé shield his girlfriend from the autumn chill the same way you hoped he would shield you from the many challenging questions during that press conference? Why does it feel like a dagger had been plunged into your chest when you saw Himiko kiss Satoru so tenderly, and your husband-to-be returning the gesture with equal fervor?

You lay on your side, the velvet texture of the carpet somehow providing you some semblance of comfort. What would your retainers say when they come into this room and see the crumpled form of their future empress on the floor, her knees hugged to her chest as she tries to make sense of everything that has happened these past few days? You imagined that they’d probably think you were crazy, and Satoru would probably jeer at the thought of having a simpleton as a wife.

You were only a girl of twenty-three summers, you should be enjoying your twenties by doing the things that you love with the people you love. These sunny days of youth pass by in the blink of an eye, but in your case, you have been totally robbed of it, now being primed to become not just a princess but a wife too. While the former is certainly an intimidating role, the latter is just downright petrifying for someone as young as yourself.

Not a single soul save for the empress went to check up on you last night, the only people you were expecting to keep you company today are the hairdressers and makeup artists to prepare you for the wedding. Of course, the austere members of the Imperial Household Agency are also set to make an appearance in your chambers today probably to make you sit through another briefing session on court etiquette. You glance out the window, it was barely light out due to the winter equinox when nights are longer than daytime, and somehow that made you even more sad than you already were laying down on the floor of your room, desolately alone.

A knock at the door awakens you from your trance and you sit up, arranging your hair neatly and pulling on your shoes. Sighing, you make your way towards the door and see someone who you do not quite expect. He momentarily shifts his attenton to the battalion of attendants behind him, nodding to them. “Leave us alone.”

“Your Majesty, good morning,” your breath hitches in your throat as you hastily bow your head before the emperor who seemed to be more anxious about this day more than you, seeing as he is already dressed in his three piece suit and slacks ensemble with the Collar of the Supreme Order of the Chrysanthemum hanging between his lapels.

The emperor was an enigmatic figure who mostly kept to himself, his chamberlain and main staff often joking amongst themselves how the emperor was really a recluse who had only been born to become the sovereign ruler of a nation by an unfortunate stroke of fate. Your future father-in-law hums in acknowledgement and you are left to wonder if this is where Satoru gets his aloof nature from. “Good morning, (Y/N). May I come in?” he asks as if this entire compound wasn’t his.

“Of course, Your Majesty.”

He eyes the many bouquets in the room, sighing heavily as he does, the guilt of putting you in this impossible position weighing on him. He admits that he jumped the gun when the empress offered to have Satoru marry someone who could brighten up his public image from the many blemishes it incurred during the night of the jubilee when he and Himiko were seen together, causing trouble in the casinos of the infamous Kabukichō red light district.. To have you bear the weight of becoming a lamb to the slaughter with this marriage was just downright cruel, knowing that his son will certainly make it his life’s purpose to destroy you, but what choice did he have?

It is the crown that makes the choice for him, he’s been told by his own father.

“Listen, do you have the slightest idea of what you’re about to go through?” the man whom you would call your father-in-law in just a few hours asks flatly.

Of course you do, Satoru has already given you a taste of what your marriage is going to be like. You solemnly nod “I think so,” murmuring softly, crestfallenness is evident in your voice. “Satoru has made it clear.”

The emperor purses his lips as he fumbles with a tulip that had been nestled in one of the bouquets in your chambers, “Well, it’s good that you know. I know my son and I am not here to tell you that everything you’ve seen these past couple of days will get better,” he eyes the telephone, one you haven’t even placed the phone back onto the handset in hopes that Satoru would call you. “In fact, it’s only going to get worse from here.”

You frown, crestfallen. “How so?” you asked, your hand gripping the fabric of your dress. “Are you saying that this is just the beginning?” Truthfully, you were fine with this being the beginning, only if you could have the reassurance that all this will come to an eventual end. But it seems now that this was going to be life as you know it, with a husband who gags at the sight of you and has the innate ability to treat you like you were his personal bedwarmer and doormat.

“Yes,” the emperor says gravely, a dark look crossing his features. “So if you’d like to back out now, now is your only chance. Satoru has made enough messes, a canceled wedding will barely do anything to his reputation at this point.”

He’s right; these past days have only proved that Satoru is probably granting you a way out, maybe that’s why he has done nothing else but to ignore you as a final act of mercy if you ever decide to bail. One tiny kiss on the cheek is nothing when he starts to go missing in the middle of the night to attend to his mistress’s beck and call, when he starts to bring home his mistress for dinner to actively spite you with their relationship, or when he, god forbid, starts fucking in her in your marital bed while you’re away on some royal function.

You could live a full life without him, having barely even known him save for his proclivity to emotionally torment you, but it feels wrong to just…up and leave after all that song and dance in the press opportunity.l Shaking your head, the emperor’s offer is refused insistently.

“I’m not going to give up on him, I won’t give up on our marriage before it even begins,” your eyes bore into the emperor’s own. You’ve promised yourself and the empress that you’ll see this through, if Satoru is going to make your life a living hell, then, you’ll just have to take all his blows like a champ.

“I don’t doubt your willpower, (Y/N). I’m just saying that this might be even more difficult for you than you think,” the emperor warns. “Satoru doesn’t just push back, he’ll run over people who get in his way.”

“Your Majesty, it’e alright. I’ll manage somehow.” you mumbled. “The empress and I made an agreement that if I marry Satoru, I…” you trail off, not really wanting to reveal more than you should, the emperor waits for you to continue, his eyebrows furrowed together.

What would you get if you married Satoru if not unnecessary suffering? And even then, that didn’t sound like a good deal, the emperor thinks to himself. You could have gone on happily with your life, blissfully unaware of the trials of being married to the white-haired prince, you probably would have continued climbing the career ladder before finding someone to settle down with, maybe you’ll have a few kids along the way, and Satoru would also be blissfully unaware of a certain (Y/N) (L/N) existing on this plane of reality with him.

Why were you so committed to marrying him?

“I’d be able to…” you stutter. There was no use hiding it now but maybe you could conceal the truth a little longer, if not for your sake, but for the empress — no, a grieving mother — who met you in a hotel café that night with the weight of the world on her shoulders and asked you to keep the details of this transactional union a secret. “I would…”

The emperor raises a hand to stop you, though he is mildly perturbed at your hesitance to open up to him, he decides that whatever you and his wife were keeping from him does not concern him or the throne and that it is simply a thing that should be left unsaid. He really didn’t want to pry into the details of the contract you agreed to, and since you seem to have already made up your mind, all he could do now is hope that you do not give up so easily on his son the same way he did, and that this choice to marry Satoru would not backfire on you or the imperial system in the long run.

“Stop. I understand,” the emperor nods, his shoulders seemingly slumping in defeat as he is unable to convince you to cut it and run from the horrible fate you were speeding towards at a hundred miles an hour. Maybe Satoru was right to make you out to be an idiot, the emperor frowns. “But…don’t say I didn’t warn you, and from the bottom of my heart, I wish you all the best.”

And just like that, the wedding pushes through as scheduled, having declared before the father of the groom that you weren’t one to give up so easily, or…maybe it’s just your blind optimism talking.

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” you settle into an ornate curtsy, your foot gracefully tucked behind the other, your hand postured in a cordial handshake with His Majesty. The emperor’s pupils dilate, his mouth runs dry and he feels like something in his body had momentarily stopped working or had broken entirely — he knows that trademark act of obeisance so well — you’ve perfectly captured the image of a younger version of his wife who had perfected royal protocol in just under a year when they got married. She must have sought to teach you everything she knew or rather she was forced to learn by herself when she was in your position in an act of true esprit de corps. And for a moment, he finds himself surrendering to your doe-eyed but unmistakably poised charm, and he starts to become more convinced that you were a worthy future daughter-in-law.

He shakes his head, swiftly snapping him out of his trance, now was not the time for these things. The emperor nods back to return the gesture before turning to leave, just as your attendants are about to arrive to get you ready for the ceremony. “We’ll see you in the cathedral, then, (Y/N).”

But as soon as he is halfway out the door, he turns back to look at you one last time as (Y/N) (L/N), for the next time he will see you, you will then be (Y/N) Gojo, his first daughter-in-law, the first royal bride in centuries who neither hails from a family of politicians nor influential persons alike, the icon of a new chapter for the imperial family.

He sighs, turning back around to face you, having almost forgotten the task he’d been entrusted with by his wife. “I almost forgot. Ijichi,” he calls to his faithful grand steward who is waiting outside your chambers to bring forth a rather special gift he and the empress intended to present to you after the ceremony but he figured now might be a good time. The tall, lanky and sickly-looking spectacled man known as Ijichi bows before you which leaves a strange feeling festering within you, he was carrying a navy blue felt case that seemed so valuable that he had been compelled to wear gloves to prevent his bare hands from touching the fine fabric.

The emperor motions to open the case and your face pales when you see what is inside. “This is intended to be worn by the Princess Royal on her wedding day but since I don’t have a daughter to give that title to, the title will now belong to you.”

The tiara in his hands is a hefty thing, molded entirely from the most of valuable of silvers, it resembled the Queen Mary Fringe Tiara that had been worn by Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II on her wedding day, with an abundance of baton diamonds dotting every conceivable nook and cranny. It takes some time for you to adjust when it is placed upon your head, it only weighed a modest 1.7 kilograms, it was much lighter than the many tiaras the family keeps hidden away in the imperial vaults but for someone like you, it is an awfully heavy thing not just in the literal sense but also in the figurative side of things.

As of this moment, you weren’t just an ordinarily forgettable face in a crowd anymore.

“Carry the weight.” The emperor’s voice is commandeering. He steps back, scanning how the tiara looks on you from afar and though it looked awkwardly placed on your head with how you are struggling to balance its weight, you still managed to carry it adequately. “Now…you’re one of us.”

8:55 AM.

“Need some help?”

Satoru looks up to inspect the reflection on the mirror and a sad smile crosses his face when he sees the familiar figure of Himiko leaning against the doorframe, her arms crossed over her chest as she gazes at her beloved getting ready for his wedding day. “You don’t have to be here.” He begrudgingly fumbles with his collar, unable to meet her eyes. “I don’t want you to get hurt,” he professes, despite having immeasurably hurt you these past couple of days instead.

Himiko shakes her head. There was no use in grumbling about it now when just on the other side of the palace, Satoru’s unworthy bride-to-be was being pampered by her many ladies with manicures, foot massages, and practically anything to make you happy while she, the prince’s true love, was condemned to watch him be cruelly given away to someone else. There was a sense of finality with how hundreds of palace staff rushed through the hallways carrying all sorts of wedding paraphernalia to decorate the Chowaden reception hall and the courtyard to welcome the wedding guests.

Satoru frowns when her hands find his collar, she skillfully untangles the ribbon medal and readjusts the silver emerald-studded necklace that came with it.

Please…just one more minute…one more minute with you, Satoru closes his eyes as Himiko’s thumbs tentatively rub his chiseled cheek as if she were memorizing every bump and every curve of his skin before someone else tries to claim that they know every bit of Satoru inside and out. She knows it will never be true, no one can ever know Satoru the way she intimately knows him, not even if he was going to marry another woman. It may be possible for you steal everything from her — the emperor and empress’s favor, the public’s warm approval, the ring that had been fitted to accommodate the size of her finger before it was given to you — it may have been easy for you to pull the rug from underneath her, but it would be difficult — no, impossible — for you to ever claim ownership of Satoru.

He was hers and she was his, Satoru leans against Himiko’s touch, sighing woefully. “I’ll make her pay, I promise. I’ll break her, destroy her again. And again. And again until nothing’s left of her,” he recites the promise, punctuating the words with a kiss every time, as if they were having an illicit wedding of their own, and his words were a marriage vow — the only one that he will honor with every fiber of his being. Himiko bites her lower lip before she slowly nods, appeased.

“But Satoru, marrying her is the only way for you to be restored as heir apparent. Either way, we can’t win without doing this your father’s way.” Her hands leave his collar and she sadly gazes out the window, her narrow eyes glazing over the ancient ginkgo tree at the center of the palace’s vast atrium which was now shedding their green leaves to take on the tell-tale yellow hue as autumn draws near. She always loved the view of the palace courtyard from above, especially in this room where she and Satoru spent many nights proving their love for one another.

Gojo frowns at her melancholia, he comes up from behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. “I’ll think of something, I promise this won’t last longer than it needs to,” he kisses her cheek, nuzzling it with his nose tenderly.

“I don’t mind waiting, Satoru, I’d wait for you forever, and as much as we both hate her, we need (Y/N),” she spits out your name as if it were rat poison in her mouth. “So, let’s just play along. It’s not like we’re not used to meeting in deserted parking lots at midnight, right?” She offers him a half-smile, reminding Satoru that their entire affair has always been illicit in nature.

It’s not like she was accepted by his parents to be their son’s future consort. They’ve been through this before, hundreds of times rather, even before you came along. They’ve had to deal with so many forces ripping them apart over the past three years from the oh-so-omnipotent emperor who hardly wields any political power to his neurotic wife whom she has called, on several occasions, a bitch.

And yet, together they remained as it has always been, with Satoru cradling Himiko in his arms as he peppers kisses up her neck, sucking at the soft flesh, his hips flush against hers. He does this in front of the window for any unfortunate passerby to see. Hell, Satoru was hoping you’d walk by and see this heartbreaking display and maybe you’ll just run home in your wedding dress with your tail between your legs.

“We don’t have to get used to it, Himiko,” he mumbles into her neck, inhaling her sweet perfume, the one he liked the most. “One day, we won’t have to hide anymore,” he kisses her cheek tenderly, caressing the bone of her wrists which still bore faint marks from the handcuffs that had been wrongfully placed on her with his thumb. “And people can say whatever they want about us, and it wouldn’t matter because I will have been the emperor by then and you, my empress.” He presses their foreheads together, the tips of their noses barely touching in a moment of silence.

After a long while, Satoru lets go of Himiko, his eyes scanning hers as if he were searching for answers hidden deep within her soul. “What is it?”

“I just wish you hadn’t stepped in back there.” It was a thought that kept him awake these past agonizing nights. “Maybe if you just stayed out of my father’s office, this wouldn’t have happened. I was alright with you visiting me in my jail cell, you know.”

“As if I’d ever let that happen,” she sighs when he pulls away to fasten his cufflinks, suddenly feeling a bit disheartened at the loss of his touch. She kisses his cheek, looking at his reflection through the mirror, her eyes alight with adoration. “I promised I’d always be your ally, didn’t I?”

When she and Satoru first met three years ago in the selection for his chief-of-staff, Himiko Zenin, despite coming from the affluent Zenin clan, lagged behind compared to her contenders who aced the exams that tested their knowledge on the law, constitution, history of the imperial system, royal protocol, foreign languages and other aspects that may prove useful for the prince’s right hand. But there was one thing that she had that all the other applicants didn’t have, and she demonstrated that perfectly when Satoru unexpectedly dropped by during the final interviews to speak to each of the candidates himself.

Satoru stared at Himiko with a bored expression that day, his being devoid of any emotion. “Ms. Zenin, it seems you did poorly in all of the exams,” he glances at her file which should have been tossed in the bin by the time she placed last in the jurisprudence exam. “And you’re affiliated with one of the more morally ambiguous families in the country. Looks like today’s just not your day, huh?”

It was true. Having Himiko Zenin as his chief of staff was dangerous from the get-go. The Zenin clan’s head back then during the time of the selection was on trial for graft and corruption. But, there was something Himiko had that all the other applicants did not. At the time, he couldn’t quite put a finger on it but now, after years of selfless service to him, Satoru realizes that it was the ferocious loyalty that hid underneath her then perfectly ordinary shell which he personally refined into the gem of a woman she is now, and she never swore allegiance to the crown but rather to him, Satoru Gojo.

“But, I’ll indulge you,” he reclined against his chair that day, his arms crossed. “Why should I even consider you as my chief of staff? What can you offer me that the others before you cannot?”

Her answer to that question instantly won him over and in that instant, Himiko’s life had changed forever. “Whatever you ask of me, Your Royal Highness, I’d give my very life for you.”

Satoru turns away from the mirror, his lips instantly on hers. His hand dangerously hovered over the hem of her dress. “S-Satoru, what are you doing?” she moans into his mouth as Satoru moves both of them to the bed, he climbs atop of her as she lay on the mattress, her locks splayed over the silk sheets. She knows what he’s doing, this was almost like a film she has seen many times before; this was how tense conversations with Gojo go with him impatiently parting her legs, their hands desperately discarding their clothes until they are left utterly bare before one another.

He wanted to destroy you the same way you destroyed what he had with Himiko. This anger translated into his rough pace. He roughly jostles his hips against Himiko’s, her arms wrapping around him as he buries his cock inside her, his lips covering her milky flesh with dark-purplish bruises, marking her as his.

Call him a sadist but he hopes that Himiko would change into a dress that could flaunt her marked skin so that when you fearfully look around the cathedral, warily searching for her, your heart would break at the sight of the countless hickeys on her neck and collar. He wanted to see you cry the first of the many tears you will shed for the crime of marrying him.

“Satoru…!” she cries out as the luscious feeling of his girth pistoning in and out of her. He grunts as he feels him inch closer and closer to his high. “Mmph—‘Toru,” she whines when he reangles his hips, plunging deeper into her, his arms locking behind hers as he violently chases his release. He’s so close. “I love you, I love you…-a-ah!”

A symphony of pleasured groans falls from his lips, his very being uncoiling as he cums. His hips involuntarily keep thrusting as hot spurts of his cum drips down Himiko’s entrance, mixing with her own release. Himiko frowns as Satoru clicks his tongue at the soiled sheets beneath their connected forms. He groans as he pulls out, sinking into the warmth of her embrace, his still hardened cock poking her inner thigh. “Promise me you’ll only love me?” she whispers as her fingers absentmindedly play with his white hair.

“I promise,” Gojo murmurs into the crook of her neck as he lulled to sleep by her soft, even breaths. “I promise it’s only you…no one else.”

11:45 AM.

Only half an hour left. A crowd of, from what you have heard, 70,000 have gathered on the strip of the main road that the bridal car will pass en route to the cathedral.

“It’s true,” your maid of honor who people refer to as Ieiri says, showing you her phone which showed the many tweets from news agencies, famous personalities and normal people alike about how excited they were to witness your wedding day. There were countless social media posts consisting of yours and Satoru’s official engagement picture and many have taken to hosting their own live-streaming sessions of this monumental day.

“Everyone’s so excited. I wish my wedding would be this big,” one of your bridesmaids sighs dreamily. You manage a small chuckle at her, maybe if she knew of your plight right now, she would probably be eating those words alongside the many petit fours she’s been munching on this past hour. “Look at all those people,” she continues scrolling through her phone.

“It’s the first televised imperial wedding so obviously, it’s a big deal, Riko,” Utahime laughs. “Not to mention, it’s the first time a member of the imperial family would be married in a Western-themed ceremony.” For everyone to see.

One of your newly appointed helpers enters the room, and jogs over to you as quickly as she can in her heels, she has a small jewelry box delicately decorated in an ecru gift wrapper in her hand. “Ms. (Y/N), this is from the prince. His butler told me to give this to you.” You’ve been sad all day and your ladies-in-waiting heave a sigh of relief when they see a hint of a smile on your face, even if it did hold a bit of apprehension.

“Really? For me?” You stand up to accept the small token, careful not to ruffle your wedding dress too much as per the dressmaker’s instructions since the fabric used to construct the piece was susceptible to crumpling. Momentarily setting your phone down on the vanity table mid-text, you graciously accept the wedding gift. Maybe Satoru was starting to warm up to you and that he is now chipping away at the wall he built between the two of you. You hoped that by sending you this gift, this would be the start of something new and better with your husband.

But given how things are, that would be impossible. This was probably just a gift he sent to appease you after many days of effectively acting like you don’t exist.

You open the box and your ladies chatter around you excitedly. “It’s so pretty!” the youngest of your bridesmaids, the daughter of the Japanese ambassador to France apparently, marvels at the pair of earrings. Briefly smiling at her, you then turn your attention to the small letter that was neatly slotted between the groove of the box’s padded interior that held the earrings in place. His handwriting was so conscientiously beautiful that it almost looked like a computer-generated font, there wasn’t a hint of clumsiness in each stroke.

“To (Y/N),

I’m sorry about these past few days. This won’t make up for it, but, I’d like to join you in wishing for a successful marriage together.

– HRH Satoru Gojo”

Your heart slows at the cold closing. He had omitted the words “love” and “sincerely” before his name, but you expected that. If scraps of affection are all you could ever hope to get out of him, you have to learn to deal with it sooner or later; this was your life now, you will always be second to the love of his life. It must have taken everything out of him, and it must have caused an argument to erupt between him and Himiko, to send you this and you understand that he’s also having a difficult time with how things are now but it mattered so much to you to see him try. Regardless if this gift was given to you freely or not, you couldn’t refuse it, even if every voice in your head was screaming at you, reminding you of the horrific scene you saw that day when you caught your fiancé kissing another woman out in the open immediately after you announced your engagement.

“Would you like me to put it on you?” Riko asks. “I’m sure the prince will be happy to see you wear these.”

“You really think so?” you wince when your helper struggles to find your earlobe piercing. “I didn’t know he could be so sweet.” That’s obviously a lie; you know full well Satoru could be sweet, it just pained you to remember that he’s capable being sweet to another deliberately causing you immense grief. Your helper stiffens slightly. She has seen him become sweet before, albeit to another, but she didn’t have to divulge any details and accidentally ruin your wedding day.

She nods shyly, succeeding with the first diamond earring and then the other. She steps away from the mirror. You looked radiant. “Y-yes.”

Noticing her discomfort, you expertly steer the conversation elsewhere. “I see. Well I should probably return the favor.”

You’ve gotten Satoru a wristwatch you and the empress had personally had commissioned by a famed watchmaker that could rival the craftsmanship of a Rolex. It just arrived last night and well, given your current mental state then having taken the brunt of Satoru’s ire the past few days, you couldn’t bring yourself to wrap it. Momentarily deciding if you still had time to have one of your helpers buy some wrapping paper, you realized it would be cutting it too close so you hastily scribbled on a blank dedication card you randomly plucked from one of the bouquets you received. Luckily, some of them had extra cards.

“To Your Royal Highness,

Please don’t apologize, I’m sorry too for being pushy lately. Thank you for the gift, I’ll be sure to take good care of it. Happy wedding day, and I’m looking forward to better days together!

Wholeheartedly yours,

(Y/N) (L/N)”

Reading through it one last time, you affix your name at the end. “You guys are so sweet,” your youngest bridesmaid gushes as she presses a button on the room’s telephone to request for a butler. “I’m sure the prince will love it.”

“Whatever ‘sweet’ means.” You grimace, your unease getting the better of you. A few moments later, a butler peeks into the room. You bound over to him, placing the present in his hands. “Could you please give this to Prince Satoru?” you asked him and the butler looks slightly bewildered at your choice of words. If it was an order, you could have just said so. Perhaps you were still getting used to the idea of having people waiting to attend to your every beck and call.

“Right away, ma’am,” the butler replies obediently nonetheless. “Also I ran into His Majesty’s chamberlain just a while back and he asked me to remind you of the time. Everything’s ready,” he informs you just as he turns to leave in the direction of the palace’s east wing where Satoru's private chambers are. Upon hearing that, the bridal entourage starts to get ready to leave ahead of you, they’ll be going to the venue with a separate convoy from the bride’s since you’ll be driving through some of Tokyo’s major avenues en route to the cathedral.

You watch as they file out of the room in their cream dresses, each one of them, despite having known you for only a little less than half a day, pull you into a bone-crushing hug wishing you well. “Congratulations, (Y/N).”

“Thank you,” you kindly smiled at each one of them as they left.

When you are left alone to your devices, you take one last look at (though you could hardly recognize yourself) the mirror, swallowing harshly, your hand absentmindedly playing with the locket which you continued to wear, ignoring the gracious advice of the Imperial Household Agency’s grand steward to set it aside for today’s festivities as it was uncustomary for royal brides to wear articles of clothing and accessories that did not hold any relation to the imperial family.

Only thirty minutes to go ‘till everything changes. Wait no, that was grossly inaccurate. Everything changed the split second you laid your eyes on him. Since then, everything seems to be a jumbled haze like some sort of psychedelic trance that just won’t end. Reaching for your phone one last time, you hastily search for a particular contact number, your finger hovering over the call button. No, there’s no point, you sniffle softly. Calling her would only make things harder than it already is and backing out of this now is out of the question.

Another knock is heard on the door, but it isn’t as insistent as the first few ones as everyone was starting to get a bit frustrated at you. Did they think you were stalling for time? “Just a minute,” your voice wavers. You just received a new text message from the number you were planning to call.

“We’ll be moving her in a few hours. Will send you her new room number when we get there.”

Bringing the phone to your lips, your heart makes somersaults in your chest when you receive the news. The sacrifice you were still yet to make has already paid off and your ledger of personal favors crossed out with a red marker effectively completing your transaction with the empress. Without even giving you time to text a quick “thank you”, another urgent knock is heard on the door. “Ms. (Y/N), I’m very sorry to interrupt but, we should get going now.”

“I’ll be right there,” you said again, quickly typing another message on your phone: “I wish I was there with her. Please hold her hand for me.” The second it goes through, you quickly shuffled towards the door, your head bowed in apology. You hold your breath as you balance the tiara on your head hoping that it won’t fall as it hangs precariously off-center on the crown of your head, your eyes trained on the ground as the door slides open. “Sorry about that.”

“No worries, I’m pretty patient. Ijichi, on the other hand? Not so much.”

His voice is feather-soft and melodious like a harp string being plucked delicately so that it produces a clear and deep bell-like sound, the very language he chooses to speak with is devoid of neither a shrill nor sharp word unlike the fusillade of orders you’ve been mercilessly bombarded with this entire day. Walk like this, speak like that, don’t do this, and most certainly never do that, you must have gone through a decade’s worth of rules and regulations to follow during the ceremony and even after you’ve said your “I do”’s. Still, you found solace knowing that Satoru is slowly warming up to the idea of cooperating with you, and has even found it in his heart to give you an olive branch of sorts which was now hooped through your earlobes, sparkling under the light like a clear drop of water from the sky.

At first, you naively think it’s him. Did Satoru really come over to see you? While that seemed uncharacteristic of him, the very thought of him voluntarily visiting you planted a sense of relief in you regardless. Maybe he wanted to settle things before the ceremony, to be upfront with you about his intentions in this marriage, how the two of you will be towards one another going forward, and if your luck holds out, maybe he’d finally let you in on his acts of impropriety with Himiko.

But, you would recognize Satoru’s indifferent timbre anywhere, this voice was far too different and seemed much kinder and softer than your fiancé’s.

You slowly open the door to greet your guest, confirming your suspicions as you meet the gaze of a man you haven’t met before. He seems severely unfamiliar.

No, wait. That can’t be it, he may seem unfamiliar but he’s definitely recognizable. In fact, you’ve seen him a few times before, standing feebly next to your fiance during the emperor’s birthday broadcast. Then, it clicks. Wasn't this…?

“Crown Prince Suguru?” you blinked. He’s the only senior member of the imperial family that you’ve never been officially introduced to. Of course, you are on speaking terms with the emperor, the empress and of course, Satoru, but never the prince that idly lingered in their large shadows.

The raven-haired man chuckles deeply at your shocked expression. Clearly, you didn’t expect to meet him under these circumstances, and that caused you to accidentally refer to him as the Crown Prince when that title only belonged to Gojo. He looks at you endearingly, finding you intriguing.

So this was the woman his younger brother is to be married to. Suguru has heard a lot about Satoru’s docile bride-to-be, in fact, he received news of the engagement while he was in Rome, the last leg of his first solo tour in Europe. People were so quick to label it as a pivotal point in the history of the Japanese monarchy and that you are the symbol of change, specifically, they likened you to a camellia blooming in a sea of chrysanths, a breath of spring in the imperial family’s everwinter – alluring in every sense of the word. But, alluring isn’t exactly a word he’d use to describe you seeing as you’ve only just met but, right now, he found you to be so adorably cute that he might just start to believe the things they say about you on the news.

“It’s just Prince Suguru. Satoru’s the Crown Prince.” The gentle correction makes you so flustered that you feel blood rush up to your ears, a tell-tale sign of your abasement. “But you could just call me Suguru.”

“Oh, right, my mistake,” you rub your eyelid, growing embarrassed. “Prince Suguru,” you stressed his correct title, remedying your earlier mishap. Despite you being in heels, you can’t see past him, given that he towered over you so easily so you stand on your tallest tiptoes, trying to peek over his shoulder. “You haven’t happened to see Mr. Ijichi, have you? He was right outside the door a few minutes ago.”

Suguru buries his hands in his pockets. “He just left, you’re welcome,” he winks at you, having sent Ijichi on his way when he accidentally stumbled across him furiously tapping on your door as he was making his way to his car.

Ijichi was…difficult to get along with — he’s short-fused, demanding at some times, and he is what people could call a stickler for the rules — Suguru isn’t doesn’t really want to say nasty words about his father’s grand steward and he’d give credit where it’s due since Ijichi is not just efficient when it comes to running the imperial household but he is also fiercely dedicated to every member of the imperial family.

Still, he couldn’t count the many times Ijichi had to scold him for all the mischief he caused while he was growing up even if his life depended on it. The worst scolding he got from the older man was when Suguru went missing on his fifth birthday, having snuck out of the banquet hall with at least ten pieces of bread stuffed in his pockets with every intention to feed them to the many ducks in the imperial garden’s ponds.

“What?” your eyes nearly pop out of their sockets, you were going to get an earful later. “You mean he went ahead without me?”

“It’s alright. You’ll see him later, sure he’s probably going to talk your ear off but he means well, trust me,” Suguru flashes you a reassuring smile.

You look at him, your lip curled into an uneasy grin. “That doesn’t sound like fun,” you bemoaned, having had enough reprimands to last you until your next life. “So, with Mr. Ijichi gone, forgive my bluntness, but am I right to assume that Your Highness will be the one to bring me to the cathedral?”

Suguru accommodatingly holds out his arm for you to hold onto. “You assume correctly,” he says warmly. You expect him to hurriedly lead you down the steps leading to the palace’s main driveway, but he does something entirely different. “Are you ready to go or do you still need more time?”

That was the first time anyone in a kilometer-wide radius has asked you what you want to do instead of telling you what to do.

Suguru watches every small change in your expression. He figured that you must be pretty tired of people treating you like some robot, training you to blindly obey every order perfectly. The jet black-haired prince has only known you for two minutes and his heart is already disintegrating for your current predicament of feeling completely and entirely alone. If he could alleviate your troubles even with just a small act of kindness by engaging in polite conversation with you and actually listening to what you have to say instead of talking over you like most of your etiquette coaches have done all day, then, he’ll gladly tune in to listen to you even as you read through an entire book of sonnets if you ever felt up to it.

Being validated comes a long way, and if anyone understands your plight, it was him and even if he didn’t understand, he’ll do everything he can to try regardless.

“I-I’m ready,” you nodded hesitantly and Suguru doesn’t walk ahead right away and allows you to set the pace as you walk past the line of attendants that bowed to you and the prince as you made your way to the imperial family’s very own Toyota Century convertible which had been custom-made for you.

The open top roof gave onlookers access to see their future empress as the motorcade departs from the Kōkyo Imperial Palace and follows a 4.6-kilometer route that will travel to the St. Mary’s Cathedral, the seat of the Roman Catholic archdiocese of Tokyo. Neither you nor Satoru were practicing Catholics yet, the imperial family has decided that a Christian-themed wedding rather than the ancient Buddhist matrimonial ceremony that is usually done away from public view would make the imperial system appear more accessible to the people.

Suguru helps you into the car, gently arranging the train of your gown so that it doesn’t get all wrinkled. “Thank you, Your Highness” you whisper to Suguru who squeezes your free hand as if to say “you’re welcome”. The car’s engine hums to life the minute the two of you are settled in the backseat. “W-what am I supposed to do now?” you asked, readjusting your grip on your bridal bouquet.

The prince lets out a humored snort, having forgotten that this was your first official function. Showing you the correct way to wave and the right angle to face and bow to the crowd, he watches you closely, allowing you to struggle for a bit before stepping in to help with some encouraging words. “Just keep smiling and waving. It’s just like being onstage, you know.” At the center of the motorcade, six police cars patrol every side of the convertible forming a ring of protection just in case someone in the crowd with ill-intentions would try to harm either you or the monarch next to you.

Countless people erupt in happy cheers at the sight of you and Suguru, some are simply content with waving while others are holding up flowers and tossing them to the front of the crowd barriers in jubilation. “It feels a little more intense than just being onstage,” you mumbled, your eyes landing on a little girl sitting in her mother’s arms as she waves a little Japanese flag in her hand which looked like she made it in her arts and craft class. You awkwardly wave at her, chuckling when she happily waves back, delighted to see you directly looking at her.

“Well, you’re doing great.” He inches closer to you, wrapping a steadying arm around your waist while the other guides your hand, gently angling it in a more prominent position so that you look a little more assertive. “Like this,” Suguru helps you wave in a more continuous manner, teaching you to center the motion by keeping your elbow mostly stationary and allowing only your wrist to subtly move from side to side. “And keep doing what you’re doing. Make eye contact with them; make them understand that you see each and every one of them.”

Suguru watches you bow and wave to the spectators with a proud smile on his face; the motorcade has now reached the Shinjuku area and is nearing its destination of Bunkyo-ku where the cathedral is and even still, the crowd doesn’t appear to thin out. Suguru feels like he’s watching history unfold before his very eyes. He wonders if Satoru had purposefully chosen a commoner to conjure up a classic “love conquers all” romance of his own wedding day, if he did, then Suguru must congratulate him for a job well done. No one has ever come out to see a member of the imperial family in this sheer number, he daresay, not even the empress on her wedding day or His Majesty on his coronation day.

But with you, this day is nothing short of a revolution.

“Your Highness, you’re staring.” Suguru hums, confused, before realizing that he’s been looking at you funny. “You’re still staring,” you said succinctly.

“Oh, sorry.” Suguru says awkwardly and you couldn’t help but let out a slight snort. “What?” he cocks his head in your direction. You were laughing, though brief, the very sound of it brings a smile to his face. “It was about time though. We’ve been in this car for more than fifteen minutes now and that right there is the first genuine act of happiness I’ve seen you make,” he remarks. He was starting to think that you were incapable of smiling which he found a little unsettling since brides aren’t exactly despondent during their wedding day. Of course, what would he know? His little brother had gotten married ahead of him.

You crinkle your nose in mock displeasure. “That’s kinda mean and probably the last thing I’d say to someone I just met…with all due respect, Your Highness.”

Suguru grins at your tiny jab at his character, and to think that he nearly bought into the whole “as demure as a butterfly” thing they said about you in the papers. Make no mistake though, he sees how elegantly ladylike you are, but he also sees how you are so effortlessly spellbinding with your wit translated into a few short but sweet words. No wonder Satoru fell for you and even gave up his vice-like romance with his chief-of-staff to marry you, he thinks to himself. “Alright, alright, I’m sorry that was a bit uncalled for.”

“Oh— Your Highness, I was just joking.” You waved to the crowd of people on Suguru’s side of the car, grimacing when you see a few schoolboys, probably university students with how tall and mature they looked, pretend to blow you kisses. Indulging them, you subtly return the gesture flustered beyond all measure. Everything feels so public now, and you are left wondering about how you could survive the rest of your life like this.

“…I knew that.” Choosing momentary silence, Suguru finally decides to chip away at the facade you were putting up. He could see it in your eyes, you were a cross between scared and unhappy which is clearly normal for someone who is marrying into the oldest monarchy in the world. You weren’t at all what the members of the Imperial Household Agency said of you when you were out of earshot: a sorry excuse of a future empress who is privileged in every way but can’t find it within herself to stop her endless complaining. “Just trying to make you smile, that’s all.”

Shouldn’t your future husband be doing that? You sighed. Oh right, he was probably busy comforting Himiko. She probably needed him now more than ever after everything you’ve done to torment her. “Thank you, Your Highness.”

“Suguru,” he corrects kindly. “If you’re going to marry my little brother, you could, at least, drop the troublesome title when you’re talking to me.”

Little brother? How have you never heard of this before? You knew Satoru had a brother, but you never thought Suguru would be the older one out of the two of them. If that was the case, then, why didn’t he get the title of “Crown Prince”?

“Weird, huh?” He breaks you out of your trance, as if he heard the question swirling around in your head. “Why is Satoru the Crown Prince and not me?”

“Are you psychic or something?” you playfully teased, slowly growing more comfortable with the jet black-haired prince that sported an Apollo-like smile - warm, and inviting. “Where’d you learn to do that?”

Suguru shrugs. “Why? Whose mind do you want to read?”

Satoru’s, you smiled sadly. Maybe by unraveling the inner machinations of your soon-to-be husband’s mind, you could learn to meet him halfway by understanding him a little better; no person is born inherently cruel and while you had your doubts, you know, in your heart, that Satoru is no exception to that rule. “No one in particular.”

“Ah, well, I expected that.” He grinned at how guarded you are, reclining against the plush seat of the car to rest his stiffening back for a minute. The convoy is about ten minutes away from the cathedral now.

You offered him some consolation though, grateful for this light-hearted chat. “Let’s just trade answers next time.”

“I’ll hold you to it.”

Himiko thought this day would be horrible but it turns out it isn’t as bad as she pessimistically thought. If she only knew that this was how the love of her life’s wedding would go with him still inviting her to his bed before he gets hitched off, then, maybe she shouldn’t have been so awful towards you who never stood a chance against her. Competing with you would be like making a rival of a rat; it would be unnecessary trouble. Still, even if she had all but won against you (as if you were worthy enough to even become her opponent), that didn’t stop the Zenin clan’s little darling from causing a little trouble today.

Her eyes flutter open to reveal Gojo’s handsome slumbering face, utterly spent from their lovemaking session, their naked forms still entangled together under the cotton-percale sheets. She stretches her supple body luxuriously, and pulls away from Satoru’s embrace earning a small “mmph” of disapproval from her lover. Giggling, she plants a soft kiss on his chiseled cheek.

“Your Highness?” Someone says from behind the door. Taking one last look at Satoru’s sleeping form, she walks leisurely to answer it, clad only in the prince’s shirt which ran above her knee.

Leaning against the door, she answers for the prince, a detestable act similar to a cardinal sin. It was forbidden for a mere servant to speak for any member of the imperial family. In the past, in the Japanese empire’s golden age, a servant who took the words out of their master’s mouth would have their tongue swiftly sliced off. But Himiko is not a servant, nor is she subject to the rules as long as the prince was around. “His Highness is asleep.”

On his wedding day? The butler nods stiffly. “I see. Ms. Zenin, can I trouble you with this? The prince’s fiancé has sent him a wedding gift.”

Himiko doesn’t answer for a long while and a tense silence fills the room. “Fine, but have you done what I asked?” she relents opening the door, the butler’s face turns red at the sight of her lack of modesty. “Having you run my errands isn’t cheap, you know.”

The attendant bows his head, “Yes. She’s currently wearing it right now, last I saw.”

“Good. I’ll be taking this then.” She shakes the box to get a feel of what’s inside, not that it would be anything of high value though given its cheap sender.

Curiosity gets the better of her and she succinctly opens the gift, her eyebrow quirked. A watch. Very typical. She notes how it’s made out of silver and she scoffs harshly. Even if she didn’t chuck it into the trash, Satoru would have done it himself since he prefers gold pieces over silver and he most certainly wouldn’t want to touch anything that was from you given how he loathed the very idea of you.

The attendant gulps when he sees Himiko harshly discard your gift. “Ms. Zenin, don’t you think that giving her that would be taking it too far? You know how the Crown Prince feels about those earrings. If he ever were to find out that it had gone missing…”

She turns her head in the direction of the bed where Gojo was currently tossing and turning in his sleep. “Then, I’ll tell His Highness that his chief butler,” her eyes were aglow with cunning as the butler trembled slightly at her murderous gaze. “Is a thief who stole from the imperial vaults, and if you ever decide to rat me out, who do you think the prince will believe? A nameless no account like you or me?”

It slowly registers in the attendant’s mind that he had been utterly played when Himiko asked him to give those earrings to you via an under the table agreement, it’s not like Satoru prepared a wedding gift for you anyway thinking that showing up to the accursed wedding in itself is a generous gift already. “…You used me…!” he whispers angrily, not wanting to rouse the prince.

Himiko shrugs nonchalantly. “And you were stupid enough to be used for a few banknotes. Now get lost, I’ll just inform His Highness of your voluntary resignation tomorrow morning.”

She closes the door on the rattled servant and saunters back over to the bed, slipping back under the sheets. Satoru sleepily notices the bed dip with her weight, and unconsciously snuggles closer to her, his arms wrapped around her form. She lovingly strokes his disheveled hair alternating between twirling his locks in her index finger and massaging his scalp as if she hadn’t just ruined a man’s life two minutes ago. Her hands reach for the phone on the nightstand and she scrolls through her feed watching a video of the bridal car pulling up to the cathedral.

She boredly watches you step out of the car with your hand looped through Suguru’s arm shyly waving to the thousands happily anticipating this glorious day while your bridesmaids help you with your wedding gown’s train so it doesn’t snag across the concrete steps. It takes about five minutes for the cathedral’s towering doors to open and she smirks when she sees you slowly make your way inside, completely oblivious to the fact that your groom is not at the end of the aisle where you expected him to be and is instead still soundly asleep next to her.

The silence that follows is indicative of the horrific scene that greeted you and Himiko switches off her phone, settling back into the pillows contentedly. Serves you right, (Y/N), she smirks.

12:30 PM.

Funny how you think that you’re immune to awful things that happen to other people…before it happens to you. There’ve been hundreds of stories like this before, but you never thought that you’d find yourself in the long list of unfortunate jilted brides. Your hands tremble as you hold your bouquet of white calla lilies and baby’s breaths. Surely you must have gone blind or something or this was all some sick dream, you desperately search the cathedral room with abject horror in your eyes. It couldn’t be…you take an uneasy step toward the witness as your wedding guests whisper amongst themselves, their hearts filled to the brim with condolences for you.

Something in you jeeringly mocks you as if to chide you for living too long in the forest of your fantasy, dodging every pocket of reality’s sunlight as it shines through the many trees you’ve cultivated with your delusions that this…whatever the hell this is…could miraculously work out in the end. That you stood a chance against all the cards that were catastrophically stacked against you, and that he could give you even just a scintilla of respect if it was truly impossible for him to ever learn to love you.

“Suguru,” you instinctively clutch his hand as if by him squeezing your hand back, you could miraculously be put together again. You were so heartbroken that you didn't even realize that you just called him by his name, forgoing the mention of his venerable title. “…I-I…” you gulp as you feel the dreaded words lodge deep in your throat, clogging your airways with uncried sobs.

“Oh, (Y/N), I’m so sorry…”

“…Where’s Satoru?”

water’s edge taglist: @dummyf @kentokaze @esthelily @mandysfanfics @userbananababes @strawberryjimin13 @snowprincesa1 @naturallyspontaneous @kooromin @gojoist @dcvilxswish @13-09-01 @peachipeachy @iluv-ace @sawendel @helloitsshitzulover @jjuniescuderia @ackermendick @starrylibras @timetobegone @heelariously @idktbhloley @jeon-blue @8aif9sgbsnn @purpleguk @rednezvous @yeseurri @floralsightings @yoheyyosup @dontwannacry04 @dragonladyy

REBLOGS AND INTERACTIONS IS WHAT KEEPS AUTHORS GOING SO SHOW SOME LOVE ✨💕 mwah! see you all in episode 2.5!

#fic: water’s edge #gojo smut #jjk #jjk angst #geto suguru #gojo satoru #jjk x you #gojo x reader #gojo x reader angst #gojo x you angst #geto x reader angst #geto x you angst #jujutsu kaisen angst #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #geto suguru x reader #gojo satoru x reader angst #geto suguru x reader angst #gojo x reader smut #gojo satoru x reader smut #jjk imagines #gojo angst #geto angst #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jjk gojo #jjk geto #gojo satoru angst

[nokacchan]

Dad skz with felix?? Where you are out of house for work so you leave your toddler with Felix who takes him with himself to the jyp building and sends you vids of your baby having fun with the boys and what not and then when you come back from work he is at home where they both are passed out from exhaustion and all...

Like yeah it's a but messy but it's so adorable when you think about it. You don't have to write it obviously but if yoou can it would be awesome. I have one for Chan as well. I will send in the next one.

xoxo

-L

pairing : lee felix x fem!reader

genre : dad!felix , fluff

w.c 2.1k

📎rei's notes : this is so adorable 🥹 I might start crying >< ANYWAYS, I got a little carried away🤭 not proofread ! Thanks for sending this L <3

wifey❣️ :

Make sure you bring his favorite blanket

loml <3 :

yes love, I remember 🙇🏻‍♀️

you even double checked it this morning before you left

wifey❣️

just making sure😓 stay safe alright!

love you ❤️

loml <3 :

love you too baby 😘

I'll call you during lunch time

Felix let out a chuckle before turning to look at his just turned one year old son sitting in the baby seat at the back.

"your mommy is so funny, she is so worried about leaving you with me for one day", felix shook his head.

Your son only let out a giggle as he cuddled into his blanket.

"I HEARD LITTLE LIX IS HERE!", Chan yelled in his Aussie accent as he entered the dance room.

Your son let out a happy shriek when he recognized the voice. He bounced about as his hands leaned against the sofa, waiting for chan to pick him up.

Chan swooped in and carried your son into his arms, leaving small pecks on his puffy cheeks. Your son continued to giggle even louder. Felix smiled as he watched his older friend hold his son.

Suddenly he received an incoming video call. A smile immediately appeared on his face. He immediately answered it.

'Wifey❣️'

Chan sat your son on felix's lap as you waved to the screen. "Hello~", a wide smile appeared on your face when you saw your son trying to grab a hold of your husband's phone.

"hello love, how's work?", felix spoke while still trying to stop his son's grabby hands from reaching the phone.

"They settled the issue already~ sorry I had to leave you with him for the day", you pouted, feeling guilty for troubling him.

Felix shook his head. "He is my son anyways and it's not a problem to bring him to work, the boys love him", felix replied, reassuring you with a adorable smile. "I saw the videos you sent me, I'm glad our son is having fun with the boys", you added on. Felix hummed in response.

You could hear on the line, your son whining. You could see his hand trying to grab felix's phone. It made you chuckled.

"baby, give him the phone", you told felix.

Felix pouted before letting his son hold the phone. "Hi my handsome baby", you cooed.

Your son let out a happy shriek. "ma~", he called out before speaking gibberish. You were smiling from eye to eye.

Felix smiled looking down at your son talking to you. He gently combed through his son's baby hair.

you unlocked the door, calling out to felix but no one answered. You heard the TV playing in the background.

You entered the living room to see your husband fast asleep on the couch with your son on his chest while one of his arm, rested gently above your son's small body.

You stood infront of them. Leaning down to peck your son's head before moving upwards to leave a peck on your husband's forehead. Your hands lingers a little longer on felix's hair. A small smile appeared on your face, you felt your life completed.

The end.

#felix x reader #lee felix x reader #lee felix x reader fluff #lee felix x you #felix x you #stray kids x reader fluff #stray kids x you #stray kids x reader #skz x you #skz x reader #skz scenarios #stray kids scenarios #skz imagines #stray kids imagines #stray kids fluff #skz fluff

[star-girl69]

FINALE THOUGHTS 😭

ARES STOP BEING MEAN

NO STOP HES JUST A BABY

YES PERCY ABOUT THAT ACTION JACKSON GET HIM GET HIM

oh he ate

ANNABETH PUTTING HER CAMP NECKLACE ON HIM???? I CRIED

also percy please stop like sacrificing yourself i cant do this tbh

luke i love you i hate you

you’re so hot

the crime of being small

the way bro just casually shows up to olympus what the hell

oh hi zeus…. how are you haha…

PERCY YOU’RE STRESSING ME OUT

JUST LEAVE STOP

POSEIDON OMG OMG OMG OMG

YOU SURRENDER???? BITCH WHAT

oh that accent is so sexy i’m sorry. poseidon i love you…

“FAMILY BUSINESS” LMAOOOOOOO

father son moment i’m dead i’m destroyed

POSEIDON YOU BITCH WTF WTF WHAT THE FUCK

PERCABETH HUG

WOAH WOAHW AOHW

IS THAT THE LOML

i need a second.

she looks so good holy fuck

please i cant do this

she didn’t do this stop being ASSHOLES FUCK!!!!!

“you’re thinking about your mom. i get that” HOLY FUCK LUKE

OH HOLY FUCK

OH OH OH OH OH OH OH OH OH OH

THIS IS INSANE

WHAT THE HELL WHAT THE HELL I CANT DO THIS

RECRUIT???

NO DONT FIGHT

WOAH WHATS HAPPENING HOLD ON

ANNABETH

THE WAY HE SAID HER NAME

SHE HEARD EVERYTHING

like luke is not wrong bro the gods suck as parents pls y’all be fr

“but i’m very very stubborn” LMAOOOOO

aw he made chiron proud ☹️

PERCY JACKSON

CHIRON LOOKS LIKE HES GONNA CRY LMAO

annabeth her hair ate omg

awwwww his smile 😔😔😔😔😔

“be a kid” CRYING

awwww grover got his searcher’s license

THE PACTTTTT 😭😭😭😭😭

THE HUG IM GONNA KMS FUCK

oh lord why we back at this fuckass beach

SALLY THANK THE GODS

mother son hug i cried

“it’s a long story… but a good one” crying

what.

bro excuse me who is that

KRONOS GET OUT HOLY FUCK YOURE RUINING EVERYTHING YOU DUMBASS MOTHERFUCKING BITCH I HATE YOU

kronos wdym by that…

SALLY!!!!!!! THANK GOD I WAS SCARED

yeah percy don’t call him that that’s weird 😭

MOTHER SON MOMENT I CRIED

THE BLUE PANCAKES!!!!!! YES!!!!! YES!!!!! YESSSS!!!!!!!!!!!!!

haha…. wdym… wdym. WHAT DO YOU FUCKING MEAN.

CLARISSE COME BACK PLEASE CLARISSE COME BACK I NEED YOU

the end scene fuck yeah gabe serves you damn right

CLARISSE COME BACK CLARISSE COME BACK CLARISSE PLEASE PLEASE PLESDE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

THIS IS SO FUCKED I CANT DO THIS

GOD PLEASE COME BACK

CLARISSE WHERE ARE YOU I MISS YOU COME HOME

CLARISSSEEEEEEEE CLAAAAARRRRRIIIIISSSEEEEEEE CLLLLAAAAAARRRRRRIIIIIIIIISSSSSSSEEEEEE

don’t talk to me.

#addie says stuff!!!

[shuuuuush]

💙 for darkest because he is the loml 🫶 maybe just some highlights from a footasylum video w him and some of the other common people. would prefer if it wasn’t like OVERLY romantic because that gives me the ick but just like kinda cute …. I FEEL SO WEIRD REQUESTING THIS BUT YK WHATEVER and u also know how i look now so if u want those details may make it easier ??? IDK …

SOMETIMES U GOTTA LEAVE UR COMFORT ZONE GUYS !!! BUT IF U DONT WANNA WRITE THIS THEN HMU IN MESSAGES AND ILL UNDERSTAND !!! 😭😭

DONT WORRY OFC ILL WRITE THIS FOR YOU GIRL ❤️

So sorry this took so long to post 😭 I hope you like it 🫶

Laughter With You | Darkest Man

"Home school is back!" Sharky spoke, as he raised his hands in the air, earning a cheer from all the others there, you, Darkest, Harry, and Filly. "Yes, this is the show where fully grown adults take on school children at maths, science, and history. Plus a bonus round of English for our special guest."

"Yes, I know this sounds unfair, but when you find out who the contestants are for this season, you'll realise that the kids actually have an advantage." Sharky grinned as he looked around to the others, a shocked look on their faces, offended at what he just said, mumbling that what he said was rude although a smile on their faces peaked through.

"So do you guys wanna introduce yourselves?" You laughed, clasping your hands together as you glanced around the room.

This was a new season of home schooled and you got invited on for a special first video. Normally, there would be 3 people battling this 6 year old, named Timmy, but they decided that since it was the first video back for the season, they let you join in for the extra round. (Darkest also may or may not have begged for you to be in a video together to the producers)

Filly started to speak first since he was already at the table with little Timmy starting off, "Hello everyone, I'm Yung Filly, and I like to say a little slogan that goes like yeahh man!"

Harry, Darkest, and you were all sitting on the famous homeschooled couch, going in order to introduce yourselves to the camera.

Harry spoke next, the camera turning to him, "Yeah, uh, my name's HP like the sauce, Harry Pinero, but today I am Quincu Osafia."

"Hello, my name is Darkest Man, aka darkest of men and I, uh, decorate traffic lights."

Everyone laughed, including you suddenly clutching onto Darkest's arm as you laughed. It was so random, but it did make the video all the more funnier, saying the same thing all the time would have been boring.

"Hey there, I'm Allygater, aka Ally and the special guest for today's video!" You raised your hands, as everyone shouted a welcome to you, and you bowed, saying thank you, not forgetting of course to point to the young boy, Timmy, and introducing himself as the other special guest but an opponent on today's video.

The first subject was maths, Filly up against Timmy, and everyone beating him up about how he's definitely not going to win this one.

----

During the middle of Filly's subject, someone's phone began to ring, all turning your heads as you see Harry bending to grab his phone.

Sharky going over to reach and take Harry's phone, "I'm gonna have to confiscate your phone, no phones in the classroom."

Harry protested and repeatedly kept saying, "It's my son." A chuckle came from out of you, looking over at Darkest as he had the exact same thought as you.

"Wait, how have you got a son in school?" You spoke, causing everyone to laugh too, earning a look from Harry as he grudgingly handed his phone to Sharky.

"Wait, wait, what year is this, Mr. Sharky?" You asked, trying to hold in your laughter, as you glanced around at everyone's faces, them doing the same.

"This is Year 2."

That's when you couldn't hold it in anymore. You burst out laughing as you clutched onto your stomach, Filly saying, "Year 2, and you got yute already?" That definitely did not make it any better as you laughed your heart out, tears forming slightly as everyone made it worse by adding more comments onto it.

"Imagine being like, sorry sir, I have to go pick up my son." Harry put on the funniest baby voice ever that got you all cracking up.

"Who picked you up from school then?" Darkest added, As he saw the look on your face, he laughed harder, grabbing your hand as you both laughed together.

----

Darkest smiled as he watched you try and help the kid, with answers against Filly, sneakily coughing and then saying the answer, to which Sharky pretended not to notice.

Both you and Darkest ended up helping the kid at times with the answers to the questions. Despite Filly shouting, "That's cheating," it made it more funnier to do so.

"The answer is," you coughed, "The 80s," coughing again.

"No no Ally it's," coughs even louder, "Harry Pineros time," followed by another cough.

Your eyes widened as you stifled a laugh, Harry sending a glare between the both of you as you just violated his age for what seemed like the 10th time this whole video.

----

It was now science, Darkest's turn. Sharky introduced him, saying that both Filly and Harry have lost against a six year old, but Darkest has the chance to steal the win.

You cheered, whooping, "You got this!"

Darkest's cheeks turned a small pink, a bashful smile appearing on his face as he said, "Aw, thanks babe."

You raised a brow, "Not you, the kid."

A cough choked out of Filly next to you as he started laughing, yelling, "Ain't no way, she just did that to you, bruva!"

Harry and Sharky follow suit with laughter. After hearing what you said, Harry shaked his head with a laugh as he kept repeating over, "Absolute violation. Absolute Violation."

Darkest slumping over, putting his head on the table with a dejected look, although you knew it was fake, you still couldn't help but let a small frown on your face.

"Sorry, love you though, it was too funny to resist." You apologised, sending an apologetic smile Darkest's way. Earning an eye roll from him, making the rest of you all laugh.

----

"Ok, so, how am I doing so far? What's the score?" Darkest asked Sharky, turning to him.

"It is... 3-3" Sharky responded, a shocked look appearing as he raised his brows. "If you get this next point, you win."

"Wow, babe, I thought you were dumb. But now I guess you're only a little bit dumb." You smirked, Darkest gasped, placing a hand on his chest, taking "offence."

"How could my own girlfriend call me dumb?See Timmy, a great example of why you should never date."

Now it was your turn to be shocked, scoffing as your mouth was left agape, slowing reaching over to cover your mouth with your hand.

Shaking your head as you slowly said, "You. Did. Not."

"Ohh couple scrap!" Harry said, clutching onto Filly's arm as he laughed.

"Not in my classroom anyways, take your couple problems and go." Sharky pointed towards the outer set, the camera crew waving towards you both.

"How are you lot in year 2 and are dating already? Mental." Filly chuckled, remembering what you said earlier about this class being "year 2."

----

You were up next, the other three grown ass men not winning against the six year old. This was going to be interesting, the subject was English. And even though you were from Norway, you were going to ace this.

Darkest wouldn't be able to say anything afterwards when I win. You thought to yourself, a shit eating grin arising.

"Now your question is, how do you spell Asylum?" Sharky asked, looking back down at his notes to make sure he got it right in his head too.

"Wow, fits perfectly for this video." Darkest admitted, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned back into the sofa.

"And why is that?" You asked, looking down at your board as you wrote.

"Because you're a lunatic." He spoke, plain and simple, gazing straight into your blue eyes. If you looked hard enough, you'd see his gaze soften just by glancing your way.

Harry put a hand on his friend's shoulder, whispering, but it was loud enough for everyone to hear, "That's why you feel in love with her, though, right? You're one as well."

"Aww, that's cute though, innit? I like seeing interactions like these." Filly giggled, watching the both of you.

"I thought he was gonna say because this is on Footasylum, didn't expect that, though." Sharky said as he put down his cards to turn to you and Timmy, as you buzzed first.

Turning to show your board, Sharky looked at you and then his cards, nodding his head, "That is correct!"

You bowed, "See? I can spell."

"Good job." Timmy said in the cutest voice. All of you turned to say, "Aww," you side hugged the little man, saying, "He is so cute, honestly."

You could guess that when you looked up, Darkest's brows furrowed, watching the scene in front of him. Yes, he thought it was cute too, but maybe he was a little bit jealous.

As if reading his mind, "Watch out, Darkest, Timmy's gonna steal your gyal." Filly laughed as he saw Darkest's reaction, earning a smack from the guy.

"HE'S SIX YEARS OLD HE AIN'T STEALING NOTHING."

You smiled, letting go of Timmy, and sitting upright properly. Darkest being jealous was something you definitely didn't know you'd see today but it was cute in a way.

You ended up giving the win to Timmy. Even though Darkest chewed you out for it, he gave you the longest hug afterwards, and you wouldn't have it any other way right now.🫶

Requested by: @allygatcr

#marly's 100 followers celebration #Fic for Ally #darkest man #darkest x ally

[hippolotamus]

Thanks for the tags @panbuckley @spotsandsocks 🥰

No pressure tagging @shortsighted-owl @alyxmastershipper @stereopticons @elvensorceress @monsterrae1 @buddierights @911onabc @littlebitofdiaz @mysteriouslyyounggalaxy @heartbeatdiaz @prince-buck-diaz @the-likesofus @megsvstheworld @honestlydarkprincess @jesuisici33 @rmd-writes @apothecarose LOML @lizzie-bennetdarcy and anyone else who wants to share what they're up to

This is way more than seven sentences because I couldn't decide. Oops.

“This awful, cursed thing— Argh!” Eddie drops the ends of the bowtie in frustration. It’s not like he even wants to attend this wretched ball. At least not for the reasons he is.  It would be one thing if he were going as a spectator. If only it were that simple. Instead he’s expected to not only be there, but socialize, dance, and interact with potential partners. How is he meant to choose someone to spend the rest of his life with -- someone to care for his son -- based on how well they can perform the quadrille or regurgitate meaningless facts? It’s utter insanity.  “Daddy?” The timid voice reaches out from behind him.  Eddie turns to see Christopher hovering in the doorway, watching intently. The weight of tonight’s expectations drops, letting him breathe as he goes to his son, picking him up and ruffling his curls. “Yes?” “Can I come with you?” “I wish,” Eddie huffs out a humorless laugh. “It would be way more interesting with you there. Honestly, I’d much rather stay here with you.”

“Why don’t you then?” Christopher blinks and scrunches his brows together behind his glasses.  Eddie envies his youthful ignorance, for not yet understanding the pressures and politics of adulthood. He sighs and rubs his temple with his free hand, trying to think of an explanation that isn’t an outright lie. With everything that’s happened in Christopher’s short life, Eddie always wants to be honest with him.  “Well, because,” he stretches the words out as his brain continues to configure them into an acceptable arrangement, “I promised your abuela I would go.” Chris nods thoughtfully, seeming to accept the answer he’s been given. But, of course, he’s always been more perceptive than Eddie gives him credit for. “Is this because she wants me to have a new mom?” “Not a new one, exactly. You know that no one could ever replace your mother. This would be someone else to love and take care of you.” “But I thought that’s why we have Carla,” Chris protests. Eddie chuckles at his son’s logic and thinks he might be the one person who could match wits with Helena Diaz. “She absolutely does both of those things. Carla loves and cares about you very much. It’s just… your abuela has some different ideas. She’s a little stuck in the past sometimes.” “Okay then.” Christopher grins brightly, removing any traces of his serious persona. “Then I hope you have fun and find someone nice.” “Me, too, bud. Me, too.” Eddie’s brought back to reality when his valet announces the carriage is ready. Eddie presses a kiss to Christopher’s temple and gently sets him on the floor. “Be good for Carla?” Christopher rolls his eyes like Eddie’s made the most absurd request. “Always.” He jogs down the staircase, hoping in vain to burn off some of his nervous energy. His cloak is nearly arranged when the call comes from the upper floor. “Daddy! Your tie!” Right. Eddie takes a centering breath and makes a final attempt to knot the material together in front of the hall mirror. Miraculously he makes it in one pass this time. He turns with a flourish so Christopher can make his assessment.  Chris beams down at him with a toothy grin. “Be good for Abuela!” Eddie gives Christopher an exaggerated bow, drinking in the giggle that floats down. He snaps it up, like something he could keep in his pocket. A protective barrier from whatever he may have to face tonight. With a heavy sense of dread sitting like a stone in his stomach, Eddie waves goodbye and walks outside to the carriage. As he steps up to the plush, forest green velvet bench, he just wishes it felt less like marching to the Tower of London.  “Ready, sir?” His driver asks from the front. No. “Ready.”

#sunday sentences #hippo writes #bridgerton au #fic: come close (let me be home) Bridgerton #oh eddie honey just you wait

[lee-minhoe]

i heard you like song kang so here i am: presenting "gu won and yeonjun have the same style and i'm totally not delusional"

you can't tell me this song kang doesn't give off the same vibes as yeonjun in an oversized cardigan and sunglasses (i don't have a pic but can you imagine the vibe)

and the above is another demonstration of them wearing those low V neck shirts that kind of show off their chest(?) idk they're father and son in my head

also if you're fine with me popping into your inbox to talk about song kang i'll absolutely do it more often <3

you are not delusional because i actually got an instagram reel comparing jeong guwon and yeonjun too 😂😂😂 i see it HAHAHAHA

and yes i welcome any and all song kang content if you want to pop in my inbox again heheeheheh 🥰 loml 🥰 have you seen many of his other dramas?

#im so sad he'll be enlisting soon 😭😭😭 #cant wait for new my demon eps tmrw!!!! #planetkiimchi #answered

[dameronology]

In honour of helmetless Din pics and the dream I had last night...

HC of Din and an SO taking care of him and Grogu? My dream last night was pretty much me running around fixing everyone's problems (because even in my dreams I can't escape being people's therapist 🙄) and Din trying to get me to calm down before I hurt myself 😅

mmm yes domestic din the loml

it's easy to go absolutely fucking insane on the razor crest

the ship itself is falling apart and din djarin's to do list of shit to fix is longer than the list of new parts he has to buy

then you consider the pilot himself: a man who regularly forgets to eat and runs on like two hours sleep and pure spite

then there's the kid. small, green, objectively cute, cries for hours if you don't give him attention and oh look!! there he goes again BREAKING THE FUCKING SHIP

so yeah. not the calmest place in the world.

and when you feel this innate need to look after din and the kid and try and keep the razor crest in working order, it's easy to lose yourself to it

but let it be said: din never let you into his life or his ship with the intention of you becoming the unofficial caretaker. you're smart and a bad-ass and not a house wife (husband/spouse, pick ur fighter) but goddamn hell it is in your nature to put everyone before yourself

din gets that. he really does. he's given up nights of sleeps and days of food for his son. he's thrown aside the very foundations of self care in pursuit of a bounty. our guy has exactly minus three legs to stand on when it comes to calling you out for not looking after yourself

the difference is that he loves you more than anything in the world and he is quite frankly fuming that you're running around like a headless chicken in pursuit of other people's happiness

din's first port of call is to get you to sit the bloody hell and have a cup of tea (because the mandalorian is a british caricature, apparently??)

he'll take his helmet off and move it aside and just hold yours hands

"why are you letting yourself go for me?"

and you can argue it's because you care about him and the kid but he won't let it be to the extent that it's to your own detriment

"relax for a while, cyar'ika. the ship won't fall apart if you sit down for five minutes."

you look after din. you look after the kid. but sometimes din has to look after you.

okay...he's always looking after you in his own way but every so often, he kinda saves you from yourself

he'll just sit there and hold u for a while. can't be running round like a crazy person if there's an even crazier one restraining you right??

#asks #din djarin x reader #din djarin imagines #din djarin imagine #din djarin reader insert #din djarin fluff #mandalorian x reader #mandalorian imagines #mandalorian reader insert #mandalorian fluff #star wars fluff #star wars reader insert #star wars imagines

[karura]

heya maay!! idk if you're still doing it but here goes!! dabi, miyamura aaaand obanai? 😏😏 hehe love you bby! *hugs* hope you are well <33333333~~

omg YES NOW WE'RE TALKING KAHGAKS i can always count on you ana akjghsjkgha

well miyamura is too young for me, so can i like pick him as son???e he'll go on best friend? is too weird tho ajkgshagjh

touya is def husband, no discussion here!! loml!!!

so obanai, babe, youre one night stand kagjhsjg

thank u sm for sending it!! i loved it kajgh

lets play “husband, one night stand, best friend”

#ana 💕 #answered #ask game

[what-if-nct]

Okay, hierarchy noted. Also I’m so tired today that my brain read Hendery = Friend as Friendery. And just because I want to share, these are mine. Changbin=my man, LOML (non-parental), Chan=my husband, my son’s father, Johnny=my homewrecker, my boyfriend, Han=my son, loml (parental), Jaehyun=my high school crush, Doyoung, Jeno=my parental boyfriend (the one that you bring home to them to pretend you’re in a Serious Adult Relationship but really you’re just occasionally having dirty nasty sex with), Yuta=my sneaky link. Honorable mention to Kim Namjoon as my daddy. 🐖🐇

Yes, friendery with benefits. Yes you understand the difference between love of my life and husband and father of your children. There is a difference. Both very important. Johnny just wrecking homes, a harlot. A little hussy. Aww baby han. High school crush makes so much sense for his overall energy. Gentlemen at family dinner freaks in the sheets. Sneaky link is just yuta. You only see him at 2am when you're saying you have to get something from the 24hr Walmart. Daddy Namjoon? Wow you have the daddy trifecta in your harem.

[binch-i-might-be]

Waltzes in

I AM DONE WITH MY LAST TWO EXAMS PREP LET'S GO GAYS LET'S GOOOO

it's like 11 pm and I am tired but let's gooo I am so excited

gonna but my On Repeat Spotify playlist okay okay

the first song is literally helpless and Eliza is not having a good time in here I-

lmao, the poor American government dealing with THIS? oh nooo

Neither of them had any desire to wake them, even though it was almost ten AM and all three of the kids rarely ever slept past nine.

And then there is me who could sleep for 12-14 hours uninterrupted through an earthquake. 9am? The fuck?

ah yes hello Eliza...this is normal this is fine

Love how Eliza is like a tiny addition to the Washington family

AYY THIS IS THE SNIPPET YOU POSTED!

Young girls couldn’t be careful enough these days.

If this ain't the most accurate shit I have ever read. Need me some steel-capped boots.

I feel bad for Eliza :(

ah yes...inviting your son's ex who he dumped for a man he was in love with in a previous life for coffee...normal behaviour. very normal.

Jack had always called it his ‘dad voice’, but… he wasn’t so sure that was what it was, not anymore. Not after Alex had snapped to attention every single time he’d used it during the past day.

No, he was beginning to suspect it was more of a ‘military commander voice’ than anything else.

NOW WHY DID THIS MAKE ME ACTUALLY STOP AND STARE I AM SAD

This isn't right...they don't deserve this.

George has their coffee preferences memorized...NEED ME SOMETHING LIKE THAT PLEASE AND THANK YOU

I know nothing about Philip Schuyler is there a particular reason he's struggling so much?

omg yeah...the therapist waiting lists...

People be coming with trauma from 200 years ago I am crying-

“It’s… hard. Getting back to normal will be difficult, but for now, I think it’s enough to hang in there and keep going, right?”

Oh oh, this hit me hard especially after some shit in the past year and ohhh god this.

“You’re right. Maybe we’ll just have to create a new normal.”

Yeah. We'll get there one day. One day.

Oh yeah, the registry and shit. George just be like "So uh I was y'all's first president lmao"

To him, it just sounded like they were fishing for yet another method to prosecute and segregate people.

!!!!! FUCK THE REGISTRY !!!!!! Reminded me too much of how the Cohort had the institute heads register all the downworlders and track them all that shit. (this is from the shadowhunter books)

That power in the wrong hands...fuck I wish they did have a way of proving who is lying and not.

YEAH GEORGE YOU DO YOU LOVE!

Ah yes. They have always been related. Fun right?

JOHN JOHN JOHN LOML JOHN

noo this is breaking me

GOD DO YOU GUYS NOT HAVE SOCIAL MEDIA?? FIND THEM

Being without Alex just left him… empty. Grey. Sunrise wasn’t as beautiful without him by his side, his morning coffee tasted stale on his tongue, his own smile seemed dim to him when he flashed it at himself in the mirror.

oh wow pain wow okay y'know what imma just review literature my heart hurts

OH KID HELLO

Jagger hello!

PROBLEM CHILD AUHISUDHIUIHDVUIHFD

ah yes, major historical moment. noice.

ohhh Jagger is the couple's child who own the cafe.

ANGELICA???? TIS YOU????

LMAO, SHE'S LIKE "fuck the guy" and John's just like "uh..." not knowing the guy is his husband

this is so weird/cool because they are so entangled but they don't know it ahhhhh

aww, he's getting them pastries.

“Pretty homophobic of you to erase my sexuality like that,” he shot back as he set it down.

LMAO I LOVE THEM YOUR HONOUR

JAGGER AND JOHN CONTENT MY BELOVED

you recognize them because you met them 200 years ago :)

YESS HE REMEMBERS THEM!

He wondered if it would feel this odd when he was finally face to face with Alex–because he would find him, without question–but he couldn’t really imagine it. No, finding Alex would be like coming home for the first time, he was sure of it.

My version of the meeting involves a lot of drama and snow and rain. But yes. You will recognize him. I know you will.

JAGGER IS SOMEONE FROM THE 50S AU?? WHOMST??

OF COURSE! JOHN KNOWS HAMILTON WAS WASHINGTON'S SON SO IT MAKES SENSE FOR THEIR REINCARNATED PERSONAS TO KNOW EACH OTHER TOO AND JUST-

AHHHHH

Eliza just met him and oh my god oh my god I am freaking out

John didn’t know why he even asked. He knew everything there was to know about Washington, but… talking about him was almost comforting, in a sense. The man had been more of a father to him back then than Henry Laurens ever had been, and he could admit to himself that he didn’t only miss Alex.

I...Need me some Washingtons with John content please and thank you I miss them.

“Apparently he’s already decided not to get registered and to let the idiots fight over who gets to kin him,”

So sexy of him.

OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD NEED THE GIRLS TO COME BACK PLEASE LEAD JOHN TO ALEX OH MY GOD

I just finished it now I will lie down and think about it for the rest of the night.

LOVED THIS SO FUCKING MUCH YOU HAVE NO IDEA! THIS WAS GREAT YOU'RE GREAT GOOD NIGHT

so you sent this almost a month ago now but ANYWAY LET'S GO ADHJHDKJHAKJD

lmao helpless 😭

yeah <3 they're useless, your honour!

ashfskhdhf they were raised by Gwash, do you truly think he let's those kids sleep past nine am 😭

hiii Eliza :)) completely normal!

you can never have enough steel-capped boots!

yeah she's not having the best time :/

there's a reason it's usually Martha who opens the door okay. George is fucking useless he knows nothing about people he WILL invite his son's very recently broken up with ex in to have coffee!! what is George if not a grown up himbo

AHDKAJDHKJ EXCELLENT THAT WAS THE INTENTION

of course he does!!!! this man lives to make his wife coffee and he's too much of a dad to not immediately memorise Eliza's too <3

oh it's just because Schuyler was also a general! I don't know anything about him either I just thought I would be spicy and give all the soldiers mental illness :]

therapist waiting lists our beloathed! yeah imagine you're just a random guy and some dude comes into your therapy session who has trauma from being like. guillotined in the french revolution 😭

yeahhhh haha unintentional covid parallels go brrr :')

fuck the registry <3333

oh! I didn't read those but we stan the cinematic parallels ;)

mhh they have no way of knowing who's lying except for crossreferencing! you know, finding people who would have known this person and asking them. and hoping these people are. not lying. which they could be!

JOHN HAS ARRIVED!!!

they do have social media, unfortunately it's hard to find someone without knowing their last name :')

yeah haha. pain!

hi Jagger :)) favourite problem child <3

you are the second person who thought this is Angelica but it's Peggy 😭

John is like "uh sure I guess", unaware that he will interpret "fuck that guy" in an entirely different manner!

yes thank you that was why I was so excited about that idea! them being so connected without knowing it :)

JAGGER AND JOHN MY FAVOURITE SURROGATE SIBLING DUO

of course he will recognise Alex <33

AHDGJHD JAGGER IS NO ONE SPECIFIC THEY'RE JUST A LITTLE GUY

yeah!! John's family is the exact same now as they used to be back then, so he has good reason to believe Alex is Washington's son again!

wanting Washington & John content is like searching for water in a desert, it's harrowing and depressing! but I think there will be reincarnation au content with Them :)

they really need to come back I am fucking blue balling myself at this point. just come back and give John Alex's number I am begging you (she said, with no intention to make it happen)

THANK YOU THANK YOU ADKHFKJHAD

#i love you live bloggings i am unfortunately just very bad at answering stuff lately! #but anyway know i absolutely loved this <33 #ask #evie! #reincarnation au #long post

[hyunverse]

no no no you should never feel bad about your writing it is literally so good. one of my fave things about it is the accuracy like you write them all so well that it just hits even harder. so pls do bandaid my heart back bc it is shattered 🙏🏼🙏🏼 you somehow know how to make your angst like … cute too ?? that’s not the right word but YKWIM it’s just everything written is fitting for the situation yk ? i think a better word is satisfying idk 😭

i’m gonna respond to your other post bc it’s easier but i totally agree i do not know who i want or want to be more. femininely masculine is the superior male idc idc idc 🙏🏼 and hyunjin and felix achieve that so well. YES he’s so aphrodites son it’s literally true !!!!! i’m so happy to see them getting the recognition they deserve, it tugs the heart strings </3

ahhh yes that makes sense. in the us it kinda varies ?? like newbury comics will charge 75 bucks for an album but then target will charge like 20 for the same one ??? i understand the bank acc issue mine is like that bc i have no self control when it comes to food <//3 i gawk over a 10 dollar shirt but will gladly spend 25+ on one meal 😁✌🏼 it is bad

OOOO YAYY that’s awesome babes !!! i’m happy for you ^_^ my week was finally going well until thursday </////3 but it is a okay bc it is finally april anddd that means possible skz comeback teasers ?? 😏😏

- 🐈‍⬛ i missed u this week !!! i was happy to read smth of yours today hehe. kisses 💗

hi loml!! today i woke up at around 12, did my laundry while listening to my maneater playlist heheh. hand scrubbing your laundry is sort of nice when you play music. cooked some kimchi ramen too ^__^ what have you been up to

cute angst T__T PLEASE i laughed. thank you for your kind words angel, it means a lot to me that you enjoy my works. i love writing angst, so the fact that you find my angst fics satisfying just... makes my whole month <3 cmere imma give u kith!!

u saying that he's fitting as aphrodite's son is gonna send me into a greek mythology brainrot all over again T__T bcs i will!!! i will not hesitate to assign each one of the members greek mythology tales. i will!! just watch me!!

OHH i get it!!! online shops usually sell albums for around 80 bucks, but bookstores will sell 'em for about 110. tbh i spend sm money on food too </3 just blew off 30 bucks on pizzas yesterday. whatever i crave, i buy. craving for sushi rn oml...

noo what happened on thursday T__T it's always thursdays smh... it's that day when it's like near the weekend but the day is so slow and everything always goes wrong on thursdays. anyway! i'm here if u wanna talk abt it baby!

GODDD ANOTHER POSSIBLE SKZ COMEBACK!!!!! teasers pls i need it... i swear the sound was released just yesterday. wondering just how many bops channie got in the vault 😵‍💫🫣

happy april, my babe! have u watched the recent rachalog? hyune feels soooo boyfriend in it, i can't im ill!!

some minho pics 4u <3 xoxo bae!

#rin's lovemail! #🐈‍⬛ anon 💌

[kurooskorner]

happy mothers day mrs.kuroo <3

#yes your son is the loml! #that man >> #thanks for birthing him‼ #cotsu!

[enluv]

look what boyfie sent me!! #️⃣real not fake news!

#literally the loml istg #this man is so mmmmm #yes thank you to mr and mrs park #your son is a damn DREAM #love him so bad <333 #he posted this knowing i had a bad day #ugh king shit fr fr #love him so bad #look at my boyfriend y'all #his hands...... #that is all. #coco's rich boy [real] !!

[emikadreams]

A gift from above

 Sooo I did something, I saw the amazing fanart by ‪ Madison Schofield of Rhys and Nyx and I knew I had to write this... please be kind with me as I haven't completely edited this but hope you enjoy this 💕

 Rhys held his baby in his chest and cradled him.

It was still very early and Feyre hadn’t risen yet, she was unbearably exhausted from everything that had transpired yesterday and Rhys had half a mind to get back into bed himself but his son-Nyx was in his arms, he still couldn’t believe that they had made it out, that after all the horrible things he had done to ensure the safety of his people and Prythian, the stars listened to his wishes and gave him everything he had ever dreamt off.

                     He looked down at the little bundle of joy that was sleeping in his arms and smiled. Nyx was a carbon copy of Rhys in everything except for his beautiful eyes and full mouth from his mother, according to Rhys, Nyx was perfection personified. 

                      He looked down at his sleeping son and felt a tidal wave of love and affection wash over him. He had once thought that he couldn’t love anything or anyone as much as he loves his mate but the minute he held Nyx in his arms he knew that he would bring down galaxies if it meant that his son would be happy. Son, Nyx was Rhys’s son.

                   Rhys felt tears roll down his cheek as the realisation that he was now a father sunk in and if it weren’t for the babe in his arms his knees would have buckled from the feeling. He had dreamt of being a father but he never would’ve guessed that the dream would be a reality for he truly believed that for all the terrible things he had to do in his life, something as good and pure as a baby would be nothing but a fragment of his imagination.

                   The tears were now falling freely and Rhys was fully sobbing with the intensity of the love that coursed through every cell in his body and he held Nyx tighter and as the sun turned the sky dusky with its rays of hope, Rhys made a promise to his son, 

           “Nyx, I had wished for you before I even knew you, I had wanted to hold you in my arms ever since your mother was pregnant with you and I still cannot believe that you’re here. Son, I promise to always put your needs above mine, I will be the kind of father that I wished I had. I promise to always love you more than my crown, my territory and more than my people. You and your mother are the most important people in my life and I am forever grateful that I have you here with me. Son, I will never let you doubt whether you’re loved, you will never have to know what it is to wish upon the stars when all else seemed lost for as long as I live I swear to uphold this promise with all my power.”

           Rhys gasped as he felt a tattoo take form on his fingers where Nyx had clutched it in his sleep and Rhys’s heart swelled with love as he saw three stars marked on his fingers but immediately checked for any on Nyx and breathed a sigh of relief when he found none, “Thank the cauldron, your mother would kill me if she found out that you already got a tattoo the day after being being born.”

             He laughed finally being able to breathe without worry for the future for everything was perfect at that moment. “Rhys” Feyre called him and he turned to find her rubbing sleep from her eyes and he opened one hand and motioned her to come to him, she took the hand and curled onto his side. Eyeing their son, a smile gracing her face, “He is perfect isn’t he,” Rhys would’ve collapsed at the rightness of it all but managed to not break down as he said with a voice thick with emotion, ” Yes, everything is perfect.”

               Feyre saw his face and smiled, without restraint  and his heart nearly gave out at the sight, “To the people who look up at the stars and wish Rhys”

Rhys smiled back, love shining in his eyes as he repeated the words that were turning point in his life, “To the stars who listen - and the dreams that are answered.” 

He held Feyre closer to his side and his son in his other arms and turned to look at the sun blossom over the horizon.

@story-scribbler @evolving-dreamer @feysand-loml

#feysand #feyre #rhysand #nyx #baby nyx #nyx archeron #acotar #family