Geto Angst - Blog Posts

Not gonna lie I would have slap the shit out of nanami cause how are you going to embarrass me in front of them people (ง'̀-'́)ง(ง'̀-'́)ง

Who is she? PT 3

You can't take it anymore.

ft. Satoru, Suguru, Choso, Nanami, Sukuna, Toji

CW: Angst, men being men, arguments. 🙄

A/N: Hi besties! Hope you enjoy part 3, more to come! Also I'm sorry if someone had already requested to be tagged when I posted this. Unfortunately I won't be taking any more additions to the taglist as it takes a lot of my time to go searching around for people. I'll be keeping the ones already tagged of course! If you had requested before and I skipped you just shoot me a message and I'll add you.

Edit to add another funny ask about this 😂

PT. 2

Tag list:

@v1x3n @haruchiyoreen @riameriash @kitises @collectionofdolls @redmushr0om @satorushousewife @linaaeatsfamilies @soobsdior @sa4vvyyt @heh123321 @iluv-ace @erishishigami @pimento-mori @aphroditesworld15 @lov3vivian @entr4p3 @exquisitenesss @linaaeatsfamilies @ilovegetosuguru @trsh-kitty @yunho-leeknow @peachesvault @herefor-tojis-tits @piggaloaf @boyimjustaloserforyourlove @hoshies1 @maybe-a-bi-witch @dreamingoftomorroww @sleepyoriana @moncher-ire @kuroosluthoe @serendididy @garejuremuzum @tojisrealwifey @prettysleppy325 @d1gital-data @luvsymai @yourname-exee @satorusprites @agustdeeyaa @pandabiene5115 @justbelljust @miscellaneous-misty @sweetlyvibe @namjooningera @sh0ot1ngst4r @hvnnibvni @dazaisfavgf @your-favorite-god @jkrafe @ietss @justonemoresworld @kisswoshita @rawwrrgal @castiel2dope @chckn-pi @rax-writes @astragat @chckn-pi @haloyesme @aneternallyexhaustedpigeon @sataurnv3 @jasminelee324

jobless monday

in which: breakup

cw: semi toxic geto, semi toxic reader on shoko

main masterlist

i wrote shokos weeks ago and just weote getos theyre lowkey kinda similar….. geto pmoed

getos is so bad gah

now that im re reading shokos also bad…. i dont wanna read megumjs

youre joking, right?

in which: you prank them for april fools… hehe

with: toji, shoko, megumi, geto, gojo, yuuji

main masterlist

freaky!yn headcanons

pairing: geto x fem reader

cw: yandereish behavior, emotionally dependent yn, yn is FREAKY! this is not normal behavior

main masterlist

freaky!yn who has never had a stable or healthy relationship, so when she becomes attached to someone like geto, it quickly turns into an unhealthy obsession.

freaky!yn who becomes fixated on him to the point where it clouds her judgment, and she believes that she cannot live without him, even though she has never fully acknowledged how toxic the dynamic is.

freaky!yn who cant stand the idea of geto interacting with anyone else.

freaky!yn who would go to great lengths to sabotage those interactions, whether it is passive aggressively pulling him away or confronting the other party.

freaky!yn who when geto pulls away, often, it leaves her confused and desperate to do anything to get him back.

freaky!yn who craves constant validation from geto, whether it is compliments, physical affection, or simple attention. she thrives off his occasional words of affection, and she uses them as fuel to keep going, even when he withdraws.

freaky!yn who without that validation, she spirals into insecurity and doubts her worth.

freaky!yn who constantly tries to do things to prove herself to him, feeling like she needs to work harder to earn his attention and affection.

freaky!yn whos inexperience makes her vulnerable to manipulation, as she thinks anything he does to her (good or bad) is love or attention.

freaky!yn who doesnt know how relationships should work, and she gets overly excited about every little thing geto does.

freaky!yn who lacks the social skills to know how to properly express affection. often physically clingy.

freaky!yn who will constantly touch geto, trying to initiate affection or just hoping to feel close to him.

freaky!yn who doesnt know how to balance her needs, her actions will come off as desperate at times.

freaky!yn who will go out of her way to make geto happy. if geto were to want something, whether it her time, attention, or even something more physical (never), she would give it to him without hesitation

freaky!yn who has no sense of personal boundaries, as shes learned to put others needs before her own. yn believes that if she gives enough of herself, she will earn his love.

freaky!yn who if she feels like she has failed him in anyway, she will beat herself up over it, thinking its her fault and that she needs to change herself to please him.

freaky!yn who believes she is not good enough for geto and that she will lose him if she doesnt keep trying.

i feel sad

this.. isnt mdni right…

it hypocritical for me to make mdni

i think. its suggestive angst

MASQUERADE 2: Games

Pairing: Geto x Reader

Masquerade | Masquerade 2 | +

Genre: Angst

tags/cw: angst, royal au, forced marriage, cheating, drama, emotional turmoil, power imbalance, manipulation, smut (just a bit)

word count: 5.8k

He can’t even pick a few withering flowers for you.

“The marriage is well. We’ve known each other since we were kids. We’re getting used to everything easily.” You smiled, looking in his eyes as he gazed lovingly at you. You enjoy these little moments with him whenever you go for a walk together. The kingdom's people approach the two of you, asking numerous questions and showering your marriage with compliments that are far from its reality. 

“I can already envision how beautiful the future princes and princesses would be.” An old lady smiled, crinkling the corners of her eyes as Suguru took her hand, giving her support as she bowed to you. Your smile almost faltered, knowing it’d probably never happen. At least, not between the two of you. But surprisingly, he answered for you.

“Let’s hope the kingdom won’t chain us to our thrones too much so that the little ones can come sooner.” The people around you erupted in laughter, unaware that he meant the opposite of his jokes. His hand made its way to your lower back, stepping closer as the royal guards arrived from patrol, smiling, and some blushing at your random public appearance.

“Your Majesty." They bowed to you before turning to Suguru and bowing again, "Your Royal Highness.” Taking a step back, you acknowledged them with a smile. “We can create space for you by the lakes.” One of the guards offered, and your eyes lit up. It’s been a while since you and Suguru spent time together there. Your stared up at him with eagerness, but he was already declining the suggestion, “I’m afraid that we have some things to attend to. We cannot—” Hurt by the blatant rejection, you cut him off.

“I don’t. I would like to spend some time by the lakes today. The weather is nice.” You did your best to hide the dejected look on your face but as his eyes scanned your features, it felt like he was reading you like a book. “Your Majesty, should it please you, I shall accompany you to the lakes and stand guard to ensure your safety.” A blonde guard offered with a smile and a bow to the Prince.

You were about to answer, delighted as you tried to step away from the Prince, but his hand was quick to wrap around your waist. “It’d be a shame not to indulge in such a moment with my Queen. The duties can wait, I suppose.” You can feel his chest against your back as the guard salutes, mounting his horse and waiting for your carriage. You looked at Suguru, but his eyes avoided yours.

“You’re so cautious about how the public will perceive us but would willingly go with a knight to the lakes?” He scoffed once you’re inside the carriage. His tongue poked his cheek as he looked out the window. “I didn’t want to disrupt your priorities.” You know that he’s just going to go back to working on that damn locket for his princess.

“What’s keeping you busy?” You held your skirt as you stepped down the stairs of his workshop. He was shirtless, hair gathered haphazardly with a tie, and looking like this is the first thing he did as soon as he woke up. A pair of soft pants hanging low on his waist. “A gift.” His eyes didn’t even meet yours. You would’ve felt giddy, but you know too well that this one isn’t for you. You stepped closer to him, walking behind him to peek at his shoulder.

It’s a wooden locket. Your eyes glanced at the chain at the side of his crafting table. He was skillfully carving at the surface of the object. You can tell how focused he is from how his brows furrowed, further sharpening his beautiful features. You already know that you don’t want to see what’s inside. 

A letter S and A were creatively entwined, along with some small patterns he carved around. They were small but inside that room, to him, it’s so much bigger than the Queen watching. There were no signs of discomfort in his stance. He was unapologetically etching their initials with his bare hands. It’s sad that you probably will never experience this from him. 

He can’t even pick a few withering flowers for you. 

You rested your chin on your knuckles, gazing at the field of flowers as they sway with the wind. You wished that your life could be as easy as theirs. Three days ago, you had a meeting with the court, discussing the needs of the Kingdom. You were expected to refuse, the members ushering you to focus on building your marriage as it was still young. Yet, knowing of the people's hardships was too heavy on your heart. 

The matter of importing goods from another Kingdom requires attention. Just as much as your wobbling relationship with Suguru. But you can’t stand the fact that other people have been struggling because there’s a shortage of supplies, specifically medicine. “I’ll handle it first, lives may be on the line.” You decided, dropping the idea of pursuing Suguru to stay in your holiday estate near the outskirts and far from the villages.

Suguru knows of it, and although he wouldn’t want to come anyway, he still admires you for putting the mass over your personal goals. It wouldn’t change anything, but he feels bad that you try too hard. In times like this, Suguru’s reminded that you’re still the young, compassionate princess who plays tag even with commoners and bastards of maids. 

—----------------------------

Months have passed, and it seems like no progress will ever be made in your relationship. There are days when you barely see each other due to your responsibilities. He can tell that you want to move on your own and try to be as close as possible to him, but the kingdom is your weakness. If there’s anyone who holds your heart other than Suguru, it would be the citizens. And for that, he can’t help but feel proud of you.

Suguru continued his rendezvous with the Princess, their once budding relationship has now bloomed into a young flower and his heart has never felt more full. 

“I’ll be on my way now,” You barely nodded as he turned around, looking at the floor as he started to walk out of your room. How come he’s only now realized that you stopped making excuses just to delay and maybe even stop his secret trysts with Princess Aika? Not that he minds. If anything, it favors them. 

Their meeting place at the southern district is not a short and easy trip at all. It's a secluded meadow in the woods where her family's rest house was located. It can be quite dangerous at night, but for her, Suguru can't imagine any danger he couldn't face and fend off. For her…

“You're here,” Her soft voice called out to him, stepping out of the house in her cloak and lamp. He jumped from his horse, running to her to envelop her in his strong arms. Kissing her, she places a hand on his chest. His fingers pushed the locks of her auburn hair away from her beautiful face. “Of course, I am. Why wouldn't I be, my Princess?” His words brought redness on her smooth cheeks.

“I just thought …you might've changed your mind.” She murmured, guiding him inside the house. “It's not too late, you can still correct this. We can still —” She took off her cloak, as she walked to the small kitchen, but he pulled her to him before she could even finish her sentence, “I am certain of this. I know what I'm doing.” He breathed on her mouth, pecking her lips. 

“Besides, the Queen knows.” He spoke as she pulled away from him, “She knows, but she doesn't like it. No woman would want their husband seeing someone else. I, myself, wouldn't want it.” She walked to him, she cupped his cheeks. “I don't want you committing sins like this just because of me. We don't have to be sinners just to feel in love.” Her eyes watered, “Betrayal of her equates betrayal to the Crown.” He placed her hands on her waist.

“But loyalty to you means loyalty to my heart. Isn't the heart the most important?” He quoted a line she once said. With that, they kiss and let the winds of the night blow them wherever they want; under the covers, beside each other, as they relish in the warmth of their tired bodies. With hands over his forehead, he wondered:

What could you be doing this late in the night? The maids said you've been sleeping late. He never knows because he never slept beside you. He looks down at Aika, fingers brushing over the skin of her face. He wondered what you looked like, sleeping under the soft light of the candles. 

He closed his eyes, sighing. He just can’t stop thinking about what Aika said earlier. He's still trying to figure out what to do with your marriage because he can't stand things being like this anymore. He doesn't want Aika to feel like she's a crime that is meant to be hidden. She doesn't want her to feel like a ‘sin.’ They're not sinners. They're victims of the crown. Kissing her face, he pulled her naked body close to him.

Suguru doesn't want to hurt you. But that doesn't mean that he can love you, either. 

—----------------------------

“They must continue training, your Majesty. We never know what might come for us.” Grand Officer Nanami spoke as he walked beside you as you watched the young ones train. They reminded you of Suguru, how you’d watch them from the balcony. He would look up and smile shyly at you, but not once messing up their routine. He was dedicated even as a trainee. As young children, you two became inseparable since the day he asked you to play, disregarding your status as a Princess Royal. It didn’t offend you at all. If anything, it only made you feel…normal.

“I know. But that’s all they ever do. Some of them are still kids, let them have their childhood.” You sighed, clasping your hands in front of you. You know Kento’s just thinking of a way to reject your idea politely. You could almost hear him sigh in relief when your husband interjected, suddenly appearing behind the two of you.

“Commander,” Kento saluted before giving space to allow Suguru to walk beside you. His eyes met yours just for a brief moment, and you could almost imagine how they softened for you. You look down, pretending to move your dress out of the way, before it even vanishes, and get replaced by the usual empty stare he gives you. You’re slowly getting used to the nights where he would leave, even when you’re not even in bed yet.

But that doesn’t mean that you’re giving up this relationship with him. No matter how hard it gets for you. 

“I was suggesting the pages could have a bit lighter training schedule than the others.” You shared with him, respecting the fact that he’s still a Commander even if he was already crowned as the Prince Consort. “They’re still young. I don’t want them burning themselves out without enjoying childhood.” You can feel the Prince’s eyes on you, but you dare not look up, afraid that you’ll only be met by a stoic, pretentious gaze.

“I understand, but I’m afraid there’s nothing we can do, this is for discipline.” His voice was softer than you expected it to be. Until Kento started speaking, and you were reminded of the fact that he’s only doing this because you’re in front of people. Kento isn’t unaware of Prince Suguru’s real relationship with you, but the walls have ears and in this training grounds, there are people who are not residents of the palace. 

He simply cannot take that risk if he doesn’t want his beloved Princess to be in danger.

“I was thinking of recommending an extended break period for the kids, Commander.” Kento smiled at you, hoping that you would like the idea. Suguru’s eyes flickered between the both of you, nodding as he pursed his lips for a split second. You can hear him sigh as clicked his tongue, appearing to be thinking of the idea. “I guess we can do that. A little more time for games wouldn’t hurt. As long as they proceed with training right after.” He placed his hand on the small of your back, making you tense up.

A dead giveaway of how foreign yet craved his touch was to you. Your response was just as painful as having to look away whenever he’d arrange flowers for his little love. 

Despite the cruel thoughts in your head, your eyes sparkled with joy, “And perhaps the maids could lend them some boards and toys to play with when they serve the snacks? What do you think? I’ll make sure they collect all of it on time, so none will go unruly.” Suguru's eyes briefly fixed on your lips as he listened, not missing the genuine excitement in your voice. Your compassion with the people is unrivaled yet Suguru can’t help but wish you were this compassionate towards him and Aika too. 

Looking away, the thought of your father’s wishes lingered in his mind. With how considerate you are of people, he can’t help but think of how much these wishes influenced you into forcing a marriage with him. Still, he thinks that you’re a human with your own mind to decide. So he can't find it in him to clear you of the blame for being the reason his Princess has to feel like she was a sin; to be hidden in the middle of the trees where no ball gowns shall flow. 

Her misfortune was a product of your selfishness and no matter how Suguru looks at it, he can’t bring himself to forgive you.

“I can arrange that, your Majesty. I would like to ask for permission to hold a meeting with the maids in charge and the instructors as well.” His thoughts were snapped by the blonde man, obviously swooning at how your face lit up at his statement. You were beaming at Kento, a winning gleam in your eye, as if you were the child benefitting from the plans. Suguru can tell that his fellow knight was amused—or rather captivated— by your reaction, too. Kento took half a step back when their eyes met.

Walking back to your chambers, Suguru was close behind you. You kept quiet, expecting him to walk past you to his own but was surprised when he stayed. You eyed him, cautiously sitting on the bed as he welcomed himself in. He stood by the window, looking outside as if in deep thought. You swallowed thickly, fidgeting with your dress with a deep sigh in an attempt to catch his attention. It was proven effective when he turned to look at you. 

Even in his silhouette, you found love. It’s just…not yours to keep.

“I, uh,” You cleared your throat and licked your lips, "I need to change clothes.” You found it hard to maintain eye contact with him as you leaned on one of the poles of your bed. There was a soft silence after your question, and his eyes were wandering the floors as he was deep in thought. You wanted to repeat yourself and clarify the statement that you’d like one of your ladies-in-waiting to help, but he was already walking towards you.

“Go on,” Your eyes widened as you stared up at him, biting the inside of your cheek that was starting to heat up at his request. What is he thinking?, you thought. You boldly remained quiet, waiting for him to explain his intentions, but it was almost as if he was playing the staring contest with you. His sharp eyes were clearly focused on you even as the light of the skies started to dim and the lights of your candle bathed the room.

“Do you want me to take the dress off too?” There was no glint of mischief in his eyes, no traces of mockery that tell you how dead-serious he was of the situation. But then again, this is Suguru you’re talking about and from all the years you spent together, you already know how hard to read his expressions are. His eyes can either make him look super upset or super amused, even his smile was hard to read, and right now, you don’t know if he just wanted to be helpful or if he was testing you. 

None of the two was proven when he grabbed your arm and spun you around, making you yelp in surprise. The cold tips of his fingers sent shivers down your spine as you felt them graze the skin of your nape, pushing away the stray hairs as he pulled down the back zipper of your dress. “Suguru…” You spoke—or more like breathed—as you felt the pressure on your tailbone, his chest almost pressed against your back, and you could feel his breath on the shell of your ear.

“What? Are you not comfortable with your husband helping you?” He asked. You didn’t miss the slight hint of amusement in his question, but you quickly shake your head, as you tried to gain your composure. As much as possible, you don’t want to seem too hopelessly in love with him for the sake of your position and pride. You want him to know that you love him enough to work hard for this relationship to work, but you don’t want to make it seem like you’ll make a fool of yourself to get his attention. 

Because even if you do, if Aika is in the same room, you know damn well that he wouldn’t even spare a glance at you. 

“Of course not. I simply didn’t want to feel like a bother to you, you seemed to be enjoying the view outside.” You blinked, raising your brows as you turned to him, pushing the dress down to your waist. Your pushed-up breasts were exposed to him, the soft flesh bouncing with your every move, and you gathered all the courage just to watch his eyes shamelessly focus on them. The contours of his face were made sharper by the cast illumination of the candles, and you had to bite your tongue to stop yourself from begging for even just a peck on your lips.

He’s immaculate and if only you could let him know how you’d die to have his love even just for a day, you would. But that’d be dragging your face through the mud. You’re already humiliating yourself enough; forcing yourself on him every day, and when you arranged this marriage. You would have to get cockeyed drunk first before you get on your knees, just for him to touch you like your body’s a fountain of youth.

“Turn around,” He rasped when the cloth fell around your ankles and onto the floor, brows slightly furrowed and jaws clenching now and then. Your eyes were locked on his as he stepped closer to you, as if his previous stance wasn’t dangerous enough. You obliged, turning around as you heard his heavy yet stable breaths in the quiet room. You can almost feel them on your shoulders, making you shudder.

“Do you always wear these things?” The vibration of his deep voice makes you feel like melting into a puddle, just so he can gather you into his arms and pick you up. You shook your head, making sure your voice was steady before answering. “Not really, only when I need to meet a lot of people. Or when I prefer.” You heard him hum, making you slightly turn your head to the side as if you could see how he undoes the undergarment. The feeling of the corset loosening around your waist made you feel like you could easily float on air. Moaning a sigh, you hear Suguru’s breaths pause as he stiffens behind you. 

“Thank you,” You murmured, clutching the garment on your chest as you turned to look up at him, waiting for him to turn around and leave. And although he did turn around, he didn’t leave the room. Instead, he sat down on the foot of your bed, relaxed as he leaned back on his arms. His eyes looked up at you before flickering to your hands, as if expecting you to do something…and he really is expecting. “What?” He raised his brows, lips remaining emotionless.

“You said you’d be changing your clothes.” You didn’t try to hide your perplexity as you stood in front of him. “Yes…” Your mouth didn’t stutter, but your nod definitely did, and you don’t know if you should be embarrassed or act mad right now that he’s being confusing. “I’ll be heading to the changing room,” You were about to excuse yourself to head to the connected room but were once again interrupted by your husband.

“Isn’t that the dress you prepared for dinner?” He gestured to the corner of the room. You recalled how you always had your ladies ready the clothes you chose for the day—a habit from childhood, as you liked to see how they looked on a dummy before deciding. You had never minded this practice until now. Feeling increasingly impatient, you asked Suguru, “Aren’t you going to leave?”

He beckoned you with a nod of his head, a subtle menacing grin was plastered on his lips. “Married couples get naked around each other.” He whispered as you took a step between his legs. It didn’t scare you. In fact, it excited you. After many months of being married, only now has he acknowledged to you that you are married. Feeling his hands on your corset, you let go of it, letting him take off the material and leave you bare in front of him. Your hands reached up to your chest, but his gaze held it off.

His dark eyes looked up at you as if asking for permission. You can feel his hot breath caress the skin of your exposed breasts. You sighed, mouth slightly ajar, making no move to stop him. His mouth went close to your bud, tracing it with his lips with his eyes fluttering close, before cradling it in his mouth. 

Your breathy moans made him put his hand on your waist, snaking it around as he pulled your body closer to him. His mouth relished in the softness and sweetness of the flesh. His other hand was skillfully fondling the other one, kneading it gently as a soft grunt erupted from his throat, inhaling your scent. His tongue was hot on your pebbled flesh, eliciting a whimper from your lips.

“Suguru…” You whined, sighing into his touch and letting your hand caress his hair. You ran your fingers into their soft strands, pushing the shorter ones away from his face. You watched as he stared up at you, eyes glazed with lust and something else that you can’t quite put your finger on, but you know how his touch leaves tingles all over your body.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

With his movements coming to a stop, your breath also hitched, stuck in the back of your throat painfully. Opening your eyes, the growing irritation was prominent in your pupils. You were about to snap and curse at the person on the other side when a hurried voice caused a crease on your forehead. Little did you know that the brewing tender moment with Suguru was about to be trampled on mercilessly by the truth.

“Apologies for coming here for this, my Queen but…” The pause agitated you even further. If it was a message for you, why would they need to apologize? It’s not like they knew they were interrupting something, or do they? It didn’t matter to you. What you wanted was for the matters at hand to be dealt and done with. 

But of course, it wasn’t as simple as that. Why would life have something good in store for an evil queen like you?

“Princess Aika…” You dared not look down, when he tensed up, arms leaving your body as if a force pulled him away. “The Princess of the Southern District has collapsed.” And just like that, Suguru was on his feet, pushing you aside as he scrambled towards the door. His eyes were wide, full of panic and horror as ugly possibilities flashed inside his mind. The earlier intimacy between them seemed completely absent now.

You covered your chest with your hands as you turned around for the fabric on the floor, using it to shield yourself as he flung the door open, revealing his servant, who immediately turned around upon noticing your state. “Get my horse.” He commanded, and your heart shattered at how he asks no questions when it comes to her.

Your soul withered at each hurried step he took away from you, not bothering to look back as he went on to save the love of his life. How come he couldn’t even sit an hour with you when you had to stay in your room all day because you were sick? Yet, here he is, risking it all—his position, his honor, your marriage—for the one who truly owns every beat of his heart. You know that if you try to come and remind him of the people still lingering outside at this time of the night, it’d come off as jealousy, selfishness.

And maybe it was. But was it so wrong that the Queen wanted to save face? To conceal the fact that her husband can leave her naked and alone for another woman? You sighed away the pain, sitting on the edge of the bed, where he sat a few minutes ago, worshiping your body. It seems that was nothing but superficial to him. You know too well that none of those actions can prove someone’s love to another. It was solely physical. 

It could even be related to you needing an heir. It doesn’t have to be from the consort, no. But Suguru knows how much better things can look for him if the heir would be one of his own. Whatever his decision is, you know that Aika will be there to support him, just as how he supports her. 

You’re the only one facing battles alone in this circus of a marriage.

—----------------------------

“What’s going on?” Suguru rushed inside the Princess’ palace, worried as he reminded himself to apologize and formally greet the Duke of the Southern District later, but right now, there’s nothing more important than seeing Aika. Just the mere thought of her fainting from an illness was enough to cause panic in every fiber of his body, fear flowing through his every vein. He's aware of how he left and how he dropped you in the middle of all that, but Suguru has his priorities. 

Realizing what he was doing, it felt like a bucket of ice-cold guilt was dumped on his head, and now everyone can see how badly he was shivering. How can he let that happen when Aika was waiting for him? He remembered how she agreed to him having a child with the Queen for an heir, but he knows how badly it pains her. And just because she agreed, doesn’t mean he’ll just let it happen. He had already crushed her and her dreams for them when he couldn’t do anything about your marriage. He can’t forgive himself if he hurts her again by giving you an heir.

If the Crown must suffer from the complications, then he will let it suffer. 

No duty, no responsibility, no position can justify how he was hurting her from all of this. He promised Aika that one day he’ll figure out the way to their freedom. And although, she was reluctant about this, she was still hopeful. There was a part of her that wanted to talk to you, as a cousin, hoping to put an end to their miseries, even if it meant forfeiting her royal title and being exiled. But Suguru won’t let her sacrifice anymore.

They have already sacrificed enough because of your selfishness.

“Your Royal Highness,” The servant by the door bowed, worry etched across his face. “The Princess is currently being checked by her doctor.” He reported, voice laced with a tone that aims to comfort him and ease his obvious distress. Without waiting for another sentence, he knocked on the door thrice before proceeding to open it. This is his lady, there’s no amount of words that can take alleviate his worries for her. 

As he entered, two servants were tending to the Princess and helping the doctor. They all bowed, promptly pausing their chores as they bowed to him. As one of the servants move out of the way, Suguru can see how pale the Princess was. Her eyes were dull, unlike the last time he saw her. It was as if someone snatched the stars from them and replaced them with this void. 

“Aika,” He breathed, rushing next to her to hold her shaking and cold hands. She looked so fragile in her state, with only the blankets shielding her body. She looked like even the softest breeze can blow her away, and it scared—no, it terrified Suguru. He kneeled down next to her bed, looking at the doctor, who was sat on the other side. 

“What does she need? What can we do?” He didn’t ask first what was going on because all he wanted to do was to pull his Princess out of this misery. Just knowing that she’s suffering like this was enough, he’s ready to do whatever it takes. Seeing the stunned yet accusatory gaze of the doctor, Suguru could only assume that she has not been made aware of the relationship between them. He knows that he’s going to have to settle things with her later after this to make sure that nothing will get leaked to the public. Coming here in their palace at this early hour of the night was a risk already.

“It’s not some disease, Your Royal Highness.” She breathed out, looking down, but Suguru can notice how she nervously swallowed. What dangerous thing could it be that a doctor looked so hesitant to spill it out? “It’s a sceleris.” She looked up at him before her gaze flickered to his and Aika’s linked hands. “The Princess has been cursed.” Suguru throat went dry. It was as if she was telling him that there was nothing easy he could do to make the Princess feel better.

“How…how did you know that?” His brows furrowed, refusing to accept the dire situation he and his love has been put in. “An enchanter has been called and is currently communicating with the Duchess. I’m only here to help lessen the pain that the Princess has been feeling due to the effects, Sir.” With those words, Suguru placed kisses on the Princess’ forehead, ignoring how the doctor flinched and looked away. “I’ll be back, my love.” He whispered, hurrying.

Just as he was about to make a turn to where the Duchess and the enchanter were, he was shocked to see them on their way out of the long corridor. “Your Royal Highness,” They bowed upon seeing him. The Duchess’ face displays a look that didn’t help with Suguru’s trepidation. Something’s not right, he thought. Why does it seem like no one really wants him to know what’s going on yet forced to by his presence?

“Could you please enlighten me? Aika does not seem well.” He needed them to get straight to the point before he explodes. It’s only been a couple of minutes, yet he felt like they already wrapped him with a dark fabric to stop him from finding out. “An enchantress placed a sceleris—a curse on the Princess.” With the confirmation, Suguru can hear the beat of his heart quicken, “W-what could the reason be? Has she offended—” Without waiting for the Prince to finish, the enchanter answered, eyes staring deep into his.

“She knows of your bond and how it cuts the Queen deep. It has been placed as a revenge.” The Duchess began to wept, hands covering her face, and soon enough the Duke was by her side. “My dear, allow me to handle this.” He held her to him, giving a signal for the enchanter to make his exit. 

“Your Highness, as a father, I am determined to secure the life of my daughter, just as you, as her beloved, wish to protect her.” Suguru’s brows knitted together, disquieted at the Duke’s statement and where it might lead. He’s compelled to save the Princess’ life, no matter what it takes but for some reason, her father’s words cause unease in him. “With all due respect, my Prince, I must request you to refrain from having any relationship with my daughter from now on.”

Anything but that.

Suguru can feel the temperature in his body drop at the request, and he was immediately shaking his head. “No, you don’t understand us. We—Aika and I swore to never give up on each other, no matter how hard it gets for us.” He took a step back, firm on his decision to reject the Duke’s demand. “Especially, not at a time like this. Aika needs me—” The Duke interrupted him, looking down as if to show respect despite his insistence.

“The Queen—the Crown needs you, Prince Suguru.” He looked up at him, eyes filled with dread. “And this might just be her first warning to get you back inside the Central Palace.” Suguru was well aware of what he meant by that statement. The hole in his heart was starting to get deeper with every word that comes out of the Duke’s mouth. 

“Our daughter has no chance against the Queen. She has nothing to—” He tried to explain, but Suguru shook his head in disbelief, angered by how everyone seemed to be mere puppets in the palm of your hand: them, him and Aika. “No.” He was dead set on proving them wrong. He was hell-bent on proving you wrong.

“She has me.” Turning on his heel, he headed back to the Central Palace, not bothering to wait for his guards as his mind was filled with red, enraged at how you were manipulating this game. Ever since the beginning, you haven’t been playing fair. You’ve been looking down from the top of that tower with steel cards in your hand, slicing up everyone that gets in your way.

Suguru will prove to you that despite all your scheming, you haven’t won, and you never will.

PREVIOUS | NEXT

betrayal ft. jjk men

part 2!!

synopsis: after leaving you for another woman, they realize they made a mistake and want you back. little do they know, you moved on…with one of their friends/enemies (set a few months after your breakup)

cw: angst, no comfort, swearing, slut shaming, not proofread

a/n: alexa play karma by taylor swift…requests are open :P

part 1

tags: @mel1mak @elevh-blog @forfaehou @valvoria @dazaisfavgf @monokyubey @ironicsss @zeunys @higuchislut @inoluvrr @ayumigotabittoolonely @lady-of-blossoms @imoutofpot @enchantingkitty @virgothesimp @k1ranishf4 @riwliane @whoreforjjkmen @lorain07 @deaf-yuri-lover93 @rainschnael

betrayal ft. jjk men

with special guest…HIGURUMA

based on this ask

cw: ANGST, no comfort, swearing, slight slut shaming, not proofread

a/n: i'll probably do a part 2 where they regret their decision! requests are open : P

part 2

you’re being mean ft. jjk men

part 3 where you break things off with them

cw: angst, no comfort, reader standing on business, swearing, not proofread

a/n: this could be the last part could not be…i’m not sure yet so lmk if you want an additional part! i just wanted to say thank you for all the love shown to this series for far <3 requests are open :P

part 1 part 2

tags: @krispywhisperswhispers @aquamarine001 @american-girl001 @totallygyomeiswife @aikojwhpa

the apparition

synopsis: after suguru’s passing, his presence seemed to linger. you thought you were crazy for thinking he was still hanging around until he appeared in front of you.

cw: mentions of death, depression, su*cidal ideations, longing for death, spiraling of mental health, ANGST, not proofread

word count: 2.8k

a/n: please let me know if i left any warnings out and i will add them! this was inspired by the song above.

You were haunted.

Haunted by him…

It had been months since Suguru passed. Not a day had passed where you didn’t think about him. You wondered if there was anything you could have done to make him stay. You continuously racked your brain trying to find something, but you always came up empty handed. In reality, there was no way anyone could have saved him from the path he chose. 

You didn’t even know why you cared so much. You hadn’t talked in years after he broke your heart by defecting from jujutsu society. But, he was the love of your life after all…maybe that’s why you could never fully let him go. 

He had tried numerous times to reach out to you, but you always ignored him, knowing that no good could come from it. Yet, deep inside, you still longed to feel his touch just one more time. 

“Whatcha thinking about?” Satoru asked, pulling you out of your thoughts.

“Suguru…sometimes it feels like his presence still lingers…” you replied in a quiet voice.

“I know what you mean. Maybe he’s watching over us…whether that be a good or bad thing,” Gojo smirked softly to himself, wrapping his arm around your shoulders giving you a squeeze.

You both stood up and went your separate ways. There was still that feeling you couldn’t shake. It felt like something or someone was watching you…

That feeling remained as you tucked yourself into bed. Your eyes fluttered softly as you began to drift off to sleep.

“Y/N…” a familiar voice called out.

There’s no way…it couldn’t be. Your eyes shot open, looking around your room until your eyes fell on him.

“Suguru…” you muttered in disbelief.

“Long time no see, pretty girl,” he smiled, sitting down on the edge of your bed. 

Rather than feeling frightened, a strange warmth engulfed you as you stared at him. It was undoubted Suguru. His hair fell on his shoulders just as you had remember it. His soft gaze and warm smile unchanged. 

“How are you here? I don’t understand.”

He just chuckled softly like he always used to when you tell him a stupid joke. The chuckle you had been dying to hear since he left. You carefully crawled towards him still not understanding what was going on. You reached out to touch his face. He allowed his head to lean into your touch, allowing you to feel his weight against your hand. 

“I have to go now, pretty,” he sighed, placing his hand on yours.

“Wait! No!” You shouted, but it was no use. He was gone just as fast as he appeared.

You still felt his face against your hand, clutching it closely to your chest. Tears began to fall uncontrollably from your eyes. Your heart felt like it had been ripped out of your chest. You still couldn’t understand what had just happened, but you were consumed by dread like you lost him all over again. 

As you went about your day, you couldn’t stop thinking about your dream or whatever it was. His chuckle echoed in head, forbidding you from focusing on your work. Why did he choose to appear now? Why did he appear at all?

“Wow, you look like shit,” Shoko stated, setting a cup of coffee in front of you.

“Thanks. I couldn’t sleep last night. I had a really weird dream…at least I think it was a dream. I don’t know,” you sighed.

“You don’t know if you had a dream?” She questioned.

“It’s complicated. It felt so real.”

“What was it about?”

“Suguru.”

“That’s nothing new. You think about him all the time.”

“No, this time was different. He visited me last night. I touched him. I heard his voice. He was real, but then he just vanished,” you explained, feeling tears sting your eyes.

“Maybe lack of sleep is getting to you,” Shoko shrugged, not giving your dream much thought.

You wanted to believe her. But, you knew what you saw. Suguru was real even though there was no way to prove it to anyone else. There was just no way he wasn’t. 

Later that night, you laid in bed, wondering if he would appear again. You weren’t sure if you wanted him to or not. The familiarity and warmth you felt when he was around brought you so much comfort, but nothing compared to the immense dread you felt when he left. You cursed him in your thoughts for leaving the first place. You never got to build a family with him like you had always planned. 

That night you tossed and turned until you felt your bed dip behind you. A pair of strong, familiar arms wrapped around you.

“You’re back,” you whisper, not yet turning to look at him.

“Of course, I am, pretty girl. I missed you,” Suguru said softly into your ear.

Your emotions balled up inside of you as tears stung your eyes. You were so angry at him but at the same time you were so happy to feel him again. But, Suguru didn’t have the right to say he missed you. He was the one who left in the first place.

“Then why did you leave?” you sniffed, finally turning on your side to face him.

He gave you sympathetic look, wiping the tears from your cheeks with his thumb. But, he didn’t say anything just yet. You could tell he was trying to find the right words. He knew he had already hurt you enough. He didn’t want to make that mistake again, but he wanted to be honest as well.

“You know, I had to, pretty girl,” he replied, “It’s just as I told Satoru. I was trying create the perfect world. I couldn’t live in a world where we had to put our lives in danger just to protect those who weren’t strong enough to protect themselves. It made me sick.”

“You know what made me sick, Suguru? The love of my life turning into a murderer. You didn’t care about just killing nonsorcerers…you killed countless of our own!” You shouted now with tears freely falling from your eyes.

This was the conversation you never got to have with him. You wanted to hear it from him about why he chose the path he did…about why he chose it over your love.

“I had to do what I had to, my love, please understand that,” he said softly.

“That’s the thing, Suguru. I will never understand why you chose that over us,” you choked out, fully sitting up now.

“I was trying to make the world a better place for us. I just wish you could have realized that.”

“Our love should’ve been enough to make you stay…We never got to start the family we always talked about. All I ever wanted was you…” you cried, breaking down completely.

Suguru quietly made his way to you, crouching down to your level. You looked at him with teary eyes, wondering why he never attempted to make things work and stay with you. He stayed silent for a moment longer before speaking.

“Your love was enough to keep me around for as long as I did. I just couldn’t stand to drag you into a mess that I created,” he said softly.

“You still dragged me into your mess, Suguru! Whether you meant to or not!” You shouted, pushing him back slightly. 

“I understand that now. I am so sorry I left things the way that I did. I’m sorry that I never gave you the closure you deserved. I thought I was protecting you, but I ended up hurting you anyway,” he said now with tears flowing from his own eyes.

You couldn’t help but wipe his tears like he had done for you so many times before. As the silence settled around you, his dark purple eyes gazed into yours. A blush dusted upon your cheeks, remembering how he always used to stare lovingly at you before giving you a kiss. It seemed so silly to cling onto such a small detail, but it was one of your favorite things about him. For a moment, you lost yourself in his eyes before they drifted down to your lips. Suguru slowly leaned towards you until your lips touched. A fire erupted inside you…a fire that you thought had long been extinguished…a fire you never thought you’d feel again. You melted into the kiss, letting him take control. As Suguru deepened the kiss, you crawled into his lap never once breaking away from his lips. It was so natural the way your bodies moved together. His cold hands ran up your shirt, sending a chill down your spine. The coldness of his touch seemed to snap you back to reality.

“What’s wrong, pretty girl?” Suguru looked up at you concerned.

“We can’t do this…you aren’t real,” you whispered.

“Of course, I’m real,” he smiled at you.

“No…I’m gonna open my eyes, and you’re gonna disappear again,” you choked out.

And that’s actually what happened…you snapped your eyes open to find your room completely empty with no trace of Suguru. You pulled your knees to your chest, sobbing uncontrollably. The dread consumed you once again. The pain in your chest almost seemed too much to bare in that moment.

“Why are you never real?” You thought to yourself as you drifted off to sleep. 

Over the next week, Suguru became a part of your nightly routine. You almost expected to see him every night. Each night, the same thing occurred. He would show up and give you comfort before disappearing once again. You knew what to expect, but it somehow became more painful each time he left. It was like he was draining the life from you. You could barely get out of bed because you thought that maybe if you stayed he would come back. Satoru and Shoko grew more and more concerned with your condition, but nothing they did could fill the emptiness you felt without Suguru.

“Y/N, you need to stop this,” Shoko said, sitting beside you in your bed.

“Shoko’s right. This isn’t healthy,” Satoru added.

“I don’t know how to make it stop…I’m not sure I want to,” you replied weakly.

“You haven’t left your bed in almost three days…” Shoko stated.

You could see the worry in both of their faces. They wanted to help you so badly, but they couldn’t help you if you didn’t help yourself first. You knew the longer this situation went on the more it would hurt you and them in the process. You were clinging onto someone who wasn’t real.

“As much as it hurts, you have to let him go,” Satoru said with a sad smile.

He was right, but his words were like knives piercing through your heart. It hurt to hear the truth. You couldn’t live with this delusion anymore. It was either you let him go or you die with him.

As you waited for Suguru to appear, you rehearsed what you were going to say to him in your head. You paced back and forth, wondering if this was really the right thing to do. A part of you wondered if it would be better to just go with him, then to exist in a world without him. You knew the pain of living on with nothing but his memory, and you weren’t sure you wanted to do that anymore.

“Pretty girl,” Suguru said warmly, interrupting your thoughts, “You look upset. What’s wrong?”

“I can’t do this anymore,” you blurted out faster than your brain could comprehend.

“What do you mean?” The hurt in his eyes evident.

“This delusion or dream or whatever this is,” you replied, “It’s beginning to make me feel like I’m crazy or something. I mean I’m seeing my dead boyfriend, talking to him, touching him, kissing him. That’s insane.”

Suguru remained silent. His face was blank with no readable emotion. He just nodded his head and gestured for you to continue as if he knew what was coming.

“Suguru, I love you so much. But, I can’t bare the pain of you leaving anymore. You either have to take me with you or let me go,” you croaked out through your tears.

“You know I can’t take you with me, pretty girl. You have the rest of your life to live. I’m not going to take that away from you,” he sighed.

“What if I wanted to go with you…” you whispered. 

Suguru shook his head. This hurt you, but this conversation hurt him even more. He wanted nothing more but to take you with him.He just couldn’t bring himself to go through with it. You were one of the last good people in the world in his eyes, and you were so young. He couldn’t throw away your potential for his own selfish benefit. 

“It’s not your time yet, love. I’ll leave you with my memory for now,” he smiled.

You felt your heart shatter into a million pieces the moment those words left his mouth. You flung your arms around him, clinging to these final moments with him. He pressed his lips against yours one last time before pulling away.

“Goodbye, pretty girl,” he said with the gentle smile he always had.

“Goodbye, Sugu,” you sniffled.

Months had gone by since you last saw Suguru. The pain got easier to manage as time went on. Shoko and Satoru supported you through the whole thing and reassured you that you had made the right choice. It was better to live without Suguru than waste your life away longing for him. It felt like a dark cloud had lifted from above you. You still thought about Suguru from time to time but not nearly as much as you used to.

You were walking back to your apartment after work. The sky was overcast, and the sound of rain hitting the sidewalk was faint. A ding rang out as a text from Satoru popped up on your phone. It was a selfie of him and Nanami with the new student they had started training. Satoru and the student were making silly faces while Nanami look as serious as ever. You giggled to yourself before hearting the image. As you looked up from your phone, you couldn’t help but notice a man walking in front of you. His long black hair was tied perfectly in a bun. The way he walked seemed eerily familiar. Even the way his hoodie drooped from his shoulder was recognizable.

“No…It couldn’t be…There is no way” you thought to yourself.

You caught a glimpse of the man’s face as he crossed the street. His eyes, nose, and mouth were undeniably Suguru’s. You couldn’t believe it. You had never seen him during the day like this. Your pace quicken as you tried to catch up with him.

“Suguru,” you shouted as you closed the distance between the two of you.

He stopped dead in his tracks almost like he was shocked that you saw him. He turned to look at you…his eyes immediately meeting yours.

“It’s really you,” you said in disbelief.

You stepped closer to him, reaching out a hand to touch him. He held your wrist gently as you placed your hand on his heart. As you studied his features, the hole in your chest reopened. All the healing you did was ripped from you as he looked into your eyes. He could see the pain in your face…he never meant for this to happen again.

“You weren’t supposed to see me, pretty girl,” he sighed.

“What do you mean?” You questioned.

“I still watch over you, pretty girl. I couldn’t let you go that easily,” he explained, “I just wanted to see you happy again.”

“I could be happy with you, though! Please, Suguru, just take me with you,” you begged.

He stepped away from you, allowing your hand to fall from his chest. It wasn’t an easy decision for him to make, but he needed to do what was best for you. He couldn’t allow himself to hold you back any longer.

“We will meet again someday, pretty girl,” he said softly.

“No, Sugu, please.”

“This will be the last time you’ll be seeing me for awhile. I love you, pretty girl,” he smiled before walking away slowly vanishing into thin air.

You wanted to run after him, but your feet were cemented to the ground. It wasn’t until after Suguru disappeared that you could move again. You ran in the direction he went, but it was too late. He had let you go for good this time…

🥹

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.

₊˚.༄ episode list: 01. 02. 03. 04. 05. 06. 07. 08. 09. +++

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?”

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