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megumiivs · 5 months ago

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chapter 1: the debutante a bridgerton!au

pairing ⸺ duke!satoru gojo x fem!reader

summary ⸺ dearest gentle reader, a new season is upon us as the ton gets ready for a season filled with drama, heartbreak, and passion. after being crowned diamond of the season, heir to a dukedom mr. satoru gojo⸺only looking to marry just to secure his inheritance⸺has his sights set on you, the easiest (and most obvious) option. later, when you catch his saying unsavory things about you on a terrace when he least suspected it, you swear to never marry gojo. as london's fashionable set goes through yet another wedding season, will there be hope for scandalous gossip, hate, and thinly veiled insults, or will we witness blooming love and passion?

warnings ⸺ nsfw, enemies to lovers, bridgerton au, angst, fluff, eventual smut, jealousy, misogyny, regency era au, gojo being infuriating, reader also being infuriating, both of them are clueless honestly

chapter summary ⸺ you begin to get ready for your presentation for your debut this season, and satoru steels himself to find a wife. you don't get the reception you'd wanted from some, and satoru will soon curse himself for letting his tongue loose (6.3k)

a/n tired of keeping this in the vault lol so I’ll just post it even if my perfectionist tendencies are screaming at me. thank you so much to @/sinn-clair for beta reading and lexi (@/ayyy-pee) for helping me brainstorm 💗

masterlist | next (soon!)

Dearest reader,

Another season comes as the ton descends to London yet again from the countryside. Young ladies and their mamas flock to the modiste in an effort to fluff their feathers to find a match.

The Itadoris are by far one of the most prolific families in the upper echelons of society. The sight of all the children at once⸺Miss Itadori, Lord Choso Itadori, and Mister Yuji Itadori⸺is enough to catch the attention of mamas and young suitors alike. Miss Itadori, making her debut this season, has much to be desired. The debutante is a meek and demure girl, but with many talents indeed. The oldest, Lord Itadori, has a quiet countenance that has ladies and mamas on their toes, counting the days until he finally joins the marriage market. Mister Yuji Itadori is quite the opposite; his physical prowess on horseback riding has had quite a few ladies swooning after.

Furthermore, the heir to the Duke of Gojo is a most interesting character. Although he has not deigned to find a wife during any season yet, This Author has heard whispers that he will be looking for a bride during this one.

Lady Mei Mei can certainly be expected to be on the prowl, waiting to sink her teeth into the wealthiest….

⸻ LADY WHISTLEDOWN’S SOCIETY PAPERS

“Seriously?” Choso scrunched his nose in displeasure. “Why would ladies want someone who’s quiet? I use it to convey my displeasure, not to be charming.”

On the other hand, the other brother relaxed on the opposite couch, proud. “I knew I looked good on horseback,” Yuji remarked smugly. “You and my dear sister are clearly jealous of how appealing my muscles look while I’m grabbing the reins.”

“Those ladies clearly hadn’t seen you drop yourself in dung when you were younger. Or the face you make when you are so oddly concentrated. As if you just stepped into a chamber pot.”

Before Yuji could come up with a snide remark to his older brother, the two heard an incessant pacing leading up to the doors of the drawing room they sat in. The door slammed opened to reveal their mother⸺Lady Itadori⸺with a hand to her face in clear distress.

Choso and Yuji exchanged glances before Choso calmly set down the single-page newspaper he was reading. “What is the matter, mother?”

Lady Itadori moaned and sat down on a chair raggedly. “Your sister is the matter. I fear the queen will have reviewed every person in London before your sister leaves her room.”

Before Choso could get a word in, Yuji suddenly stood up. “This is a serious matter, mother. After all, she should be punctual to her debut. I will go fetch her.”

“Wait, Yuji!” Choso and Lady Itadori followed Yuji to the grand staircase of the Itadori manor. Hurriedly, they reached the foot of the stairs to see Yuji tilting his head back to take a deep breath.

“SISTER!” Yuji had his palms up to his face, as if to amplify his already booming scream. “YOU! MUST! MAKE! HASTE!” After the quite of bit noise he'd made, he cleared his throat, looking to the side to see his dumbfounded mother and brother, and shrugged. “Well, someone’s got to the job.”

Then, the brothers and their mother look up to see a peek of white and a “Miss, be careful with the hem!” You, at the top of the staircase, grab the front of your ivory dress, with your maids helping you with the train, as you start stepping down the staircase with an irritated frown. “Must you always be such a nuisance, brother?” Traversing down the stairs until your family members were visible, all you saw were dumbfounded and tense expressions. After enduring hours of painting your face and dealing with your maid Nobara’s fussing over your coiffure, you wished for a more fond reaction. Annoyed, you stomped your way past them to the exit, where the carriage was waiting for you four.

“Dear!” your mother exclaimed, rushing to your side and taking your hand as you reached the door. Her eyes, filled with concern, met yours as she nervously asked, “How are you feeling? I know this is a momentous day for you, but remember, you’ve always excelled in your lessons. It’s only natural that you’ll win the queen’s approval, dear.”

“Yes, Mother, of course,” you sighed. “It is just such a hectic day.”

“But you shall dazzle them.” Choso comes behind you, patting your back gently in his reassuring, elderly brother ways. With a proud smile, he says, “The gentlemen are not prepared for your entrance this season.”

“Indeed! They will be none the wiser to your snark, sister.” You see Yuji coming up on your other side, offering his elbow. You tentatively take it, eyeing him sourly as he continues, “I am simply elated that Mama’s attention will be on you, rather me.”

You reach to smack him on the head, eliciting an "Ow!" from Yuji just as your mother approaches next to him, frowning. "Of course, Yuji. But it won’t be long before I have to chase after you for your tutor’s complaints about your lack of proficiency⸺"

Yuji interjects hastily. "Well! Would you look at the time? The Queen is waiting!"

"I'm surprised the gossip pamphlet didn't mention how much of a rake you are," Lord Geto mused, taking a sip of brandy. At his right, Duke Nanami was stoic as always, focusing on the tastes the gin was bringing to his mouth rather than the two older men beside him.

"I'm severely offended you would even imply such a thing," Mister Satoru Gojo put a hand on his chest, feigning offense. Rather than a gin in his hand, Satoru preferred drinking water lest his mouth spilled something even more notorious than his signature calculative icy blue eyes.

He continued. "Honestly, I don't understand this whole Whistledown business. Some might even say the ton holds her words more in regards than the Holy Bible!"

"You're diverting the matter at hand, Gojo," Nanami took his tired eyes off of his drink to look at Satoru. "As the heir and first son, have your parents not urged you to cease your foolishness? There is a limit to the rakish behavior one can exhibit in your position.”

"Yes," Satoru sighed, "They have. That's precisely why I'm looking for a bride."

There was a silence in which Satoru looked up from his glass to see Kento and Suguru’s mouths agape. "What?"

Suguru leaned closer to Satoru, as if to inspect his countenance unsure if he was jesting or not. "So, is it actually true? You're going to get tied down?"

Nanami wrinkled his nose in disapproval. "Must you say it like that? Marriage isn't imprisonment, you know."

Gojo sighed. "Nanami, Nanami. It's clear that one year that separates us in age has also left a gap in experience." Nanami felt a vein pop as Satoru irritatedly continued in his know-it-all voice. "Marriage is an end. The dead end, in fact. It is when you are abroad in Paris, basking in all the fine entertainment and wooing ladies until you realize you are out of funds. Out of money. Marriage is coming home not to go out and drink, but to a wife that has endless needs of you and children that will have frustrating phases of life. An end to pleasure and an end of all jest."

Kento and Suguru exchanged a glance before Suguru asked, "So why are you looking for a wife?"

Satoru looked dejectedly at them, crossing his arms. "My parents insisted. Said they would freeze my funds and kick me out if I didn't get serious about my future." He continued on his desperate rambling, leaning back in his chair. "I don't understand. Must I have a wife to "get serious" in life? I’m serious about all the fucking mergers and dubious finances my father invests in! Look how well I managed his bets!"

"You know, Satoru, your outlook on marriage is awfully pessimistic," Suguru put down his glass to lean back as well, crossing his arms in seriousness. "Don't you wish for a love match?"

"That sounds ridiculous. Love matches are just a passing fancy young ladies have when reading their ridiculous romance novels."

"Well, of course you think that." Kento deadpanned. "No respectable lady in their right mind would fall for you and your attitude."

"Nanami, you wound me."

Suguru glanced at Satoru with concern. "My dear friend, you are making this harder for yourself than it ought to be."

Satoru groaned. "I came here for jest, not to receive words of so-called wisdom. I assure you both, all is well." He looked at both of his friends. "I do not need to be assured. I simply am looking for a woman fine enough to be my wife to appease my parents and their concerns of continuing on the line and handling the dukedom but for a woman so reserved that she'd respect my wishes and isn't so miserable. Or needy." Satoru shrugged. "I would believe these to be respectable requirements for a wife."

Suguru looked at him with mild displeasure. "It sounds like you are looking for a horse to ride, not a woman you would spend the rest of your life with."

Standing up, Satoru moved behind Kento and Suguru to give them a hearty slap on the back. "Trust me, my dear, dear friends. I will find what I am looking for and drink myself silly for the rest of my life!"

"You don't drink." Kento sighed.

"Never mind, you! Sir, more drinks!" Satoru grinned. "Here's to the bachelor life!"

The three men raised their glasses for the toast. Yet, only one of them contained thin water.

You restlessly arranged the feathers in your coiffure and adjusted the fabric essentially squeezing the breath out of your lungs to accentuate your bust. The palace waiting room was stuffy as ever as debutantes and their mamas fluttered across the room in an effort to catch the smallest of flaws on their person.

Before the Queen did, that is.

"Your feathers are fine, dear. Take deep breaths for me." Your mother raised her hands, prompting you to take a breath in and out as her hands lowered.

You gave her your practiced smile and curtsy to which your mother laid a hand on the small of your back in both approval and reassurance. With the other, she grabbed your own and rubbed comforting circles in the junction of your index finger and your thumb. "You have always excelled in your lessons, my dear. I could not be prouder of the woman you are becoming." She sniffed, and you smiled in appreciation. "The Queen will love you, I am sure of it."

You laughed. "Mama, that is what all these ladies think."

“But none of these ladies have poured in the determination you have, my dear.” Your mother holds your head gently by the cheeks. “Your character and proficiency⸺I am sure the Queen will see the promising young lady that I am proud to call my daughter.”

You felt a lump in your throat. While you appreciated your mother’s words, you could not help but think of the significance of this day. You almost felt dizzy thinking about messing up in front of the Queen; if you didn't find a suitable match as a result, what would become of you?

Suddenly, there was some fanfare from the main room. "Now, presenting Miss Itadori and the Right Honourable Lady Itadori." Your heart jumped out of your throat as you heard the call for you and your mother to walk up.

"Let's go, my dear." With a fond kiss to your temple, your mother led you by the hand to the center of the tall and ornate doors that opened to reveal the Queen and her audience. You couldn't help but notice that your mother's hand held a reassuring, yet tight vice.

When the doors opened, your vision blurred. Your heartbeat got faster, and all you could register was the stares. What felt like a million pairs of eyes blinking upon you, scanning your coiffure, garments, and carefully painted face. While the gossiping widows and mamas whispered amongst themselves, some gentlemen scanned you up and down in clear assessment of your constitution. A distinct smell of tobacco and vanilla wafted through the air, and you took an imperceptible breath in as you steeled yourself before putting your practiced, signature smile.

A memory from your childhood flashed before you.

"She is excelling in her studies," your tutor had said, discussing your performance with your mother in the drawing room. You, sitting beside them, had fidgeted nervously with your small hands clasped in your lap, sitting as straight as you could manage.

"What must she do to improve?" your mother inquired, her eyes sharp with concern.

"Madame," your tutor had said, turning his gaze towards you with a knowing look. "Your daughter is quite nearly flawless. She is of my most exceptional students; her obedience and composure are unparalleled, even at such a tender age." He then fixed his eyes back on your mother with an authoritative intensity. "But there is one element that will truly distinguish her as a diamond."

Your mother had leaned forward, abandoning her tea in anticipation. "What is it?"

"Her smile."

As you flash your smile to the room, you could feel the people in the room going silent. Your smile was what helped you focus and keep your eyes on the prize: impressing the queen. Smiling in the most innocent and demure way you could possibly muster, you straighten your posture as you advance towards the queen, your eyes serene and your expression a masterful display of delicate charm.

The stares of the ton were on your back, but all you focused on was the harmony of your countenance. Chin up, you reminded yourself. Everyone in this room is my prey, and I am the predator.

When you and your mother reached the foot of the Queen's throne, you dipped into the deepest curtsy you had to offer, keeping your eyes on the ground as you minimized your smile to a more polite and respectful one. You stayed there for as long as the Queen was silent.

Then, a rustling of fabric as the room silently gasped. The Queen was stepping towards you, and you felt a gloved hand take your chin. Not daring to breathe or rise from your genuflection by even an inch, you forced your body to stay in position as your face was raised to look at the Queen’s.

Her booming, yet regal, voice echoed throughout the room. “You, my dear. Perfect.” She then addressed the room. “I have found my diamond!”

The declaration sent a wave of murmurs through the gathered crowd. You could feel hundreds of eyes on you as you slowly rose from your curtsy, your heart pounding in your chest. Your eyes instinctively sought your mother’s, who looked at you with pride and a hint of warning.

“Keep smiling, my dear,” she whispers into your ear. “They are staring now, more than ever.”

Your mother was right, upon reflection. There were eyes observing you far more diligently than they had before. In particular, a pair of icy and brilliant blue ones.

“Choso, not today.” Your mother sighed. “I am not ignorant of your overprotective tendencies, especially towards your younger sister and brother.”

Choso was fully frowning in displeasure, arms crossed as he observed your mother, Yuji, and yourself board the carriage. “Mother. Sister is the diamond of the season. The men will be after her like hungry vultures!”

“Well, vultures have a tendency to eat freshly decayed carrion. When you get rid of those dark circles and don’t look like dead meat, you can join us.”

Choso protested further, stopping the doorman from closing the carriage door. “But, Mother⸺”

“Yuji, close the door. Your brother will join us when learns to get sleep and not work on those ledgers overnight.” As per your mother’s instructions, Yuji closes the door on him. As the carriage rolls out of your manor and into the London streets, you blow a mocking kiss to your brother, who is now brewing at the doorstep.

“Phew! Good riddance,” Your mother fanned herself. “I need this night with you, alone. God knows how many suitors will be warded off with that horrid glare of his.”

You laughed softly, leaning back against the plush cushions of the carriage. “I suppose it’s a small price to pay for a bit of peace.”

You and your mother were wrong; your brother should have been there.

Upon your arrival, you were followed by stares, whispers, and men. Bachelors appeared in droves, eager to engage in conversation, each drawn by your newly anointed title as the diamond of the season. After paying your respects to the Queen, you found yourself swept into a whirlwind of attention, each dance and conversation a testament to the allure your status had brought.

As you navigated the crowd with practiced grace, Yuji, ever the observant and cheeky sibling, leaned in close to you and murmured, “I must say, you’ve outdone yourself. They’re practically circling like hawks. Do you think we’ll need to hire a guard just to keep them at bay?”

You gave him a wry smile, barely concealing your exasperation. “Oh, Yuji, you’re so dramatic. They’re just eager to make their introductions.”

Yuji snickered and nodded towards a particularly earnest-looking gentleman who seemed to be making a concerted effort to catch your attention. “Well, if this is what the season looks like, I might have to prepare myself for a front-row seat to a parade of besotted suitors. Just don’t let them all think you’re here to catch them; we wouldn’t want them getting the wrong idea.”

Your mother, overhearing Yuji’s jest, gave a light laugh and shook her head. “Oh, Yuji, you and your theatrics. Just make sure you’re ready to fend off any advances that come your way.”

“What?” You’ve never seen Yuji’s smile drop so fast. As if on cue, there were mamas and maidens closer to Yuji’s age that were approaching, as if a pack, and he looked at you in panic. “Are they coming towards us? Sister, you’ve got to⸺”

“Mister Itadori,” It appeared it was too late. A pack of young ladies were right next to you, fluttering their fans and lashes and giggling. “Whistledown has praised you quite well in this last issue.”

Help, Yuji mouthed, but you merely winked in response. The young ladies had effectively formed a barrier around you, offering a temporary reprieve from the throng of eager suitors. Sensing an opportunity, you decided to seize the moment and discreetly made your way towards the punch table.

The cool, refreshing scent of the punch greeted you as you approached, offering a welcome contrast to the bustling, heated atmosphere of the ballroom. You filled a glass with the fruity, aromatic beverage and took a moment to savor the brief solitude.As soon as you took a deep breath in, savoring your newfound freedom, you felt a presence next to you at the punch table. “Miss Itadori.”

Upon turning, you were met with the infallible smirk of Naoya Zen’in. You had indeed heard⸺and read, in Whistledown⸺that his family adopted nontraditional ways of determining the winner of the family inheritance and leadership. While Lord Zen’in wasn’t guaranteed to be the heir, he definitely was one of the top contenders. You assessed him further, taking in his arrogant demeanor as he reached down to give you a kiss on your hand. Rather wet, you thought in disgust.

But you hid it well, fluttering your lashes up at him. “Mister Zen’in! I am flattered to be acquainted with you today. How do you find today’s ball?”

“Rather well, of course.” He reached to scoop some punch for himself. “I enjoy meeting all the young ladies and dancing with them, of course. Ever in search of my perfect bride.”

You forced an artificial giggle. “Of course. I’m sure all the ladies that have talked to you have been charmed, as am I.”

He swelled, exactly you expected, as you stroked his ego. “But none of these ladies are as valuable as you, my diamond.” To your displeasure, he took a step closer to you, discreetly tracing his finger from your upper arm to where your dance card resided. “May I have your next dance? I have been perfecting my dance skill to the point all my brothers are envious of my prowess!” He barked out a laugh. “In fact, I beat them in horse riding years ago, and…”

While Naoya kept talking, you merely fluttered your fan over your face in mock interest. You were really starting to mourn your short-founded freedom, wanting a respite from the self obsessed young man. For some reason, you could smell the same distinctive perfume of expensive tobacco and painfully sweet vanilla you had smelled in your presentation, like a warning. Realizing you were drifting off into space with the heady fragrance, you made sure to tune into his ramblings once more.

For some reason⸺that you were growing to find uncomfortable⸺he still had his hand on your dance card. You felt the previously faint aroma growing stronger by the second. “Of course, I am soon to be the heir of the Zen’in name⸺”

A flamboyant and mischievous laugh cut through the air. “Naoya, you amuse me.” To your alarm, a young man steps to the right of you. From what you can see on the side of his face, his head sports brilliant white hair and his eyes are focused on the bachelor in front of you, who is now displeased and openly glaring at the man beside you.

“Gojo, I⸺”

“Funny that you talk about the Zen’in inheritance, Naoya.” The man⸺Gojo⸺scratched his chin in faux puzzlement while cockily smiling. “Last time I checked, Naobito was discussing handing it over to Megumi over pall-mall!”

Naoya was clearly growing more and more distressed. “Father wouldn’t dare to hand that child with a whore of a mother⸺”

Gojo clicked his tongue, outwardly showing a nonchalant smile, but you could noticeably see his eyes darken. “That’s no way to talk in front of a lady, Naoya, and certainly not of a mother. Besides, Mister Zen’in, didn’t Megumi save your family from the edge of poverty?”

Naoya’s nostrils flared. Clearly at the end of his wit, he did a small bow towards you as he swiftly exited your proximity. You blinked, partially processing the conversation that happened as well as the fact that you were now alone with this Gojo. Turning, you prepared your signature smile, the act you had been presenting for countless of young bachelors today. However, what made you stop in your tracks was his eyes.

Even the pure Englishmen you had met in London didn’t possess eyes like his. They were intense and vividly blue, flashing with judgment and calculation. His face, though strikingly pretty and slightly more feminine than others, seemed carefully constructed to mask his true thoughts. His white lashes contrasted sharply with his hair as he blinked.

And then it hit you. This was the heir of the Gojo dukedom, Satoru Gojo. Known as a capital R Rake for reasons unknown to you (Nobara just insisted he was), you could see elegance and arrogance exuding off of him, yet another noble with an ego as big as his wallet. You recall, then, what Whistledown had wrote about him⸺that he has never shown interest in marriage before today.

It was only after he blinked once more that you realized he was waiting for some response to an introuction you didn't catch. In a panicked flurry, you curtsied and said, “My apologies, Mister Gojo. I fear I haven’t had the pleasure of making your acquaintance. Miss Itadori, pleased to meet you.”

Gojo’s smile widened, his blue eyes twinkling with an almost imperceptible amusement. “A pleasure indeed, Miss Itadori.” He returned your curtsy with an elegant nod, his voice smooth and teasing. “I must say, you handle yourself with admirable grace amidst such a tumultuous crowd, my diamond.”

“Thank you, Mr. Gojo,” you replied, attempting to regain your composure as you took a sip of your punch. “I do try my best to navigate these social minefields.”

He chuckled softly, the sound light and charming. “Indeed. Though it seems you’ve had quite the evening already, judging by your rapid responses to Lord Zen’in’s advances.”

You raised an eyebrow, trying to draw a hint of a smile on your lips. “It appears you’ve been observing closely. Are you always so keenly aware of your surroundings, Mister Gojo?”

“Only when I find the scene particularly entertaining,” he said, his gaze shifting to watch the guests around the ballroom. “And tonight, the spectacle is quite extraordinary. I must admit, you are a refreshing change from the usual parade of predictable manners.”

“Predictable?” you asked, your curiosity somewhat piqued. “Do you find most of the guests here lacking in originality?”

“Perhaps not lacking, but certainly not as intriguing,” he replied with a playful grin. “Take, for instance, Mister Zen’in. A man of considerable ambition, no doubt, but with a flair for the dramatic that grows tiresome rather quickly.”

You nodded in agreement. “Yes, he certainly has a penchant for self-promotion. But then, one could argue that every gentleman here has his own brand of theatrics.”

“True,” Gojo said, tilting his head slightly. “But what I find most fascinating is how you’ve managed to stand out amidst this display of pomp and circumstance. It’s not every day one encounters someone who seems so effortlessly poised, even in the face of such overt competition.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere, Mister Gojo,” you said with a light laugh. “But I assure you, my composure is a carefully cultivated skill, not merely a natural state.”

“Ah, then I must commend your efforts,” Gojo said, his eyes gleaming. “It is a rare talent to maintain such grace under pressure. If I may be so bold, might I request the honor of a dance with you this evening? I promise to provide a diversion from the usual pretenses.”

You hesitated for a moment, weighing the potential benefits of engaging further with this intriguing man against the immediate demands of the evening. Finally, you offered him a meek smile. "Of course. I shall be delighted to dance this waltz with you."

Pleased, he guided you to the center of the ballroom, your hand elegantly placed in his. You couldn’t help but feel a sense of triumph as you noticed Lady Mei Mei’s envious glances and the heated stares from other young ladies.

Gojo positioned his hand on your waist as you both assumed the proper stance for the dance. “So, how are you enjoying your night? I trust you’re finding pleasure amidst the horde of suitors the Queen has so graciously provided.”

You smiled demurely, carefully maneuvering around him. “Well, my lord, I am very grateful to the Queen for her blessing this season.” You took a delicate step, noting Gojo’s amused smile. “However, it is quite tiring to meet so many people. Repeating my preferences for the countryside or the city can become rather exhausting.”

Gojo’s smile widened as he guided you through a graceful turn. “And which do you prefer?”

“I would argue that the city is preferable when I feel lonely,” you said, gliding with him. “Yet the countryside is ideal for moments of solitude and reflection. Naturally, it also serves as a lovely setting for fond memories with a future husband.”

“What do you enjoy doing in nature?”.

“Embroidering or practicing the pianoforte,” you replied, making sure to display a wistful smile. “There is something particularly enchanting about playing the piano with the door open, letting nature's melody blend with the music.”

“Do you have any other talents or skills?” Gojo inquired as you both continued your dance.

“Yes,” you said, “I am fond of reading and immersing myself in literature. I also have a passion for the arts and languages.”

“Which languages do you speak?” he asked, guiding you through a series of intricate steps.

“I am well-versed in the classics⸺Latin and Greek. I’ve also picked up some French and Spanish, when I was yearning to follow my older brother through Europe for years.”

“What about literature? What do you enjoy reading?” Gojo pressed, his eyes never leaving yours.

Your smile grew slightly strained as you felt the conversation veer towards an uncomfortable territory. You felt as if the duke was interviewing you for review of your admission into an academic institution rather than holding conversation. “I enjoy Byron, sir,” you said carefully.

Gojo hummed in approval. “And here I was, thinking all ladies were engrossed in Whistledown.”

“Ah, well,” you feigned a sigh, your smile tight. “Gossip has its charm for a lady, sometimes.”

“For men, too, I must admit,” Gojo said, tilting his head towards his group of friends. “But I must confess, it is rather unpleasant when the gossip circulates that I am a rake.”

That's because they're true, you whore. "I guess it's up to the smarter individuals in society to discern the truth from the slander."

Gojo’s eyes twinkled with amusement as he guided you through the final steps of the dance. “Indeed, it seems wisdom and discernment are valuable traits in navigating the labyrinth of society’s gossip.”

You nodded. “Quite so. It is the discerning few who see beyond the surface and recognize the true character of a person.”

As the music swelled to its concluding notes, Gojo drew you closer, his gaze fixed on you with a calculative expression. “And what is it that you seek to convey through your own character, Miss Itadori? In a world full of pretense, what do you wish to be known for?”

You maintained your practiced smile. "Mister Gojo, in a world where appearances often speak louder than words, I find it best to embody grace and humility. I hope to be seen as a gentle and devoted companion, one who supports and uplifts those around her.”

Gojo’s smile only sharpened, and you couldn’t help but shake the feeling of somehow being calculated, observed, even hunted as he offered, “A noble aspiration. It is refreshing to encounter someone who values authenticity amidst the artifice.”

As the final strains of the waltz came to an end, Gojo escorted you back to your starting position. He bowed deeply, his eyes never leaving yours. “Thank you for the dance, Miss Itadori. It has been an evening of unexpected delights.”

You curtsied in return, your eyes meeting his with a demure and sincere expression. “The pleasure was mine, my lord. I am honored to have had this opportunity.”

With a final, charming smile, Gojo stepped back, giving you a nod. “Until we meet again, Miss Itadori. Enjoy the rest of your evening.”

After Gojo had taken his leave, you found yourself once again surrounded by a steady stream of suitors eager to engage you in conversation. You indulged a few with polite discourse, your smile unwavering as you navigated the well-trodden paths of societal pleasantries. Despite your best efforts, fatigue began to set in, and you soon reached your limit.

Deciding to take a brief respite, you excused yourself with practiced grace. You made your way discreetly to the veranda, seeking solace and a breath of fresh air away from the relentless din of the ballroom. As you stepped out into the cool night air, the sound of the revelry faded to a distant murmur, replaced by the gentle rustle of leaves and the faint scent of blooming flowers.

With your mind fresh and clear from the suffocating revelry, you couldn't help but reflect back on the night. With the Queen deeming you as the diamond of the season, you knew your mother and Choso had been appeased. Of course, tomorrow was going to be a long morning; judging by the sheer number of young men approaching you today, you knew many of them would be visiting your drawing room to converse with you and gain the approval of your brother.

There were some suitors that stood out. Lord Takuma seemed to take genuine interest in what you had to say, but Mister Fushiguro had both interest and quiet respect that you couldn't help but think was ideal for a marriage. After all, you just wanted a peaceful life after securing yourself and your family. While brief, you had conversed a bit with both Duke Nanami and Lord Geto, but it had been interrupted by some of their friends inviting them onto the terrace. You were sure Naoya wouldn't bother showing his face tomorrow.

That left him. Blue eyes. You couldn't help but think you had heard about him somewhere.

Gojo.

Even though you couldn't recall much other than his rakish tendencies, the future title of Duke was certainly attractive and respectable. He wasn't so bad; with dashing looks, you couldn't help but simply think that a pretty face wouldn't be bad to look at for all those years. You snickered to yourself at your sheer display of vanity in your thoughts.

If you had to think of the most vain reasons to justify your suitors, Mister Gojo would definitely top your list of the most handsome of men. With a sturdy and healthy build, you could notice the years of dedication he must put in to maintain his athleticism. Perhaps archery, you thought. Those shoulders were definitely wide for days. Or maybe horse riding. He definitely seemed to fill in his pants with his thighs.

However, it was impossible to ignore his mischievous nature. You couldn't imagine a man such as the Duke showing any outward display of affection, and all your interactions⸺from him outwitting Naoya, to interviewing you under the pretense of dancing⸺have always had him either besting or calculating the other converser. He definitely had a superiority complex, you rolled your eyes. Clearly, your display of the simple and stupid maiden pleased him. You wondered if he treated all the other ladies with the same level of disrespect and evaluation.

Deciding you were too far into the gardens, you turned the opposite direction to join the revelry once more in fear of attracting strange rumors about your presence in the gardens late at night. As soon as you got closer and closer to the ballroom, you heard voices.

"Ah, but there is the diamond, of course."

You perked up, interested in knowing who was talking about you. The voices seemed to be coming from the entrance between the terrace and the ballroom. "Of course, I understand why the Queen has deemed her so." Crouching, you aimed to discreetly hide behind a large trimmed bush in such a manner that if someone were to be passing by, you wouldn’t appear suspicious.

Another voice chimed in. “She is beautiful. Not in the salacious way Lady Mei Mei is, but in a more authentic and innocent way.”

“I fear the ladies nowadays are salacious⸺hungry for suitors with money and power⸺so it only makes sense that the ladies appear that way. But the diamond; she is different.”

A slap, as if someone was affectionately patted on the back for attention. “Yes, yes. But let the man of the night give us his assessment. After all, he is the one who is here tonight with us, finding a wife, when no one who had ever talked to him would ever think he would be doing such a thing.”

“Well, of course. It wouldn’t take a fool to know that marriage is basically imprisonment.” You could discern the speaker’s wry tone. “The goal here is to appease my parents, and my ticket to that is the diamond.”

“Well, get on with it,” a voice pressed, rather impatiently. “What’s your assessment?”

“A bit simpleminded.” Some feeling struck your lungs, as you recognized that it was Gojo’s voice that was speaking. You swallowed, your heart pounding as you waited for more harsh words to torrent upon you. “Has no opinions of substance that should cause conflict. She’s perfectly fine for a wife. I shall begin courting her and will soon propose⸺"

You didn’t hear the rest because you soon found yourself dashing in the opposite direction, towards an alternate entrance to the ballroom. You couldn’t bear to hear any of the more degrading and embarrassing things Gojo had to say about you as you slowed your pace to a fast walk.

With the main entrance to the ballroom in sight, you thought about the other gentlemen⸺if you could even call them that⸺that must be present, conversing with Gojo. How widespread are these assessments of you? Do all gentlemen think you stupid? However, your thoughts are interrupted when you bump into someone, rather hard.

“Are you alright?”

You look up, putting a hand to your bosom as you try to catch your breath. You see Duke Nanami’s face in close proximity, as he furrows his brow in light worry. You’re clutching your forearms as you are heaving, trying to get oriented. “Yes,” you heave. “Yes, Your Grace.”

Nanami clearly didn’t accept your assurance as he helped you stand to your full height. “Is there anything wrong?”

“No, no, I assure you; I am quite alri⸺”

“Sister! There you are!” Yuji comes up from behind Nanami, and both of you turn to look at him. “I’ve been looking for you! The punch here is terrible, some of the mamas here are horribly intoxicated. Do you know Mei Mei’s mother just admit⸺” he cuts himself off as he observes Nanami, who’s still touching your arms, with wide eyes. “Di⸺Did I interrupt something?”

“NO, you didn’t.” You burst out, not wanting yet another man leaving with an unfavorable expression of you tonight. You and Nanami both take a step back to distance yourselves, and he clears his throat.

“Good night, Miss Itadori. Mister Itadori.” He gives you both curt bows as he makes his way past to his carriage.

Yuji blinks. “Oookay. Anyways. Mei Mei’s mother just barfed on top of Naoya as she was buttering him up. I must admit, Mei Mei and Naoya make a formidable match in being intolera⸺”

You could feel yourself filtering Yuji out as you thought about the gentlemen’s gossip from earlier. While you weren’t exactly surprised that Gojo appraised you as a pawn, you couldn’t help but be a little offended that he could talk behind your back. Who’s to predict the other naive ladies that would be subject to his callous and calculative behavior?

There was only one conclusion to be drawn that you swear to remember for the rest of the season: Gojo was not a man of honor, and you were not going to be one of his victims.

TAGLIST (join it by commenting under this post!):

@ncitygreen @backstagepaige @serinatly100986 @nappingmoon @coochellati

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@byhuenii @geniejunn @a-girl-with-thoughts @dazedin2d @chuuqxs

@megumiivs @anthastudios @arranacosmist @arishaxml @jingyuun

@undercooked-chaos-noodle @jaegersity @camzzn @bluelai @1sweetheart1

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megumiivs · 6 months ago

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𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒅𝒇𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒆𝒓 — 𝒃𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒆 𝒆𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒉

[˚୨୧⋆. 𝒔𝒚𝒑𝒏𝒐𝒔𝒊𝒔] after his wife’s death, you became toji fushiguro’s only reliant shoulder. however, unbeknownst to you, your deceased friend’s ex-husband had ulterior motives in mind when he began to pursue you.

[˚୨୧⋆. 𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆] angst

[˚୨୧⋆. 𝒘𝒄] 2.k

[˚୨୧⋆. 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔] yellow is reader’s pov, blue is toji’s pov. it might sound repetitive and rushed bc i just wanted to get this out of my drafts. i know billie’s song came out like ages ago so it wouldn’t make sense to release this any later than it already is

𓂃 ོ𓂃 Things fall apart, and time breaks your heart. I wasn't there, but I know.

toji always reassured you a million times; he wasn’t heartbroken over his split with his ex-wife, not in the slightest. he rarely opened up about his past, let alone his previous relationships. and yet, deep down, you knew he hadn’t properly processed their rupture.

the most he ever disclosed to you was the fact that there was nothing left to salvage in his old relationship — so he moved on, and so did she.

but was that the entire truth?

you noticed the prolonged glances he would take when opening his wallet. the empty look behind his eyes when he stared down at his naked ring finger. even the faint sniffling at night that he tried convincing you were nothing more than allergies. but you knew he was silently mourning her.

her – the real love of his life.

She was my girl. I showed her the world, but fell out of love and we both let go. ⋆࿐

i made it my life goal to tend to her happiness. the only reason for my very existence was to see that she had everything she could ever want. hell, that’s the only thing i’ve ever been good at.

i never kept anything from her — except my line of work. i couldn’t bring myself to tell her the man she fell in love with was a deadbeat mercenary who bathed in the blood of others for a living. as much as i tried to protect her from that side of my life, she eventually went digging her nose where it wasn’t needed.

the aftermath of her discovering the truth about my hidden agenda came at the price of our relationship.

she couldn’t withstand the constant pain of being by my side any longer, to turn in bed only to see a bastard by her side. she wholeheartedly believed that the man that now stood before her was no longer the one she fell in love with.

somehow i didn’t blame her.

She was cryin’ on my shoulder. All I could do was hold her.

i still remember it so vividly — how her body trembled against mine like a leaf. tears coursed down her cheeks as she clung to me like a lifeline, seeking comfort in the midst of her anguish. as selfish as it may sound, the weight of her sorrow became almost too much to bear.

i couldn't offer excuses or apologies; these were empty gestures that wouldn't alleviate the agony she felt at that moment. instead, i stood there, silently holding her, offering my presence as the only comfort.

the guilt washed over me in waves as i cradled her, feeling her heart shatter a little more with each sob. i knew i was the cause of her pain, yet i couldn’t tell her the whole truth. all i could do was hold her, wishing i could undo the past.

𓂃 ོ𓂃 Only made us closer until July.

the moment he began pursuing you when enough time had gone by, it immediately felt wrong. he was your friend’s ex-husband, after all. toji had never looked at you twice before, and now, he suddenly had lustful eyes for you?

you eventually conceded because you wanted to be there for him, giving him the benefit of the doubt that he had no ulterior motives. but one way or another, every conversation at dinner circled back to her.

“oh she loved mashed potatoes.”

“fun fact, she had a strawberry allergy.”

“did you know this brand of vanilla ice cream was her favorite?”

and as much as it pained you, you became a reliant ear for him — someone who would listen to all the little details he swore he had forgotten the day she divorced him. even if every bone in your body wanted to run in the opposite direction, far, far away from him, you stayed.

maybe all he needs is time, you told yourself.

right?

Now I know that you love me. You don't need to remind me. I should put it all behind me, shouldn't I? ⋆࿐

your affection always remained a constant in my turbulent world, like a gentle rain that falls softly even amidst the storm. but the longer the internal storm went on, the more ravenous the regret and guilt raged on. i found myself unable to fully comprehend the depth of your love for me, but deep down, i knew that your love was unwavering.

i knew that in order to truly move on, i had to let go of the past and embrace the present; you represented that fresh start i so urgently needed. but the thought of her still lingered, a constant reminder of what once was but should no longer be. it was as if i was being consumed by my own memories, unable to break free. as if a part of me still longed for the past.

the weight of my conflicting emotions burdened my every waking moment, leading me to push you away with no explanation. feelings for the both of you coexisted, and i couldn't fully commit to one without betraying the other. every time i looked at you, guilt would wash over me for putting you through this hell.

likewise, every time i looked at her picture, i felt like a traitor for ever moving on as soon as i did.

But I see her in the back of my mind all the time. Just like a fever, like I’m burning alive, like a sign. ⋆࿐

beneath the mask of indifference, i was plagued by shame. it was hard to accept that the girl who once consumed my thoughts was no longer part of my life, and looking at you, i realized that your love knew no bounds; that wasn’t enough for me.

i hadn’t stopped loving her.

it felt like a fever that never broke. an unrelenting heat that burned deep inside me, reminding me of the girl who dwelled in the back of my mind all those years ago.

every word about my past, every little detail about my ex, felt like a confession at church – a church where my sins would be revealed to the world.

talking about my past wouldn’t magically absolve me of my past, now would it? redemption was never an option for me, and i wasn’t asking for it. instead of trying to cleanse myself of my history, i decided to leave it all behind like a forgotten box in an attic.

𓂃 ོ𓂃 Well, good things don't last, and life moves so fast. I'd never ask who was better 'cause she couldn't be more different from me.

he told you to let it go — to let it die like she did that fateful day. it was no use keeping her memory alive, he said, but if that was the case, why did he take her last name months later?

not to mention they spent years together — even conceived a child together; a child he named after her, but that detail never seemed to make its way to you.

everyone told you to stop comparing yourself, but how could you not? she was everything you weren’t even after death: soft spoken, graceful, gentle, patient, loving.

you didn’t dare ask such a redundant question so you didn’t voice it, but your continuous comparison to her was eating you alive; toji noticed it. you hadn’t slept with him in almost a month, internally afraid he’ll blurt out her name instead of yours.

𓂃 ོ𓂃 And I know that you love me. you don't need to remind me.

he went out of his way to send more ‘i love u’ messages than before; they seemed forced, just like your relationship.

she had previously informed you of things that found their way to the most profound recesses of your mind. you didn’t flinch at the time, because you were mesmerized that he did such things for her, but it affected you later on.

you learned bitter truths that made you doubt his love for you. and when you finally realized he didn’t do any of the things she spoke of, it dawned on you; toji didn’t love you.

not like he loved her.

𓂃 ོ𓂃 You say no one knows you so well but every time you touch me, I just wonder how she felt.

you’d stay up late at night countless times wondering what toji’s affectionate touch actually felt like. it was something only she ever knew, and you’d do anything to get a semblance of that feeling.

but it was obvious no one knows the real him — not like she did.

despite everything, you decided to give this relationship one last try by booking a hotel for the both of you. everything inside you screamed that it was a horrible idea, but you did it anyway.

𓂃 ོ𓂃 Valentine's Day, cryin’ in the hotel. I know you didn’t mean to hurt me, so I kept it to myself.

and he finally did it. he mistakenly blurted out her name on the most romantic day of the year.

“i-i’m sorry.” toji rushed to apologize, grabbing a hold of your arm so you wouldn’t walk out the door.

“I wonder, do you see HER in the back of your mind, in my eyes!?” was the only thing you could force yourself to reply in that moment, breaking away from his grip in the process.

“i do,” toji dejectedly admits with a hint of sorrow behind his voice. or was it indignity?

he pauses, absentmindedly digging his nails into the tender flesh of his balled up fist as he grapples with his conscience. all along, he knew the day to finally hold himself accountable would come, but he didn’t think it would’ve been like this.

his mind involuntarily wandered, and in the depths of your gaze, he saw glimpses of his deceased wife — a ghost that lingered in the back of his subconscious even after all this time.

memories of her flood his mind, and for a brief moment, the both of you merge into one — his past and present colliding into one. the familiar shade of your irises, the identical shine behind them, the bright glimmer of light behind them when you smiled — all of it brought a pang of bittersweet nostalgia to him.

silence overtook the room like a storm, and with it, your heart. so he does see a reflection of his dead wife when he stares into your eyes — the eyes he promised captivated him to no bounds.

“was all of it a lie, then?”

“no.”

“how was it not a lie, toji?”

“it wasn’t a lie, doll-“

“don’t call me that.” you interrupt him with words almost sharp enough to cut him, a slight tremble behind your voice.

tears immediately welled up in the delicate corners of your eyes, threatening to spill over at any moment. his expression softened at the sight; however, his reluctance to approach you remained. he knew he was the reason behind your hurt, just like he was the cause of hers all that time ago. history does indeed repeat itself, doesn’t it?

he wished he could find the words that would help ease your pain — the exhaustion and heartache you felt. to take it all away with a mere sentence, that would be quite incredible. but that’s not how life works.

“okay.” he finally whispered, inhaling a deep breath in a mix of defeat and remorse before continuing.“i promise none of it was a lie; i meant every word. i really meant it when i said i adored your eyes…”

he dry swallows a couple of times, as if doing so would suppress the sorrow lodged in his throat. his eyes darted around the room, as to not meet your own out of the unbearable guilt that simply refused to be consumed.

the hesitation behind his subtle actions was a telltale that there was a ‘but’ hidden underneath the surface-level flattery. and with an equal amount of incertitude and delay behind your own words, alongside with a hoarse voice, you brace yourself for the moment he finally admits this so-called love of yours was nothing but an illusion.

“but?”

“…but they’re not her eyes.”

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megumiivs · 6 months ago

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7/4/24 - hakkai shiba

hakkai shiba was a nervous wreck. he could barely sit still as he waited for you to arrive for your date. how did he end up on a date with you anyway? surely you deserved better than a delinquent like him. yuzuha even laughed out loud when hakkai told her that he was going on a date. however, that was probably because hakkai could barely look at any other girls beside her, let alone talk to one. and now all of a sudden he was going on a date.

as you walked into the restaurant, hakkai felt his heart stop. you looked devastingly beautiful in your black dress and gold jewelry. the rest of the world faded away and the only thing he could focus on was you. as you approached the table he was sitting at, he couldn’t help but be transported back to the day you had asked him out.

you had cornered him after school and practically demanded that he go out with you. not that he minded, of course. he had always found you pretty but never had the courage to ask you out. he was the luckiest guy alive. you, the prettiest person at school, had asked him out.

(nothing else becuz i ran out of ideas sry peeps ++ its been sitting in my drafts for 7 months)

#firm believer in pathetic loser hakkai #mans is so underrated #he’s so precious #i want to put him in my pocket and keep him safe there #tokyo revengers #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo revengers fluff #tokyorev fluff #hakkai shiba #tokyo revengers toman #hakkai shiba x reader #hakkai shiba x y/n #˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ lilith’s love

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megumiivs · 6 months ago

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does not responding for a week count as ghosting 😣

#help #why is he not responding #im kinda sad #but at the same time….#do i wanna chase cause thats kinda embarrassing #like i will not give him that ego boost!!

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megumiivs · 7 months ago

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❝DIGIMON—BUT MAKING U CUM IS MY REAL HOBBY!❞

⏯ OTAKU!GOJO X BIMBO!READER

⏭ summary: your best friend gojo is a hopeless otaku virgin with zero rizz that's still obsessed with digimon—despite being a grown ass man. you're a slut who despite her best whoring efforts—can't cum. you'll take his v-card and he'll fix your broken pussy, deal? college au.

⏭ cw: virgin!satoru, gentle sex then rough sex , spanking (ass & pussy), slight sugar daddy/baby dynamic, coercion, dubcon, ecchi/pervy/freak nasty satoru, apprehensive bimbo!reader scared to nut, reader is also a bit of a tsundere brat but this isn't brat taming per se, oral fixation, toe licking, riding, prone bone, missionary, pussy eating, deep-throating, forced gagging, fingering, squirting, edging, olfactophilia, hand-job, protected & unprotected sex, bdsm references, masturbation, bit of somnophilia, pet names: Bunny (reader is called that in lieu of y/n), suggestions of geto x reader, mentions of satosugu and shokohime.

⏭ a/n: in my crack smut bag again cause this white haired demon wont let me rest until i write this nasty shit. fr tho this fic 13.3k and literally 10k of it is Gojo fucking you six ways to sunday. fyi this is the same y/n from nerd!geto but this is a different version of that AU where suguru is the one who has rizz and satoru is the nerd. y'all better read this or i'll never write gojo again istg lmfao. also shoutout to @halosdiary for beta reading and telling me it was good enough to post lol.

“FUCK YEAH, LET’S GO!!! I ALONE AM THE CHAMPION OF THE DIGITAL WORLD!!!”

Startled by Gojo’s sudden outburst—you nearly rolled off the bed.

Thankfully Suguru is sitting next to you and caught you before you fell off completely.

Fully energized by his win Gojo sprang up from his elaborate PC setup, bouncing around the room in celebration. Fist-pumping the air he couldn’t contain his excitement after winning the Tokyo Regional Qualifiers for the Digimon Online TCG.

“Guys, hey guys! See! I told you I’d win! I’m the strongest! The digidestined!”

You and Suguru exchanged exasperated glances before side-eyeing the hell out of Gojo.

This went on for a good 10 minutes so you had since returned to mindlessly scrolling TikTok, not wanting to encourage your grown-ass-almost-22-years-old-best-friend’s excitement over a children’s game.

“You sure showed those middle schoolers, Toru.”

Suguru quips with a smile. He’s clearly being sarcastic but Gojo is unfazed—nothing could damper his mood.

“Damn straight I did!”

Both you and Suguru have to chuckle, rolling your eyes at his childish enthusiasm.

Despite the shared sentiment of annoyance over your best friend’s hobbies, you both were just happy to have Gojo back again. Two long years had passed since his parents made him travel the world on a rotation program, tasked with visiting the various Six-Vision Industries offices he would one day inherit.

Being the nerdy genius he was, Gojo stacked a mass of university level credits in high school. So even with missing the first two years of college he’d still be joining you as a third year at your university come fall.

After being apart for so long it was refreshing to hang out again and kicking it at Gojo’s mansion had been a daily occurrence since the start of the summer. Although things had definitely changed in the two years Gojo had been away there was one thing that certainly hadn’t.

Gojo was still a fucking huge otaku nerd.

You’d thought his time spent in the business world would have matured him. However, being abroad, away from his friends and spending all day around the ‘stinky old fogeys in suits’ as he called them, only made him retreat further into otakudom.

That much was evident as his collection of posters, figures and manga had somehow only seemed to grow even with him away.

“Alright, while I just would love to stick around and hear more about you destroying the dreams of 12 year olds Toru—beach girl just texted me, gotta bounce!”

Suguru tries to leave but Toru clings onto him practically spider monkeying himself onto his back in an effort to get him to stay.

“Sugu! Don’t leave! We’ve already been apart from each other for too long~~”

Sighing, Suguru attempts to pry his incorrigible bestie off of him.

“Satoru, you just spent the last 5 hours playing Digimon acting like me and Bunny weren’t even here. I’m sure if you go back to playing you won't even miss me.”

Gojo continues to pout as he whines for Suguru to stay.

“But I miss you already Sugu!”

Gojo presses his cheek against Suguru’s as Suguru’s eyebrow begins to twitch.

“I know! Invite your date here! Our chef is 10 times better than any restaurant you’d go to and you know we have an infinity pool grotto and onsen!

While the offer was tempting as any potential date would be thoroughly wowed by the decadent splendor that was the Gojo Family Residence—Suguru would also thoroughly cuck himself once his date was given the grand tour.

Particularly the stop which included Gojo’s anime figure and otaku memorabilia rooms.

While a good number of them were harmlessly nerdy shonen or slightly ecchi isekai figures—the rest? Well the rest contained every kind of freak nasty hentai figure you could think of—shibari, futanari and even the classic La Blue Girl tentacle dioramas—it was like a horny museum.

Although at this point it should be considered a horny mausoleum as no woman who walked in would be walking out still in the mood—it was surely a place where horny went to die.

“Uh yeah, sure next time Toru….”

Suguru reaches back to pat Gojo on the head reassuringly.

Lying as he was more than certain there wouldn’t be a next time. There wasn’t even going to be dinner—this was purely a hookup situation.

“...but she’s already waiting for me outside my place—gotta run!”

Realizing Gojo still wasn’t letting go, Suguru sighs realizing this would require him utilizing his Judo training.

In one swift movement, Suguru manages to shoulder-wheel Gojo and toss him onto the other side of his massive bed. The bed rebounds as he lands, slightly lifting you off your belly but you still are more interested in your phone.

This isn’t the first time Suguru has Judo thrown Gojo off of him (likely wouldn’t be the last either).

Saying quick goodbyes before Gojo could recover, Suguru manages to slip away.

“Traitor!!! So much for bros before hoes!”

Utterly dejected, Gojo crawls up next to you on his massive bed.

“At least I still have you here Bunny.”

“Uh, not to pile on but you know I’m only here until Shoko and Utahime text me they are ready to go to the mall, right? I’m in dire need of a new handbag!”

Now clinging on to you Gojo throws another small tantrum as the weight of half his sinewy body presses into your back, his lean muscular arms wrapping around your shoulders.

“Not you too, Bunny puhleeease!”

You’ve known each other since you were in diapers so it wasn’t odd for you, him or Suguru to be found giving the others platonic cuddles like this—often all together too. The both of them were always so much bigger than you so you often enjoyed the comfort and security of always being the filling in the cuddle sandwich.

Gojo rests his chin on your shoulder watching as you continue scrolling TikTok. You sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes before his irritatingly hyperactive nature gets the best of him, and he starts poking around your phone to click on other videos that weren’t the 'mystery and makeup' ones you were watching.

“Toru, you know you could get a lot of your own hoes to hang out with if you weren’t such a huge otaku nerd…”

You had to swat Gojo’s hand away again as he tries to click on another prank video and he rolls off of you with a frustrated sigh.

“...you’re almost as good looking as Suguru…”

Muttering the last part of that under your breath. Arguably Gojo’s features were just as if not more striking than Suguru’s.

He was too hot himself for all of it to go to waste for being such a big dork.

“I’m sure Sugu would be happy to teach you ‘the way of the fuckboy’ if you asked Toru—that is if you’d actually go out clubbing like a normal 21 year old.”

“Why would I do that though? My house is 100 times better than a club!”

Touché.

While no one in your friend group was what someone would consider poor, Gojo’s wealth paled in comparison to anyone else’s and that went without saying. He’d had everything—if not more—than even the nicest tokyo club had. This was all thanks to his parents as socialites in their own right, often entertaining businessmen, dignitaries or foreign representatives with their ultra-exclusive parties.

“Besides, it wouldn't work—”

Gojo continued to pout.

“—Suguru would just get all the hoes anyway.”

Easily able to walk up to even the most standoffish looking women, Suguru would have them reduced to bashful school girls in under 5 minutes. The women were always willing to hand over their numbers or drop any immediate plans to hang out with Suguru instead.

A good number of them had boyfriends already too.

Yet despite having the looks, Gojo opening his mouth ruined any advantage his lustrous blue eyes, exotic snow white hair and sharp handsome features gave him.

“Well, Suguru has a normal 21 year old’s room for starters, Toru. Not full of nerdy ass anime posters and Digimon tournament trophies.”

Gojo goes quiet.

Driven from an early age to fill his head with knowledge of politics, technology, and international business relations, he spent the precious free time he did get with his friends or consumed by his own interests. Interests which just happened to be a bunch of otaku shit—Digimon in particular.

It was an escape he’d cherished as a child and that didn’t change growing into adulthood either, if anything he needed it more now.

When Gojo doesn’t answer you look over to see him actually sulking for real now—face buried in a giant Agumon pillow plushie.

What a crybaby.

But the crybaby was one of your besties so you decided to lighten the mood and tease him a little.

“Ya know Toruuuu….you could just fuck Sugu then. Don’t think I haven’t seen y’all get a lil’ handsy during our cuddles!”

You give him a playful smirk and mime grabby hands at him.

“Oh and you haven’t? Don’t act like you wouldn’t fuck Suguru either!”

No longer appearing mopey, Gojo is up and laughing again. Mission Accomplished.

“Hey! I never said I wouldn’t but this isn’t about me, this is about you finally getting some play!”

You snap back but you’re blushing.

Like damn, who hadn’t thought about fucking Suguru though?

“It's not the same if he makes me bottom! Plus no one thinks I can get pussy!”

Gojo grumbles, hugging his Agumon plushie to his cheek.

You can’t help but notice how cute and baby girl he looks all pouty.

He’d definitely get women lining up around the block of his huge ass mansion if he could at least get to the dating phase without giving out the otaku ick.

“Because you can’t Gojo—Hoes don’t want to fuck guys who play Digimon!”

“But you’re a hoe and you like digimon too!”

Turning to look at him, you’d had half a mind to slap the shit out of Satoru but he had said it so earnestly. There was no sass nor malice behind his words.

Besides, you were a hoe. That wasn’t something you ever denied.

You sigh.

“Yeah I am a hoe now and I—keyword—liked Digimon. But that was back when I was a kid, Toru!”

Gojo scoffs and rolls his eyes.

“Listen, you’re my friend so m’gonna keep it a buck with you—a guy concerned with being digidestined is definitely not pussy destined, you digidork!”

You playfully hit him with the pillow you were laying on, not wanting him to start sulking again.

Finally stimulated by something interesting Gojo wastes no time joining the pillow fight you initiated and you tussle with him on the bed until you both are exhausted and out of breath.

Of course you come out of it victorious though. By the end you’d pinned both the pillows and Toru under you.

Gojo however is back to pouting.

“Ugh, Bunny seriously though—I can’t go into junior year of college as a virgin!”

You smirk at his complaints as the answer is obvious.

“Throw away your figures and digimon cards then.”

“I’d rather die.”

“A virgin? At this rate you will.”

Gojo huffs in defeat as you settle comfortably on top of him this time.

You’re about to reach for your phone again until you see a curious look flash across his face—the kind of look he always had as a kid when he thought of a hair-brain scheme that would lead to getting you all in trouble.

“Toru—what is it? And why do I have the feeling m’not gonna like it?”

You pull away cautiously, but his large hands grip your waist, stopping you and causing you to squeak in surprise.

“Hm, I dunno—was just thinkin’... why don’t you fuck me, Bunny?”

Your deadpan expression has Gojo scrambling, holding you closer in a vice grip when you try to squirm away.

“Hey! Wait, I’m serious! Come on, Bunny! I need the experience and you always tell us about all your hookups! You have the experience—help a guy out!”

Staring at him skeptically you considered.

I mean sure, you always thought Gojo was attractive, more so since he returned this summer nearly a half a foot taller—but he was Gojo Satoru.

Your dorky, goofy, pervy otaku bestie practically since birth!

You couldn’t just go and fuck him could you?

God, you could only imagine the taunts you’d get if word got out. Your friend group would never let you live it down!

“Nah Toru—that would be too weird!”

“Huh, how come? You said I was almost as attractive as Suguru earlier!”

You stiffen.

Fuck, he’d heard that after all.

“Ooo, ooo! Annnnd, you said last week you wanted a sugar daddy… Well, hi! I’m right here!”

The huge grin on his face has you frowning although more so because he was actually making some sense for once. I mean you were half-joking when you said it—well, let’s be honest not really.

However, you mostly said it because while your family was well off enough, you still weren’t living in the lap of luxury by any means like a Gojo clan member. Unfortunately for you though, you were born with the expensive tastes of someone who was. So while you could afford a cute Chanel bag or a MCM wallet here or there, you’d set your sights on something higher—a coveted Hermes Birkin.

Toru certainly could afford to buy you a whole truck load of them with what his family made in less than an hour.

Nevertheless that wasn’t really the issue at hand.

In spite of you being far from a virgin, there was actually a good reason why you wouldn’t be a good choice for Gojo to lose his v-card.

“Er, em—that’s really not the issue, Toru…”

Trailing off you’re the one pouting now as you glance at your nails.

“Then what? Don’t tell me our lil’ Bun Bun is shy now? Over lil’ ol’ me?”

Gojo teases you by sticking out his tongue—chuckling when you snap your head up to glare at him.

“You wish…”

You grumble, chewing your lip now and debating whether or not to tell him the truth while Gojo looks at you with wide and glassy puppy eyes. Shaking your head you come to the conclusion you could trust him with your secret.

He was the virgin otaku after all—he’s the one who should be embarrassed here!

“It’s just that…I–I can’t cum.”

Gojo just blinks at you.

Clearly confused with metaphorical question marks surrounding his head as that's definitely not the answer he was expecting.

“I’ve slept with plenty of guys before but I never had an orgasm. I don't even really get close—I mean, sure, it feels good, I guess—mostly just a little weird. I heard some people just can’t and maybe that's me.”

You shrug, a bit nervous to look Gojo in the eye as you thought he may tease you further about this but was lost in contemplation. Almost as if he was seriously trying to do the biological math around what you’d just told him.

After about a minute more he finally asks—

“—Does Suguru know?”

A simple question, unloaded in tone as Gojo is genuinely curious but it leaves you flustered nonetheless.

“What?! Are you crazy?! Why would I tell him?!”

“Just figured if anyone could then—”

“—Hell no, Toru! Besides, what if he does? I’m not trying to be reduced to a fuckboy’s pick me if he ends up being the only man alive who can give me an orgasm!”

Sure Suguru was hot as fuck—as was a lot of your other fuckboy friends (Toji and Sukuna)—but you definitely didn’t want to end up like the dickmatized girls that would follow them around and literally box each other in the streets over some cock.

You weren’t much of a fighter anyway and your face was far too cute to be getting scratched up.

Pussy should be put on a pedestal, not the other way around. You’d continue to be orgasmless before it came to that.

“Mm, but Shoko and Utahime know?”

You’re blushing more than ever this time.

“Um, yeah—T-They said once I realized all men were worthless to call them and they’d give me multiple of them.”

Gojo snorted at that but he was now convinced you both could help each other.

“So we have no other options—then it's settled!”

In one fluid motion Gojo snatches away the pillows from between you and swaps positions—now with you on the bottom.

“Huh–wait—Toru!?”

Gojo groans.

“Come on, Bunny! I want pussy, you want to cum on top of getting that Bikram bag—

“—Birkin bag.”

You corrected him.

“Yeah that one! So let’s help each other out, eh? PULHEEEASEEE—Just the tip?”

You weren’t at all convinced that Gojo—whose sexual knowledge came purely from JAV, hentai and onaholes—could make you cum.

But then again sure, fuck it, why not?

You were getting bored waiting for Shoko to call you anyway and if Toru was willing to come off a Birkin for a lil’ pussy, you might as well fuck him.

None of the other guys you had fucked even came close to making sex this worth it. Frankly this would be worth it even if you didn’t actually cum.

“Fiiiine Toru, let’s have sex—”

“FUCK YEAH!”

“—BUT we’re laying down some ground rules!”

Sitting up with a straight back, Gojo obediently awaited your orders.

“Anything you want Bunny, name 'em go’on!”

Gojo’s overenthusiasm was like a puppy and you were sure if he had a tail it would be thumping on the bed like crazy now.

You wanted to crack a smile but you know from prior experience that if you give men an inch they will take the whole goddamn mile—and Gojo of all people was no exception—so you are firm as you sit up to look in his eyes and lay down the law.

“First—like you said, just the tip.”

Gojo started to protest but the raise of your eyebrows had him changing his tune immediately.

“Got it! Got it! Just the tip would be amazing Bunny, what else?”

He chided himself and you continued.

“And secondly, just because you bros have no loyalty, it’s still ‘chicks before dicks’ over here. You better get your nut quick cause I’m still leaving to go purse shopping when Shoko and Utahime call me.”

Gojo waves you off with that rule.

“Psh, we should have plenty of time, it's almost 6pm! They’ve probably been too busy bumping their own purses together to go shopping with you for one. You haven’t heard from either of them in hours!”

Fair point—wildly out of pocket, but fair.

Still.

“Bumping Purses!? Really, Toru?”

“You know I’m not lying—but that’s it then, right Bunny?”

Not waiting, Gojo throws his shirt off and starts fumbling with the ties on his sweats before you stop him.

“Nah, Toru, hold your horses! One more rule!”

Freezing mid-action, Gojo's hands are shaking as he expectantly gazes at you, waiting for the last condition before you give him the green light.

“Finally, third—and most fucking importanly—if you make any, and I mean even just ONE—otaku reference, especially Digimon while you’re inside me I’ll snap your lil’ digidick off, understood?”

Gojo swallowed.

Hard terms to live with but something he would be willing to abide by for pussy.

“Yes ma’am! Got it! Just the tip, you will ditch me for the purse bumpers and no Digimon!”

Gojo repeats your rules matter-of-factly.

You roll your eyes but are satisfied enough he understood and you wave him off in the direction of your bag.

“Good. Now, be a good boy and go get a rubber out of my purse.”

Bolting over to your purse Gojo grabs a pack of condoms and is back on the bed in an instant.

Reality sinking in on what you were about to do and who you were about to do it with, you suddenly become hyper aware, appraising Gojo.

You note just how much in the two years since high school he’s grown. Still a bit lanky in areas but overall he filled out more for sure and his muscles were much more defined rippling underneath his skin as he eagerly clambered over you. Gojo still possessed the same piercing sky blue eyes that lit up a room but they looked all too predatorily hungry now that he was hovering over you.

You swallow.

You’d feel almost completely out of control of the situation if it wasn’t also for the bundle of nervous energy radiating off of Gojo—his hands spasming like he might bust his pants the moment he touches you.

You try to maintain your composure, but your jaw drops and your eyes widen in shock when he finally pushes his sweats and boxers down in one swift motion.

Gojo was fucking huge!

“Toru—what the actual fuck?!”

Third leg was a massive understatement.

I mean you didn’t think he’d be small—you’d been around him enough in boxers, sweats, pjs, etc growing up—but you didn’t expect this.

He was definitely a grower and Christ did he just fucking grow!

Gojo looked puzzled until he followed your wide eyed gawking down to his lower half.

Heh.

“Am I the biggest you’ve seen, Bunny?”

Growing prideful Gojo pokes at you a bit and your ogling only grows more incredulous.

You didn't know if he was the girthiest but certainly the longest by far. He’d actually puncture a lung if he stuck that whole monstrous thing in you!

It would literally have to be just the tip and you are thanking God right now that he’d already agreed to those terms. That would be much too uncomfortable to cum from and you are beginning to question how the pornstars manage. This wasn’t a JAV but Gojo, if his company ever went belly up, certainly had a promising career on OnlyFans ahead of him.

Gojo’s chest puffed up ten times more from your staring as he slipped the condom on (which only fit two-thirds of the way down).

“O-Ok, Bunny now you!”

His cock throbbed more violently the longer you looked at him. The anticipation is contagious to say the least and you can't help but feel your chest warm at his eagerness.

Gojo wants to get the attention off of him and you smile at him knowingly.

“You mean you don’t want to take my clothes off yourself?”

The thought never occurred to Gojo but he dumbly nodded. Your yelps echo in the room as his massive hands are on your hips faster than lighting pulling you towards him.

The motion causes your tits to jiggle, the soft mounds moving freely beneath your spaghetti strapped halter and Gojo berates himself on how he only now is noticing you weren’t wearing a bra all this time.

Gojo’s mouth goes dry at your nipples, already peaked and poking through the thin fabric.

Your nipples pucker further when the crisp air of the A/C hits them after Gojo pulls your top overhead and you arch up to assist, not realizing you presented yourself to him like a treat to a dog.

“T-Toru!!!!”

Gojo wraps his strong sturdy arms fully around your body. Pressing his face deep into your chest as his warm wet lips latch onto a nipple. His mouth now suctioned to you, Gojo swirls and flicks his tongue around the hardened bud. Gojo moans around your flesh, pleasantly surprised at how addicting the sweet salty taste of your skin is.

If Gojo wasn’t sure he had an oral fixation before he surely knows now. Zoning out everything else except for the sloppy sounds of him worshiping your breast, he relishes the contrasting textures of his rough tongue suckling the soft skin of your swelling bud.

Gojo surely would have been latched onto you for hours and you are only able to pry his head away when he releases your nipple with a wet pop to take a breath.

“TORU!!!”

You’re panting and red faced as you yank his head back.

But Gojo is a man solely focused—tongue hanging out off his mouth captivated by how cutely your areola puffed as it glistened with his spit and fighting overwhelming desire to get the other one in a similar state.

“Huh–Bunny, b-baby—you taste so good n’ your tiddies are so nice—so fuh-kin’ soft.”

Gojo’s tongue is hanging out of his mouth drooling as he attempts to dive back into your chest. you feel his heavy cock on your thigh as his hips begin to rut against you.

This was too much!

“Stop Toru! You’re being too rough, they are sensitive! Besides, times’ ticking! Remember I have no problem leaving you blue balled if Shoko or Utahime call me!”

You do your best to give him a disapproving look as you blush.

“Awe but you seemed like you were liking it, you were whining loud enough.”

“Shut up n’just get on with it!”

“Yes ma’am~~”

Enjoying your breasts so much Gojo almost forgot he hadn’t even seen your pretty pussy yet.

Making quick work of your shorts, Gojo manages to pull them down just over your core but is stunned once again as he burns the image of the skin-melding fabric of the mesh hot pink g-string covering your cunt. The thin satiny straps dug into your supple hips amplifying your curvaceous form.

Fucking slutty as hell!

Rivaling that of even his most favorite and most scandalous hentai figures.

This was so much better, so much more lewd as the clingy fabric struggles to cover the fat of your plump pussy lips—not like the transparency of them left much to the imagination.

God help him, he just wants to tear them off with his teeth and open mouth swan-dive into your dewy lil’cunt—-pushing his tongue deep into your peachy core tongue fucking orgasm after orgasm out of you until he drowned in your milky nectar—but he has to restrain himself.

You probably wouldn’t like that too much given your reaction earlier and he’d die if you’d happen to just call the whole thing off.

Mouth drying and hands twitching—Gojo is trying so hard to be a good boy and contain his more perverted instincts.

“Earth to Toru! Y-You good?”

Gojo looked like a tightly wound coil ready to pop in every sense of the word and you hated that his nervousness was making you nervous too.

So on edge you almost jumped once his eyes snapped up to meet yours.

“G-Great, Bunny…j-just fine.”

Gojo’s voice falters, becoming more pitchy and you giggle. As much as Gojo wants to look at your pussy as he peels the flimsy moist fabric off of them he couldn’t do that at this moment—he would actually bust his pants.

Instead, Gojo leans in to kiss you, but you block him. He ends up kissing your palm instead.

“Toruuu… that be too weird, we’re friends remember?”

“Yeah friends who are fucking, Bunny! You mean you won’t let my tongue in your mouth but you’re letting my dick inside your pussy?!”

You knew it sounded nonsensical even before he said it back to you. But your heart was pounding so loudly in your ears you could barely hear him anyway.

You didn’t know what you were scared of this time?

You had let all your other previous hookups makeout with you but Gojo was different.

This felt entirely different.

You didn’t know why, you just knew it was and you were apprehensive of the unfamiliar emotions he was stirring in you and this wasn’t supposed to be anything more than an arrangement between friends.

“Don’t you need to warm up tho Bunny? Obviously m’no pro at this—but even I know a little bit more foreplay is usually needed?”

Your heart beats louder at his concern but you push that aside trying to focus on your breaths.

Satoru should have been the easiest lay but for a reason that alludes—you were coming undone before him.

“Shut up Toru and just fuck me! The foreplay stuff doesn't matter, it won't make a difference anyway, m’not gonna cum! Also you’re big af so grab your lube. We're gonna need lots of it!”

Toru pouts but follows your commands without fuss.

Although he’s anxious to get his dick wet he also is still thinking of how he can hold up his end of the bargain other than a stupid purse.

You said he didn’t need to but he wanted to.

The thought of finally losing his v-card excited him but there was something that made his cock throb harder at being the first man to give you an orgasm.

But you don’t want him to touch you beyond what was absolutely necessary, so how was he going to accomplish that exactly?

Gojo was a genius and had the IQ score to prove it, he’d be able to solve the problem once he was inside you, right?

Turning back to face you after retrieving the lube from his nightstand, Toru has to grab the base of his cock this time to keep from prematurely coming in the latex that was already starting to thicken with his precum.

There you were laid out like a slut—panties pulled to the side—fingering yourself a bit to loosen up, having reconsidered his suggestion of foreplay when the twitching on your thigh reminded you of how big he actually was.

“OH SHI—”

You notice his jaw hanging open, utterly entranced as his eyes follow the motions.

You knew you should be letting him do this to get the experience but honestly there was no sense in setting Gojo up for failure—delivering a significant blow to his ego when he inevitably couldn’t make you cum. You didn’t want to damage him even more if he felt it was his fault your pussy was apparently broken, you having tensed up completely every time a guy had tried before.

But you can’t deny you are getting some pleasure—if only through your own amusement—as you grab his cock and pump the lube he poured down his latex covered shaft, still fingering yourself—much to Gojo’s delight and wonder of seeing an actual real pussy up close.

Gojo sucks in air and groans pitifully as your hand spreads the cool gel over his length which only intensifies his ache to be inside of you.

“C’mere, Toru…”

You beckon sweetly, guiding him forward with your back against the pillows, you tease the crown of his tip through your folds preparing him for missionary.

Gojo nearly bites a chunk out of his lip when his thick cockhead finally catches over your slicked entrance and you’re left wincing.

“T-Toru, e-easy—o-ok? Not too deep...”

A breathy confirmation shudders out of Gojo as he’s easing himself into your warm tightening cunt. The stretch is immediate which mentally confirms for you he is also the girthiest you’ve ever had as well.

Your heels dig into his hips to brace yourself while he hovers over you, arms shaking.

“FUUUUUHHHH—”

Even with the rubber on, Gojo still thinks he might melt from how warm and tight you are—so much better than even his onahole with the custom grip and heating features.

Screwing his eyes shut, Gojo has to count backwards from a million, recite Japan’s national anthem, list the GDPs of the top 10 wealthiest countries—anything—or he will cum too soon or worse, crack and drive his hips until he’s all the way to the hilt from the way your dangerous lil’ pussy is sucking him in.

God, it felt like your slutty cunt had a mind of its own calling for him to push in a lil’ deeper, greedily begging for him to go a lil’ further but Gojo resists.

Sweat beads on his brow from the exerted effort of sheer willpower to keep his promise to you.

To Gojo’s credit, he really is doing his best, only a little less than a third but due to his length that's still a lot.

Your eyes wander up to Gojo’s face and away from where he is wholly splitting you open, lest you clench on him even tighter and you knew you needed to relax. Even if you weren't really feeling much but the overwhelming strain from the tight fit, looking at Gojo you were happy that he appeared to be in bliss at least.

His eyes still squeezed shut, mouth hanging open and spittle flowing down his jaw Gojo was in his own world as he continuously babbled nonsense about how perfect your cunt felt around him.

Just the tip in you for all of 20 seconds and already pussy drunk from just this much.

“B-Bunny, Oh SHHIII–B-Bunny—m’cute Bun—FAH-ACK s’gud—m’gonna cum soon UHH–pussy feels s’good—oh-oh my god!”

Although his entire body is quaking with pleasure, the few functional brain cells that survived the fiery blaze of your sinful lil’ pussy are still thinking of you.

Gojo tries to give some attention to your neglected lil’ clit, but a single swipe causes your leg to jerk and you promptly push his hand away again.

“N-NO! Pleaseee, m’too sensitive Toru! J-Just focus on your thrusts! Y-You’re s’close, m’can feel your cock twitching i-i-inside me...”

Gojo wants to challenge you on this—suspecting from the way your cunt felt constricting around him you felt something pleasurable then—but he’s too far gone and much too inexperienced to keep focused on anything else.

Especially when you are so explicitly describing him fucking you.

Grabbing his face you bring your foreheads to touch to help calm him so he’d last a bit longer. Although you still hold his face to prevent him from kissing you, he's close enough that you're sharing the same breath, now looking into each other's eyes.

He struggles to maintain eye contact though before the magnetism of your heated core had them rolling back again.

You're still not close to cumming, yet you are beginning to enjoy the warm comforting feeling of being this full as he holds you close, his short thrusts gaining momentum.

Sharing intimacy with someone you actually cared about for once is really nice and you wouldn't mind having more sex like this even if you couldn't cum.

Thumbing over Gojo’s moist lips you coo sweet praises to him as he desperately moans around your delicate appendage. Suckling your thumb between his lips and nursing on it until he can no longer contain the heavy breaths that overpower him and fan across your face.

Sharing the same exhaled breath is making you light headed and you mewl at the keen sensations it stirs in your pussy that has him full on gasping now. Gojo releases the whiniest moan as he falls into you, unable to support his arms any longer.

Showering your neck with open mouth kisses as his body curls more into yours.

However it all proves far too much when Gojo faltering more in his promise, slips more than halfway into your cunt—instantly filling the latex as it balloons inside of you as you scrape your heels against his back.

SHIIIIIT! He s’big!

Despite nearly splitting your poor pussy into two at the end though, Gojo did such a good job for his first time.

You’d forgive him just this once though as you wrapped your arms around his head, gently petting his undercut. His heaving breaths quiet under your soothing touches, finally ceasing the stream of his spit and tears that had been pooling in your collarbone.

Staying like that for a while holding him while his heartbeat calms to match yours and his length softens inside you. You close your eyes peacefully for a few moments before you hear your phone vibrate next to you.

It's Shoko!

Shoko’s text apologizes for the delays and offers to get dinner instead—promising to go shopping with you and Utahime tomorrow since they got held up and you make plans for dinner in two hours.

Perfect. That gives you plenty of time to clean up and get yourself presentable.

“Did you cum even a lil bit, Bunny?”

Oh sweet baby, if you have to ask…You think to yourself but it's not poor Toru’s fault your pussy is out of order.

“Um, no Toru baby—but you did so well! Ya know you’re actually pretty cute and considerate when you get a little pussy. I’m sure you’ll manage to make any girl you happen to get naked happy!”

Gojo counters you with a disappointed look still panting slightly as he pulls out and rolls over bringing you towards him to cuddle. Allowing him, reasoning that you don’t have to get up right this second.

Yoour back meets his chest and it’s then you notice the condom still inside you. Figures since it was much too small in the first place. Yet you couldn’t complain as it managed to do its job due to Satoru not going all the way in. Breathing out you grimace a bit as you still had to give it a pretty good tug to lodge the filled latex out of your sore cunt.

“Goddamn Toru, you were pretty backed up huh?”

Having witnessed the entire display from over your shoulder and the sight of the light blue rubber covered in your fluids while drooping heavily with his own has Gojo’s dick stirring again as you jiggle the rubber demonstrating its fullness before tossing it into the bin beside his bed.

Conflicted Gojo broods for a while as he hugs you to him.

While his body felt mostly satisfied, seeing you still unsatisfied put a huge damper on his mood.

Sure you had told him you couldn’t come—but would any girl cum without much foreplay or stimulation?

Even the darker hentais and JAVs he’s seen had more foreplay than this!

Hmmm...

Thinking over the experience again in his mind he had a hunch that if right could cure your lack of orgasms but needed you to let him fuck you once more to be sure.

“So you’re gonna hit and quit just like that, Bunny?”

He teases clinging onto you again when you try to maneuver out of his embrace.

“No time for more cuddles Toru—Shoko texted, we’re getting dinner in two hours.”

“Wait! Bunny! That’s so far away—Let me go again, pleeeease!”

Gojo is determined this time to make you cum for real! And, yeah you know—your slick heat sliding up and down his cock again would be a highlight too.

“Toru–”

“—Come on bunny! We solved my problem but we haven't fixed yours, you still haven't cum yet!”

“Toru, I thought we understood we were never going to solve my problem in the first place—so don't stress! Also I know this is probably the first time a girl has said this to you and actually meant it—but it's really not you!”

Gojo puts his negotiation face on.

You wanted to play hardball? Bet.

“I’ll give you my black card for a whole week!”

Gojo turns you around to look him in the eye so you could see how sincere he was, he really wanted to try again—he knew he could make you cum this time!

You sighed.

You couldn't really be mad at him—in fact, it was actually the cutest thing—that he wanted to keep trying for your benefit—but you didn’t see the point when it would just lead to the same result. You don’t even need to glance down to see Gojo’s cock was just as resolute as he’s already recovered and fully bricked—length pulsing against your ass.

Well—given his last performance you were sure he’d last all of five minutes and if you had his black card for a whole week you were about to tear the entire Hermes store up—a Birkin and a Kelly in every color!

Hell, maybe you could even get the coveted baby pink ostrich one.

“Mmm’kay, Toru—black card for a week! No limit!”

“Yup of course! Oooh no—Wait, no rubbers and I'll let you have my new g-wagon too! I hear raw sex is sooo much better you will cum for sure then Bunny!”

Well you knew a good bargain when you heard it.

Throwing the unopened condoms to the side you laid back down.

Imported European cars are stupid expensive to get in Japan and if he was coming off a g-wagon—especially as it was a custom powder blue matte with dune colored seats and shiny platinum rims—then he could have as many two-minute pump sessions as he wanted.

He’d likely pass out from dehydration in less than twenty tops anyway.

“Okay, but same rules as before except no cumming inside Toru! I mean it! It's too much of a mess to clean up after, it’ll be dripping all night especially all that you came last time…”

The thought of your gooey tender cunt weeping his nut for hours has Gojo’s balls tightening in want of making it a reality—but he knew if all went to plan you’d be begging for it!

First—he needed you to take a more active role this time. He saw you settled back onto the pillows and that simply wouldn’t do.

“Um Bunny, can you be on top? I-I’m dying to see what your cute tiddies look like jiggling all crazy like in my face.”

You cover your chest, frowning in offense at his more debauched ecchi preferences but you agreed nonetheless.

Relenting as it’d likely have him cumming sooner and then you could finally get ready to meet the girls—all in your new g-wagon, although you’d definitely have to make up a lie as to how you scammed it out of Gojo.

Gojo takes your place on the pillows, amused as now it’s his turn to beckon you forward. Steeling yourself, you embarked on your climb to mount him. Tall and lean with wisps of hair sticking to his face Gojo looked more like he belonged in a painting, unnerving you that a face only an artist could sculpt admired your body with his lustful gaze.

He was too sexy for his own nerdy ass good like this and you failed not to whimper when his strong hands settled at your waist.

Lube in your hand you smirk, gaining some confidence back when you hear Gojo hiss as the cool gel once again spreads down his fiendish girth that pulses restlessly at your touch. The sensation is all the more agonizing without the latex barrier hindering him as your, your silky smooth palm glided over his bare cock before tugging back the sensitive foreskin covering his crown head.

Licking your lips you almost want to bend down and taste the pre marbling like a pearlescent jewel on his pretty exposed cockhead.

He’d probably cry like a baby if you did, you mused with a grin.

No, good—God girl snap out of it!

You chastise yourself—no, you had to focus and end this quickly before you lost your mind. The idea of fucking Gojo beyond what he could buy for you started to get more appealing and you couldn’t allow that.

Readying yourself to mount him this time you realize your pussy is quivering in anticipation of the stretch—it was uncomfortable last time so—why was your body reacting this way?

Your own pussy betraying you as she seemed to yearn for the opportunity to gobble him up, taking him in with less resistance in spite of you. Flexing around the thick intrusion inside your core you shiver in feeling the curve of every vein on his girthy cock as you lowered yourself onto him..

The way your pussy flexed as a jolt of electricity ran through you scared you—a new sensation bubbling up inside, threatening to make you lose yourself in the feeling. Must be survival instincts you rationed—your cunt scared for its life never having encountered such an acute danger like Gojo��s dick before.

The burn was pleasurable this time, sucking in sharp breaths at every slight movement of him moving inside your core. Yet Gojo is in even more bliss—from the serpentine motion of your hips cascading over his own to how your your puffy pussy lips looked so wonderfully parted, stretched open around his cock—FUCK!

How was he going to complete his plan if his brain just started turning to mush everytime your dangerously succulent cunt grinded against him.

“O–ooo shiiiiiit!”

“Y-You okay, Bunny?”

Although Gojo himself looked like he was in agony his face was reddening from how good your raw gummy walls were surging around his length.

“Hhnng, fine Toru—y’er j-just big.”

Gravity was your natural enemy in this scenario and you took him a bit past halfway this time.

Wanting to distract you, his large hands grope your tits but you knock him away—your stomach fluttering.

“What's wrong, this time?”

“S’N-Nothing, it’s—just put your hands on my hips, it helps me so my legs don't get tired.”

You lied.

Well your legs were quivering but more pressingly your heart started to race and you didn't know if it was because a cock like this could actually relocate your uterus to your lungs or if you’d actually started catching something similar to romantic feelings for Gojo Satoru.

Either one was unacceptable in your book.

“Hurry up and cum, Toru!”

However Gojo is about to say something, your phone rings.

“I-Its Utahime…”

“Don’t answer Bunny! Focus or you’re never going to cum!”

“I can multitask, Toru! Besides, on the small chance I do I know it's definitely going to take longer than the two minutes you lasted before.”

Hushing Gojo’s protests and eyes flaring at him to be silent, you answer the call.

“Bunny!”

“Hime!”

You greeted each other with your usual peppiness—like Gojo wasn’t 6 and a half inches deep with 2 and half more to go—give or take—inside you.

“What’s up? Oh erm, what am I doing—”

A sly and haughty smile plays on his lips and you scowl at him.

“—I’m still at Gojo’s and no—I’m not doing much at all right now! Haha—yeah. I can definitely talk, of course!”

Gojo frowns as his eyes narrow and to placate him you start half heartedly rotating your hips.

You still looked sexy as hell though. Even with less effort expended it was still a workout as shown by the sheen of perspiration glowing off your body. That delectable sight combined with the light swaying of your tiddies was more than enough for him to cum if he just focused on himself.

But he was determined not to this time, not until you had.

“See Toru? They were helping Shoko’s parents!”

You stick out your tongue and he makes a face back at you.

“Oh what?—s’nothing—Ha! Well ok! He said you were too busy bumping pussies to go to the mall with me! Psh—typical am I rite? Huh—put you on speaker? LOL O-OKAY.”

Snitch!

Gojo mouths to you offended you’d rat him out like this as Utahime’s voice shrills through the phone.

“Satoru you loser! You have to talk about our pussies cause you could never have one of your own in a million years!”

Snorting with laughter Gojo is more than amused.

If only they knew.

You pale signaling at him to ‘STFU’ or he could finish himself off.

“Aww, is that so Utahime? I’m so hurt.”

The mischief in Gojo’s voice is obvious—he’s clearly mocking you.

Annoyed with him getting the upper hand and feeling sassy, you pile on—

“Exactly Hime! I mean he might get some—but a total otaku like him wouldn’t know what to do with a pussy if he even ever got in—EEP!”

A heavy handed smack comes down on your ass—hard.

The force ripples its way into your cunt causing you to feverishly tighten as your tongue pushes a low moan out between your lips.

“Oh ho ho—what's this? You actually like getting spanked huh, Bunny? You dirty, dirty girl…”

Gojo is whispering again before his hand once more swats at that same cheek.

The sting causes saliva to pool in the corners of your mouth.

If looks could kill Gojo would have died a horrible death—that is if you could focus enough to even glare at him. You’re absolutely mortified—too consumed by the spanks that fiercely rained down on your reddening bottom, your pussy getting shamelessly wetter with every hit.

“AH–FAHHH—”

“Bunny! What’s happened?!”

You hear Shoko’s concerned voice this time.

“N-N-Nothing, G-Gojo’s being mean to me cause I told on him! H-He pinched me so hard Shoko!”

“Liar!”

Gojo mouths again and his demeanor turns absolutely devilish.

Oh? So that's how you wanted to continue to play?

You were such a brat sometimes but then again so was he and his competitive nature soared at the challenge.

“Oh did I? Like this, Bunny?”

Gojo’s palms cup your tits roughly before he pinches them, twisting your nipples causing the slobber that collected to dribble down your chin and onto your chest.

“Shiiii—T-Toru! S-STOP YOU A-AHHH–SSHOLE!!”

The grip his thumb and forefingers have on your sensitive buds intensifies and you can barely keep the phone in your grasp as you hold it out arm extended to keep your cries from being heard.

With only one hand free there’s no way for you to worm nor pry his hands from your tits as you are still struggling not to sink lower and choke on your own tongue from the electrifying sensations assaulting your cunt.

This couldn’t be what it was like could it? This overwhelming feeling?

You didn’t want to admit it but as tear-inducing as the sensations were—they felt real fucking good.

Your hips began involuntary rocking as your core now craved how Gojo’s cock scraped against your walls like it was trying to carve itself even deeper inside you if you’d let your hips drop just a little bit lower.

“Toru! Stop picking on our Bunny! Don’t make us come over there and kick your ass!”

The sweat that now runs down Gojo’s brow threatens to blur his vision but he’s locked in and focused. The phone situation being so fucking raunchy combined with the way your pussy is creaming on him (despite you trying your hardest not to feel good) has him stressed.

Swallowing he had to try hard to keep up the act as well as please you without cumming—it would be a feat if he accomplished it to say the very least.

God, this was all so shamefully vulgar.

Did you do this on purpose answering the phone?

He didn’t even know this was a kink of his—or yours apparently.

But your “problem” was now clear to Gojo:

It’s not that you couldn’t cum, it’s just that you were scared to cum.

Any real stimulation triggered your fight or flight.

You were perfectly capable, you just needed a bit of forcefulness—however the effect of it terrified you and you bolted from it every time you had sex with someone—until now.

Heh, there would be no more running from the nut for his little bunny rabbit.

Gojo wonders how far into his ecchi depravity he can take you.

“Your Bunny, huh?”

Gojo's eyes squinted as if he could stare down Shoko and Utahime through the phone.

You were his.

He was the one who was going to make you cum and frankly he didn’t give a fuck anymore if Shoko or Utahime heard it—in fact he wanted them too.

Planting his feet into the bed, Gojo’s form shifts as he swiftly grips your waist simultaneously bringing you down while driving his pelvis up—pummeling his entire length into your guts. The prickly patch of groomed hair at his base tickles your poor abused lil’ clit which had been forcibly nestled into them—the result of being smashed against his pubic bone.

“FUHCCCK—MUTHERFUHH—SHHHH–HIIIIIT!!!”

Vision momentarily blacked out and burning with tears mixed with your running mascara, your pussy still reeling from the sheer magnitude of Gojos long girthly length now all the way sheathed and practically tearing through your womb. Your eyes are firmly lodged in the back of your head, the electrifying vibrations cause you to drop the phone entirely. Your world is spinning from experiencing your first small orgasm that only increased intensity as your efforts to escape Gojo are in vain.

Your cervix is screaming at the probing intrusion of his bulbous tip ramming so far up into you but Gojo has you anchored to him unable to flee from his onslaught of thrusts.

If you could string together a coherent thought you would have wondered if in fact your stomach had been relocated next to your lungs as you felt so full you couldn’t breathe.

Your pussy violently spasms around his girth, creamy fluids seeping down onto his base from your cunt sloshing around him. Gojo grips your cheeks spreading you wider increasing the squelching noises echoing from your cunt.

Shit though, Gojo thinks your perfect pussy might actually break his dick off from how fervently you were clenching him.

Tongue fully lolled out of your mouth, you’re grasping onto Gojo’s shoulders for stability as your saliva drips down his pectorals.

“BUNNY!! Are you still there?? What’s that noise?”

Shoko and Utahime’s calls for you go unanswered. Gojo on the other hand is grinning, albeit through gritted teeth, pleased at how his long trunk-like cock is rendering you nonverbal.

“Hehe, you definitely came a bit that time didn’t ya—ya nasty lil’ Bunny, don’t lie.”

“N-N-Nooo T-Toru–s’like I-I c-can’t breathe—”

“Heh, a’course you can baby Bun—that's what it feels like when you cum, even I know that.”

SMACK!

Another firm smack to your ass has your cunt quivering wildly.

You feel like the virgin in this situation now—and honestly—are you not?

Did those other dicks really count?

It felt like you were having sex for the first time as this was a totally different experience even from the earlier round with Gojo.

“Don’t worry though, now that I know what kinda shit you’re into—I’mma take care of that pervy lil’ princess pussy sooo good, Bunny.”

Oh god—That couldn’t be true could it?

Spanking? Nipple twisting? Having your insides pushed up to your throat?

You didn’t actually like this kinda freaky shit did you?

Yet your body’s reactions remain true even if your mind doesn't want to accept the cause of the fire that is burning within you. Your pussy is in raptures at the feeling of being molded into the exact shape of Gojo’s cock—veins and all.

“HELLLOOOOO BUNNY!!!!”

Absolutely pleased with himself Gojo retrieves the phone.

“Awe p-poor thing, just stubbed her toe runnin’ from me. My—SHIII–room is—FUHHH—k-kinda a m-mess—S-See? I almost tripped just now too. Isn’t that right Bunny?”

Gojo brings the phone closer and you bat it away wishing he would just hang up and spare you the humiliation. Although humiliation seemed to be your new kink as mirroring his earlier actions as you’re pathetically moaning into his skin. Gojo’s masculine scent, mingled with the salty aroma of perspiration, floods your senses, making you feel even more lightheaded, increasing the sloshing of his cock buried deep in your cunt.

The crude noises that rang from your bodies squelching and slapping against each other renders Gojo unable to keep up the charade either. Making up a quick excuse—he has to go get ice for your toe—he quickly hangs up on Shoko and Utahime whose puzzled protests of concern he couldn’t give a single fuck about anymore.

God fucking you while on the phone with them was so fucking hot, he’d have to get you to do it again—maybe with Suguru next time, he’d probably even be into it.

“Hey B-Bunny—y-you think Shoko and Hime were naked too?”

You groan.

This fucking hentai otaku perv—you already told him that they were helping Shoko’s parents!

You want to glare, scream, chastise, get up—but you can’t—you’re at the mercy of him ruthlessly drilling up into your cunt and can only heave out tired mewls in reply.

“Fuuuck–imma cum again soon! Do you feel the way your naughty lil’ cunt is squeezing like she wants to wring me dry, wan’t me to give it all to your pussy Bunny?”

“N-Not i-inside m’pussy, T-Toru!”

A devious smirk appears.

Heh, yeah he promised not inside your pussy.

Without warning Gojo rips his cock out from your sopping core and manhandles you onto your back. Thinking he will simply cum outside somewhere you're finally able to breathe again and you exhale—only to feel his monstrous length being shoved down your throat.

Your eyes shoot open.

Greeted with the image of Gojo's heavy balls in your face, his ball hairs tickle your nose as you gag around his girth straining your throat open wide. You think if he didn’t reach your lungs through your guts he certainly would now that he’s eight and a half inches down your esophagus.

“You said i couldn’t cum in your pussy Bunny, so let’s use that pretty lil’ mouth pussy instead—sweet fuck, ya know she’s almost tighter than your actual cunt.”

Your hands fly to the outside of his thighs pawing over the sweat glossed skin as you drag your nails down them, leaving welts in an effort to get him to ease up. The potent musk of your shared lust that had dripped down his balls was now rubbing on your face assaulting your senses.

It was fucking nasty, so gross and yet your own pussy betrayed you—burning with an ache to be filled again at the smells that stimulated your own primal hedonistic urges.

“Awe, don’t be like that. I know you like it rough, yeah? I haven’t forgotten about you either baby.”

Gojo of course at this point isn’t talking to you but your cunt.

With one hand squeezing your already constricted airway, Gojo’s other snaked its way over your body and reeling it back before delivering a mean open palmed slap to your clit.

The sound of your soaked cunt echoed through his room and he almost came from that alone as your fluids trickled out of you faster, further soiling his expensive sheets.

“This pussy likes being spanked more than those cherry cheeks of yours huh, Bunny? I know my filthy hentai pussy does.”

You’re obviously unable to answer but the way you’re gurgling moans around his cock lets him know this is exactly what you like. Thrusting two thick fingers into your quivering core his burly appendages bullied themselves in as far as they could go.

“You know—G-God, FUCK you’re tight—Bunny, you know I read in an h-manga how girls can squirt from a lack of air and a little bit of prodding, s’ppose—S-SHIII—t’be something in here that sends em absolutely wild.”

Fingers searching deeper it's not until Gojo pulls back to add a third that he scrapes past a firm spongy spot that has your legs buckling.

Astonished by the amazingly sexy reactions of your body—Gojo’s eyes are blown out wide over how much your clit swells, your hole twitches and your juices spurt out of you as your tears run over your cheeks to wet his balls further. Gojo doesn’t even need to thrust as your throat tightens around him like crazy with him jamming his fingers into that particular spot over and over.

Lost in your own ecstasy you’re proven wrong as contrary to your belief you thought his otaku sex-ed would be to his detriment to his skills. However it's exactly because of all of the lecherous and depraved shit he collected and consumed did he know exactly what to do to you now that got you all messed up. Eyes lodged into your skull, squirting and practically blacking out with his dick stuffed down your throat on his long dexterous fingers abusing your cunt.

“SHIIIIIIT—”

With a keen grunt Gojo cums, pumping loads of viscous fluid down your throat forcing you to gorge on his thick cum.

“F-Fuck Bunny are you a throat goat? M-Milked me dry...”

He’s still driving his pliable fingers in and out of you, his arms are shaking from his own orgasm but he doesn’t care. Nothing on earth could stop him from replicating the beautiful sight of your pretty lil’pussy spurting out juices that run all the way down his forearm.

“…heh, looks like I can milk you too, Bunny.”

Gojo finally dislodges his dick out of your throat but still runs a hand through your pussy folds to rub soothing circles on your clit. You whimper through your coughs as you spit up some of his cum, still gagging after what were mere minutes but seemed like hours of choking on his beefy cock.

Vision spotty, tremors run through your body—both ends so thoroughly fucked out—that it doesn’t register that Gojo is once again lifting your body bringing you towards the edge of the bed.

If you thought Gojo was going to give you aftercare from having used your body like one of his anime fleshlights, you’d be correct—but not before one last round.

Lifting your hips off his luxe bed Gojo positions your wobbly legs on his shoulders. His eyes are blown out and crazed with his own twisted perversion. Weakened and spent himself as cock twitched from overstimulation but he’s never been a quitter—determined to make you cum again and again before one of you finally passes out.

Your toes wiggle and you keen as his tongue ravenously dips between your toes. Trailing his tongue past the arch of your foot to bite your heel.

“You’re so fucking sexy, Bunny—the best pussy in the whole world, how could you ever think she was broken? You were just waiting for me to use her huh?”

“S-shut up–Toru, j-jeez…”

Your windpipes had been fucked raw and you’re croaking which to your dismay only seems to turn Gojo on more and he’s tapping his tender engorged cockehead on your clit. Your brows pinch together as you bite back moans from his frenulum catching and chafing so wonderfully over your clitoral hood.

“Puhleaseeee, Honey Bunny! Let me fuck you a bit more now that we know you are as ecchi coded as I am, m’kay my pervy princess?”

The very thought shames you and you think your heart might seize from embarrassment if it doesn’t give out from pleasure first and your heart feels like it might beat out of your chest chest from all the pet names Gojo is bestowing upon you.

“Toru…”

You try to reason with him through your defeated huffs as you press your legs shut together.

“...y-you made me cum from your fingers n’ your cock.. Y-You won. Pleaseee—I-I don’t even think I can cum any more.”

Not convinced Gojo pushes your legs back.

“Oh, is that right? Let’s ask her then!”

Gojo delivers another smack onto your slippery pussy as if on the command of her new owner your obedient cunt immediately leaks a bit more creamy slick onto his palm.

“See, baby? She says you can though and that she’s tired of you running from it Bunny—”

Still hugging your legs together in his grasp, Gojo lowers himself to rub his cheek against your pussy like it was his favorite pillow.

“Don’t fret my pervy lil’ pussy I won't let Bunny deprive you any longer from what you really need.”

You groan yet Gojo is more gentle this time as he gingerly rolls you onto your belly and lifts your hips to slide his giant Agumon pillow underneath.

Urgh, did it have to be this one!?

There's no time for complaints though once Gojo spreads your cheeks wide. A glob of spit hits your crack as his thumb prods against your shy puckering rear hole while he humps his cock between the fat of your thighs through your soggy swollen folds.

“Shiiit imma fuck this tight lil’ bunny hole next time baby, m’kay?”

The thread causes you to shudder yet all your back talk and sass is gone from his illicit preparations as he elicits heady mewls from your hoarse throat. Your cunt flutters eagerly to have him fill you again as his fingers imprint themselves into your bottom.

The anticipation is so intense as bracing for his size ripping through you you nearly fail to notice Gojo is now humming to himself—humming—THE DIGIMON CHAMPIONS THEME SONG!?

OH HE HAD YOU ALL THE WAY FUC—

—And suddenly you’re screaming again, eyes glued to the back of your skull as his hips jerk forward, drilling his dick past your walls to pound directly into your cervix with the tempo of a madman.

OH FUCK! …s’good!

You finally surrender letting your cunt control your brain as you throw ass back to meet his frenzied thrusts. Like a drug addict from the first real taste your pussy is already addicted to the feeling of his cock destroying you.

“S’toru–S’toru–S’toru–FUHHHHCK!”

His name fell from your lips like a mantra, the only word your brain—now thoroughly fucked smoothed—could remember.

The sight of you chasing your own pleasure as your ass slammed back onto his pelvis, your skin rippling as it bounced and splashed frothy fluids onto his abs sent him further into perverse degeneracy.

“F-Fuck Bunny—baby, this pussy too good—We can’t tell Suguru for a while, kay? He’ll want to fuck you too and this pussy is just f’me. Suguru gets all the pussy s’tell me you’ll keep yours f’er me. Thought you were broken but you just needed my cock this whole time—”

Burying your face in the sheets bashfully at the mention of Suguru, your cunt pulls more taut around Gojo’s cock.

“—FUHH, g-go out with me yeah, Bunny? Love you s’much—SHIIIIT—buy you whatever you want—t-take you where you want—this dick s’yours Bun Bun—all yours!”

Plunging into deeper if it were even possible Gojo’s blunted nails drug into the fat of your ass and hips, it wouldn’t scar but it would certainly add to the inevitable bruising.

“I’ll never even look at a non 2D woman again as long as I have you as my lil’ onahole—shit I’ll never even buy one of those again unless it's in the shape of your pussy—F-FUCK, w-wait–y-you think we could get one made in the shape of your pussy–my girlfriend’s perfect pussy?!”

It’s too much—too overwhelming and your mind is slowly but surely being corrupted by Gojo. Otherwise the image of him whining while fucking a onahole casted from your cunt as he watches you finger yourself would have never in a million years popped into your mind.

Determined to see you unhinged in every respect, Gojo didn’t want to deny you pleasure but if he had to be a little mean to you so you could finally be honest with him then so be it.

Slowly pulling out, your expression is near frantic as you look back at him. Your mouth gaping and babbling nonsensically for him not for him to stop—you were so close.

Gojo simpers, relishing in your cute cockdrunk face scrunched with confusion from him pulling out so suddenly.

“W-Words baby, c’mon I just spilled my heart out here!”

Your pussy weeps longingly for Gojo’s cock as your body shakes with a yearning begging to be filled again.

God help you, you want him.

You want him and his sinfully curved demon dick badly, it’s all you could think about—Not even remembering what life was like before he so perversely rearranged your guts. However, not only did he know how to hit all your spots, he knew you—and despite him completely disregarding all of the rules you had initially set, he was the first guy who actually cared about how you felt during sex, even if he was a perverted otaku.

There was simply no use in denying it any longer.

You caved.

Tears streaming down your face as you hiccupped your admission of affections for him, red-faced and flustered.

“S’toru, I-I’ll be your girlfriend—need you n’need your cock s’much—”

Pressing the side of your face against the mattress you bring a shaky hand through your legs, fingers slipping over your slick as you part your pussy lips—your vacant core exposed and fluttering, begging for him just as hard.

“—m’also you’re onahole T-Toru, I promise i’ll only fuck you, j-just please keep fucking me, i wanna cum on your cock, want your cum in me Toru baby!”

You might die from the shame of it all once you sober up from being utterly cockdrunk and stupefied but all you could think about right now was Gojo’s hard dick laying heavy pipe back into your cunt.

Something snaps in Gojo.

Head over heels for you now, Gojo knew from that moment on he’d never let you go.

Real or 2D—no could compare to you in Gojo’s eyes.

Toru finally found something he loved more than digimon—your perfect lil’pussy.

And he was going to show her how much he loved her right now.

Taking what was so graciously presented to him this time around, you’re short circuiting once he’s finally inside you again your most base needs being satiated turning you into a cockfiendish whore crying for him to fuck you harder as you grip his sheets like you could rip them apart.

His strokes become more merciless, unrelenting on your pussy and Gojo leans his weight onto your back, legs bent crouching on top of you, his hips becoming manic they thrashed forward in short heavy thrusts to hammer you into the mattress.

Gojo himself is beyond gone.

Disregarding all promises of mentioning otaku shit while he was wrecking your cunt.

“Fuck bunny this feels better then what I thought Agnewomon’s pussy would be like— you'd look so sexy in that cosplay. Gonna have you dress up for me and show you off at cons. I’ll buy you whatever you want, anything, the whole fucking world yeah? Just fuck—wear those those vibrating panties while you cosplay too, you’d like that?”

You tightened groaning at his debauchery, something that was not missed at all by Gojo who by this point had fucked his own self dumb in your angelic cunt. White strands of his hair stuck to both of your faces as he tiled your head back so he could see how desperately those little hearts danced in your dilated pupils before they were reduced to nothing more than mere splotches whiting out your vision.

“Fuck u really are a slut huh bunny? Tightening at the thought of all those otaku perverts looking at you in that skimpy outfit while I control the buzzing on that lil clit. But they can’t have you—m’the only otaku pervert that knows how to make you cum!”

Delirious with melodic honeyed cries spilling from you, you just wanted him to stop talking—pointing out every single time your body responded to his ecchi tastes becoming your tastes and now just yearning for a taste of him.

Reaching back you’re pulling him down to smash your lips together. Messy, but you could care as Gojo tried to swallow your tongue fucking his own into your mouth with a force that matched his cock. If fucking you was heaven then kissing you was nirvana—he’d give you the whole world if he could keep fucking you like this forever.

Gojo needs you to cum again soon as the feral need breed your tummy until it swells with his seed has him losing the little sanity he even had to begin with. A virgin until today he’d saved up so much waiting for your tight cunt this whole time.

Moving his lips away from yours only for air, your chest heaves harmonies cries from his hand weaving under your bodies. Jittery fingers swiped frantically over your clit, hurling you towards your euphoric climax as his lips descend back upon yours.

“Cum Bunny—I got ya baby.”

Deliberately plowing himself harder against your cervix, your body seizes up releasing tension into pure white energy that you swore was pumping through your every vein as an extension of your pussy as his heavy load spurts to paint your walls and sear your insides as his thrusts continue to swill his seed inside you, pushing it further into your womb—-thank fuck for birth control.

However that was the last thing you remember before you go limp, temporarily blacked out as you swear you’ve transcended to a celestial plane of existence. One where all slutted out souls went to escape from the unearthly pleasure they’ve been tortured by. You don’t know how long you’ve been out but you're squirming as you come back to consciousness. Realizing your now back on your back as your hips involuntarily rocking against something thick and wet.

When you finally manage to open your eyes you're greeted by Gojo tongue slurping at your clit and lapping up the cum oozing out of your battered hole like it was a refreshingly creamy bowl of kakigori. His hands embedded themselves into your thighs pinning them to the bed nibbling on your clit and having your already overstimulated core climaxing on his tongue once more.

Strings of your sticky nectar connect his tongue to your cunt as he looks up at you. Having the audacity to grin lovingly at you as if he didn’t look like a downright starved and deranged man with a sheen of shared fluids dribbling down his chin. He’s pussy drunk once again this time buzzed off the pungent yet sweet taste of his cum marinating in your creamy tenderized cunt.

Gojo is cheesin’ at you like he’s found his favorite spot in the world—and he had as far as he was concerned.

“You said it was too messy, remember Bunny? The least I can do to make it up to you is scoop every drop out of your runny lil’ cunt with my tongue! What kind of boyfriend would I be to have all this cum soaking my Bunny’s slutty little thong and spilling down her thighs while out to dinner—so I decided to have mine a little early.”

FUCKING HELL—DINNER! What time was it?!

Disordented, your head is fuzzy and you could feel the soreness settling in your muscles. You didn’t think you’d be able to get out of this bed in the next 24 hours, let alone make it to dinner—if you hadn’t already missed it!

“Nnnn, n-not like I can go anymore Toru, s’all your f-fault!”

Your bruised lips poke out into pout. Gojo chuckles at you how cute you look and he rises up from between your thick thighs to boop you on the nose as he gazes adoringly at you.

“I know princess m’sorry—I already texted Shoko saying you couldn’t, don’t worry~~”

But your eyes widened as you were now fully worried.

Worried as to what the fuck Gojo actually texted them!

“T-Toru—”

“—I just told them you weren’t feeling well, was that okay?”

Quickly assuaging your fears—you can relax a bit for now (although you were sure you’d have a lot of explaining to do later) as Gojo pulls you to him again and softly kisses your neck, hands returning to your ass to rub soothing circles on your chaffed skin.

Relaxing again floods sleep into your eyes. A welcome godsend honestly, so you can process everything that just happened, especially Gojo aggressively fucking a love confession out of you.

“And m’sorry if I got carried away Bun… but you were so good for me, so fucking perfect! Just relax and I’ll take care of you! I’ll handle everything—for you and your nasty lil’ cunt. I love you both and I’ll keep both my pretty girls happy forever! I promise!”

Gazing at you with cartoonishly sparkling eyes, you have to look away from Gojo lest your ears altogether burn up in embarrassment from his shameless and yet a hundred percent earnest vocalization of affections that somehow still got your heart racing.

“—oh and my parents will be here tomorrow—we can tell them right? They will be so excited! They've been telling me since I was little I shouldn’t let you get away! Ooo! Ooo! Maybe now that we're dating they’ll let us use their sex dungeon! We need to think of a safe word though Bunny—”

Scarcely comprehending anything he is saying to you, your mind like your pussy had been fully liquified. Both ruthlessly corrupted by Gojo’s long otaku cock and pervy ass fantasies which is no surprise seeing as his family even owns a—

HOL’ THE ENTIRE FUCKUP—A SEX DUNGEON!?

Like a shot of caffeine directly into your veins your eyes nearly pop out of your head as you blink at him dumbfounded, mouth hanging open.

“Doesn’t that sound fun, Bunny!? My parents are so cool! When I turned 18 my dad even gave me some of his rare and one-of-a-king hentai figures for my collection to get me started and then—”

Tuning him out you’re gagged at the unexpected revelations—and his parents always seemed like such charming n’ decent God fearing people too. Well known to be ruthless in the business world, but upstanding global philanthropists nonetheless.

Well the apple sure as hell didn’t fall too far from the sordid sex fiend tree, that was for damn sure!

Clearly you had no idea what you were getting yourself into or had unleashed by agreeing to be Gojo’s girlfriend. I mean, could no longer deny your growing feelings for him—plus he did just give you multiple back-breaking-terrifyingly-mind-numbing-earth-shattering-orgasms. Not to mention, you would definitely be getting one of every Hermes bag ever made if you wanted one—but at what cost?

Your Dignity?

Self-respect?

The right to call yourself a functional and contributing non-degenerate member of society?

Who knows really…

Although perhaps dating a Gojo, the next heir at that, you’d be too rich and highly regarded for people to even care (we’ll except for your friends giving y’all hell but you could eventually make peace with that).

You internally groan as the gentle touches on your bottom morph into lustful gropes and you know your brand new boyfriend would not be granting rest for your totally demolished lil’ pussy anytime soon unless you could distract him a bit.

“—Toru, Toru baby listen, please.”

Interrupting him, you muster the energy to put on the sweetest face you can manage in your exhausted state.

And of course, Gojo, as always and yet unknowingly, tests the limits of your tolerance.

“Yes, my whittle Bunny, my kinky baby girl—hentai goddess divine?”

Gojo nuzzles your nose in an eskimo kiss as he showers you with ‘loving compliments’.

Scrunching your face, you grit your teeth through your already weak smile to stop yourself from losing it at him referring to you as ‘hentai goddess divine’—y’all would definitely be having a talk about that as well as appropriate in-public pet names later though.

“Babyyyyy—I’m so sticky and sore, why don’t you be a good boyfriend and get stuff ready for us to take a bath, hm? Maybe find me something else to wear too, hm?”

You did need a bath and you calculated even with his energetic disposition it should take him at least 15-20 minutes to delegate the tasks and get everything together considering how huge his mansion was.

“Oh! Of course, of course! Just wait here! I’ll be right back, my ecchi angel.”

Brow-twitching you sit up to wave at him with another strained smile as he scrambles to put on pants and heads out of his room.

You sigh tiredly and make yourself comfy on his cloud like pillows.

Thinking he’s finally left and you can savor some much needed time to make peace with what you got yourself into by agreeing to be the girlfriend of an otaku nerd like Gojo Satoru—

—when his head suddenly peaks back in the room with a sheepish look on his face.

“Heh, you know Bunny, was thinking—you really didn’t think I could code crack your cute lil’ cunt now did ya?”

Your eyes are closed but your fists are balling angrily gripping onto the pillows surrounding you.

“Don’t worry Bunny, yours is the only pussy my dick is digidestined for!”

With that, Gojo narrowly avoids the Agumon pillow plushie that is swiftly hurled at his head as he dashes away from the door, his merry yet hysterical laughter echoing through the halls.

©blkkizzat 2024. do not steal works or gfx, do not translate.

⏭ a/n: this fic was wayyyy too long but i've been kinda mean to y'all gojo glazers lately rejoicing in your sorrows cause you are now miserable like the rest of us lmfao, so consider this y'alls bone :P tbh im kinda surprised this is the first full gojo fic i've written lol, it was fun tho cause otaku!gojo is a freak for pussy would drive you insane in all the right and wrong ways. i still have invisible man gojo and ceo/professor gojo planned tho (plus that frat boy satosugu request).

plug choso p3 next! (i promise!!!) taglist.

reblogs and comments are my life's blood ty ᥫ᭡ .ᐟ

#꒰ঌ lilith’s recs ໒꒱#silly smut is so fun!

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megumiivs · 7 months ago

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thank you so much for 100 followers hello??? 😭🙏

#im literally in disbelief #y’all really like my writing even though i havent written shit since nov #i promise i’ll come out with new content soon :))

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megumiivs · 7 months ago

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as you like it (sequel to romeo ♱ juliet)

↳ gojo satoru/reader

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

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

♱ tags. 26k wc, extremely ooc, tyranny, emperor!gojo, empress!reader, (they are both insane!), unrequited love, religion (especially catholicism), blasphemy, mentions of infidelity, violence, war, rebellion, misogyny, impregnation, smut, disease, gore, death, arson

♱ notes. heavily inspired by anne boleyn's real-life story, and manhwas sister, i am the queen in this life and ten ways to get dumped by a tyrant, as well as shakespeare’s king henry V. direct quotes also derived from the movie the king. finally, the modern english version is here, and it is long overdue T-T

♱ FIRST TIMELINE OF LONG LIVE THE VILLAINESS ♱

EARLY MODERN ENGLISH -> MODERN ENGLISH VERSION

DRAMATIS PERSONAE.

SATORU, Emperor of Caelum. YOU, of the same order. SUGURU, knight commander of the Imperial Order of Knights. TOJI, Emperor of Astheryn. NAOYA, a duke, cousin to Toji. GENEVA, nurse to the empress. MAXIMILIAN, advisor to the Caelan Emperor. NANAMI, a nobleman. The Pope. FRIAR MYCHAL, a Franciscan. A maid. A physician. The Oracle. Citizens of Astheryn and Caelum; kinsfolk of both empires; the Imperial Court, Nobles, Guards, Watchmen, and Attendants

⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶♱⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

PROLOGUE

In fair Caelum, an emperor reigns, A throne usurped through blood and disdain. Beside him, an Empress fair did stand, Her love unmet, her heart unmanned. No heir has graced their union still, Her womb remains a barren field, His anger thus come veiled in scorn, To seek another, and secure his throne. In this tale of sorrow, rage, and might, Where empires clash and fates alight, We delve into a world both dark and bright, Where love and power wage their ceaseless fight.

⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶♱⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

THE LATE 15TH CENTURY

ACT I

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

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

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

“What is your purpose?” he uttered.

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

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

“Regarding the New Year’s banquet, my dear husband. It is due in a fortnight, and preparations must be set into motion.” You stood squarely before him, hands entwined before you. A regal presence. A queenly figure, fashioned precisely to his desires. Such was the image the empire had embraced since your ascension to the throne. Before him stood the epitome of grace suited to that role. “What do you say our theme should be?”

He closed the ledger he had been inscribing on, scrutinizing your features intently. “As you know, I dislike such events, but this banquet is an avoidable obligation.” His gaze shifted towards your gown that was meticulously crafted to complement your form. It was adorned with the same elaborate embroidery as his own attire, and accented by a sizable silver cross adorning your neck like the good Christian you were. “The people are starting to notice how grand our affairs are becoming; therefore, I prefer to avoid any unnecessary extravagance that might cause a stir. Let it be lavish enough to uphold our standing, yet not overly flamboyant,” he paused, “As for the theme, black and silver will be fitting to complement our regalia.”

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

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

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

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

“As you wish, my liege.” With careful steps, you navigated his study, casting an appraising gaze upon the books lining his shelves before pausing behind him. He should perceive that the banquet wasn’t the only thing on your mind that day. “Please, do not trouble yourself with all this paperwork.” Your lips brushed his ear. “Instead, should I anticipate your presence in my bedchamber tonight?”

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

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

“It is futile to hold a grudge over matters beyond our control.” Displeasure thinned his lips. “What gain would I have in chastising you simply because you are barren?”

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

“You have not conceived after six years, that qualifies as being barren to me.” He flipped back to the page he was perusing, resuming his writing.

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

Satoru halted in his writing, his quill suspended in the air. He closed his eyes as he spoke, “If you do not conceive in the foreseeable future, I have no choice but to divorce you. No matter the cost.”

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

“Are you suggesting a concubine, then?” Firm and resolute in your stance was how you received his proposal.

The emperor averted his gaze, allowing silence to stand as your response for several minutes until he finally articulated a considerate reply. “My heir cannot be born a bastard, and so concubines would only complicate matters. I have no plans in that department.” You sensed the direction of his thoughts, and you dreaded his continuation. “Instead, I implore you to abdicate your throne, and I shall marry another lady, whether of royal or imperial lineage, to bear the heir of this empire. It is the only fitting course of action, one which may necessitate a divorce.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶♱⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

ACT II

“If the oracle speaks the truth, then I fear, my lord, that this empire is destined for downfall.”

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

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

“Max, what do you say? Tell me, do you think I am incapable?” The man of higher power questioned. “I have discussed the divorce with the Empress. I have outlined my plan in case she fails to bear my heir, and presented it in a way that seems fair to her. Yet, she reacts with such intensity. And she loves so fiercely. Oh, women. Such troublesome, defiant women are the issue! She’s a shrew—that is what she is. For many years, I have given her the benefit of the doubt. Her ambitions outweigh her sense. I am at a loss on how to proceed with her any further. The prophecy demands that I have an heir.”

The old man returned him a soulless look. “If you interpret the matter differently than intended, then may I suggest that Your Majesty consider disposing of her.”

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

“Yes, I believe it is. In the same manner as your father and mother,” Maximillian asserted, drawing a deep breath. “Please, do not misunderstand my intentions as treason. My loyalty rests with you, my liege. I stand beside you. I desire nothing but the best for you, for this empire has not seen better days than under your rule.”

Silence enveloped the air. Satoru took a moment to gaze at his elongating shadow, gradually shaping itself as he moved farther from the candlelight. In the darkness, his shadow morphed into a menacing silhouette, a specter lurking in the darkness was what had become of him. To become a tyrant was never his intention nor the promise he made to his departed sister, who yearned nothing but for Satoru to embody fairness and strength in rulership. And to be an emperor for the people. She had strived for peace among nations, yet here her brother stood, mirroring the oppressive parental figures he had overthrown. What allure did power hold over him? What such force could sway him now to forsake the very individual who had displayed unwavering marital devotion towards him?

“Have you been in communication with the King of Ellesmere?” inquired the Emperor. “Is it not true that his daughter, the princess, was to marry the late Prince of Astheryn? That prince was the son of that villain. That tyrant. Emperor Toji of Astheryn, my foremost enemy. What has become of that princess, do you know?”

Maximillian stared at him intently. “She is twenty-eight years old and past her marriageable age, yet Princess Katarina remains unwed. Is it her hand that Your Majesty seeks?”

“I say this as the Emperor: it is solely her status that renders her the only eligible woman to be my wife and empress of this empire." His decision was laden with hesitation yet compelled by necessity. “However, for the moment, she cannot be seated until Y/N has been removed from her position. My decision will depend on whether my wife can produce my heir soon. If not, I shall dispose of her.”

His advisor sent him a look of approval. “'Tis a decision that can only emanate from you, my lord. May God be with you.”

“If that is all, then you can leave.” The emperor paused near the western part of the castle, not far from the corridors leading to his wife's bedchamber. “I ask you to be my messenger tomorrow. Write to the King of Ellesmere, briefly and clearly. Before you falsely honor a new empress, know that the long hours of my night are to be spent with the woman currently occupying the throne.”

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

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

“What hour is it?” You spoke softly, approaching him with a sorrowful glint in your eyes. “I have waited.”

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

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

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

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

“I have to admit you are quite beautiful,” whispered him. It is a shame that you are so useless in one aspect.

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

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

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

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

“You know that I will leave if you do not provide me with an heir soon, do you not?” Satoru did not sleep as he looked at you, his thoughts running rampant as he questioned whether or not he was being too cruel. His heart skipped a beat as he saw a second of your tears, tears that you so rightfully held back, and he was at a loss of words for once. He knew that he needed to stay firm on his decision, but seeing you on the verge of breaking down... it struck guilt in him. Satoru’s face softened, his tone becoming more calm and less forceful. Subconsciously did he do his best to comfort you. “I am not pleased that it has come to this. My words may be harsh at times, but you understand that I must fulfill my duties as emperor, do you not?”

You could not answer immediately and tried to bear the sting it brought to your heart. “How is it that you suddenly find it easy to cast me aside? Is there another lady on your mind?”

“That is not the case.” His guilt was knocking at the door, but he tried to ignore it. “This empire needs an heir, and you have failed me.”

“Perhaps blame the lack of children on yourself.” You bit back as your chest rose and fell from heavy breaths. “So seldom does my own husband grace my bed, as though I am unwed. Blame it, then, on the distance you have imposed upon us! A child cannot be born if we are not intimate.”

Satoru’s eyes narrowed at your words. “Are you suggesting we engage in intimate relations every minute and every second of the day?” A scoff escaped his lips. “I have given you eight years.”

“And yet, for eight years, you have not learned to love me.”

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

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

⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶♱⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

ACT III

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

A rose will bloom, it then will fade

So does a youth, so does a fairest maid

Beneath the stars, they found their place,

In secret trysts, love's tender grace.

But lo, the fates their love did fray,

In bitter strife, they slipped away.

So hush, dear ones, and hear this lay,

Of love that wilted, night and day.

In whispered sighs, they bid goodbye,

Two souls in love, 'neath starry sky.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Your Imperial Majesty, the Emperor of Caelum.” It was none other than Duke Naoya of Astheryn, whose sarcastic presence seemed to have acted as a representative of their highest ruler. Emperor Toji’s absence to this occasion already constituted an affront to Satoru, and the pompous mien exhibited by the duke only intensified the indignation. A decade had passed since the death of Prince Megumi, and the prideful Astheryn Emperor still refrained from setting foot on Caelum’s soil to acknowledge the purported ‘peace’ between the empires. Even more, the subtle curve on Duke Naoya’s lips added an infantile insult to the already festering wound. “Accept my belated greetings. It took me but a moment to recognize you—rumors describe the Calean Emperor’s presence as imposing, yet reality often differs from reputation.”

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

“Oh, certainly!” Duke Naoya spoke in Calean with a heavy accent, still unfazed as his eyes slowly drifted to you. “They pale in comparison to the burdens of ruling an empire. Yet, surely, it is not as burdensome without an heir.” His implication hung in the air, a pointed insinuation veiled in the guise of courtly banter.

Before the exchange could escalate into a diplomatic strain, Friar Mychal took it upon himself to intervene, exhaling a laugh of unease and positioning himself between the Emperor and the Duke. “Very well!” he exclaimed. “I have received word that those attending the mass will offer tributes for the basilica in remembrance of the tenth year since the passing of the Prince and the Princess. As a matter of fact, there are already numerous flowers adorning their statue that His Majesty Satoru has donated to the museum.”

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

“A remarkable piece, indeed!”

“The detail is breathtaking!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

With insincere regards,

Emperor Toji II of Astheryn

⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶♱⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

ACT IV

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Your Imperial Majesty!” Lord Armand countered. “With all due respect, your name has been besmirched! Is this not blasphemous to this empire and us, its men?”

“Our men are not prepared for war, Lord Etienne,” the previous noble claimed. “And how can we wage war with our forces against those of Astheryn's? Their military prowess is the mightiest throughout the central continent. They are barbaric folks, enemies to peace. We are nothing but simple foes to them..”

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

You held your position and participated in the discussion. “Lord Etienne, do you speak so poorly of Caelum, your country, and speak so highly of Astheryn, your enemy?” For a moment, the court fell silent. “May God have mercy on you! Listen to his judgment. Is Caelum a joke to you? We have strengthened our military might since His Majesty’s ascent, and we are powerful enough to wage war against the entire world!”

“But Your Majesty—”

“Silence, all of you!” Satoru rose from his throne, exhaling in exasperation, and shot you a displeased look. His next words were sharp and his anger misdirected. “Empress, I appreciate your indignation, but this proves that women should not meddle in court sessions. Emotions depart from your mouth before logic enters your mind. You are dismissed from this session. Immediately.”

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

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

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

Lord Nanami was more of the voice of reason, expressing his approach on the matter with neither bias towards engaging in or retreating from war. “My liege, I speak in your best interest. Let us convene with our allies, assess our military readiness, and explore all avenues for resolution. Only then shall we make an informed decision. It is most appropriate that we prepare ourselves against the enemy.”

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

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

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

“I fear this as I say this: the prophecy is upon you, my lord.” Lord Maximillian’s voice hinted at unease. His warning, spoken with a mood of paranoia. “The oracle’s riddles are coming to fruition, and this predicament with Astheryn is a clear example of that fact. War looms on the horizon, and it threatens to be your undoing. Now, more than ever, we need the support of another nation like Ellesmere.”

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

The lord cleared his throat and stood next to the emperor. “You must rid yourself of her, Your Majesty. If the prophecy has taught us anything, it is that the Empress serves as a harbinger of your downfall. The destruction of Caelum is inevitable if you retain her. Abandon all hope that she will bring you a child or luck. I acknowledge the attachment you have formed with her over the years, but she brings ill fate to all of us.”

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

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

“Which is precisely why you must dispose of her!” Lord Maximillian pressed onto the matter with greater seriousness. “My liege, it is anticipated that you will yearn for Empress Y/N’s loyalty even after your marriage with the Princess of Ellesmere. And her ferocious devotion could only hinder your plans and bring about your downfall. Who’s to say she will withstand the temptation to inflict harm upon the fair Princess Katarina out of jealousy? This, as you know, could turn Ellesmere against us!” His passionate speech then silenced him into a quiet plea. “Please, Your Majesty, consider it deeply. For the sake of this empire.”

⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶♱⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

ACT V

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

“Oh, how cruel is this fate!” You paused by the fountain, observing your reflection in the glistening water. “You have given me a husband devoid of passion! Am I no longer beautiful? Have I lost my allure and youthful appearance? Has Cupid directed his arrow elsewhere? Oh, he must be insane!”

Tears welled up your eyes, blurring your vision as you looked into the mirrored reflection. You thought of Satoru’s hateful gaze when you closed your eyes and could feel the painful knots in your stomach. He had been nothing but a distant spouse for eight years in your marital union, and as unfortunate as you were, any improvements were farfetched. Every attempt at progress only fueled into a relationship filled with disagreements.

Your monologue resumed. “Could there be another woman? A maid, perhaps? One who sneaks into his bed at night while I sleep soundly. Shame on her! Fie, insolent wench! Or could it be a noblewoman he met at a ball, a coming-of-age ceremony, or anything of the sort? Vile, dishonorable harlot! I shall strip you of your noble status and exile you from Caelum!”

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

“My lady?”

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

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

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

You sighed in lamentation and accepted the linen cloth from his hand. “To claim that everything is ‘alright’' is a wishful sentiment. The state of my marriage troubles me, yet I shall not burden you with such matters, for they are private.”

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

“How dare you! Do you not care to leave a woman in peace?” you questioned, a moue forming on your face. The tears had long dried from your cheeks as you spoke to him. “I wish to be alone!”

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

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

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

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

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

For a while, Suguru did not speak. He appeared to be contemplating his answer as his stance had become defensive. Or hesitant, whichever fit. He did not meet your careful eyes, though he did look down and confess a knowledge that greatly devastated you. “The prophecy governs His Majesty’s attitude towards you. In the dungeon hides an oracle he visits every fortnight. I accompanied him during one of these visits, where the oracle predicted the need for an heir soon and told him that the failure to produce one may lead to his downfall at the hands of a woman not of royal blood. To my understanding, he interpreted her riddles as the need to execute you and wed another woman of true royal lineage. This truth solidifies my allegiance to you, Empress.”

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

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

The knight could only provide you with a comforting bow. “I am afraid these words are true, my lady. Lord Maximilian conspires with him. Hurry to the dungeons and seek the oracle. She will reveal the truth to you.”

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

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

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

“Empress.” His deep voice startled you.

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

Satoru stared at Suguru with a fierce look before turning to you. “It is dangerous to be out at this hour. I wish nothing untoward to happen to you, so I came here to ensure your safety.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“A wife? A wife you asked for divorce?” you mocked as his statement erupted a laughter out of you. A loud, boisterous laughter that screamed an insult to his face. “You see me as nothing but a bearer of children. Not as a wife or a person you treasure with your heart.” As you ridiculed him with a hint of humor on your face, your eyes had also grown deranged. “A mere pawn to your chessboard is what I am.”

Satoru was rigid in his stance. “I merely proposed divorce if you were unable to conceive. As emperor, it is my duty to father an heir. If the empress cannot fulfill that duty, I am compelled to find someone else who can—”

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

A lover? Satoru was seething, yet his expression remained unchanged. He knew that you were taunting him, and still chose not to give you the reaction you wanted. “Then, I am sure you will have more success at producing heirs with your lover than you do with me.”

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

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

Your chest rose and fell in heavy breaths. “If you get yourself a concubine, then I will have my own lover. That or nothing at all.”

“Enough! I do not seek a concubine,” he raised his voice, a spasm of irritation crossing his face. “You are nothing but a maggot-pie, crawling in the dirt, serving no purpose for me! Ill-tempered shrew! I have said it many times, and I say it once more. In your failure to conceive, my intention is to remarry another lady and make her the empress, not a concubine! My heir must be legitimate. Stick that to your empty head!”

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

“Must I remind you that it was I who assisted Your Majesty in ascending to the throne?” A warning shadow crossed your features. “I played a crucial role in staging a coup to overthrow your tyrant parents. If the princess had not perished, would you not be considered a madman? Now tell me, the only compensation I seek is your love, yet have you paid your dues?”

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

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

In his eyes, love and affection were something you should receive only when you deserve it, not when you demand it. In his mind, you had grown too familiar with him, too spoiled by his presence. It was time he corrected this. “You are mistaken to think that love is a condition of our relationship. I have never made promises of love or affection. I only promised you attention and the prestige of being an empress. Have I not fulfilled this promise and made you into an empress in every sense? Love is merely an illusion conjured in your imagination.”

“You are a tyrant through and through!” You pushed him away, eyes brimming with unshed tears. “What devil are you, that you torment me like this? You miserable villain! Usurping knave! Betrayer of blood, who masquerades himself an emperor under a false sovereign! I placed you on that throne you so wistfully enjoy. Your power and authority hold no sway over me.”

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

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

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

“What will I do? I will remind you of your position, wife,” he continued to speak in a menacing tone, “But you may test my patience as much as you like. Go ahead and take a lover as you have claimed you would. Let us see how your arrogance holds up when I force you to bear his bastard child.”

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

Yet, his countenance proved otherwise. “It is not. You see, I am not possessive of you. You can bear whomever’s child you wish. But you must be aware, that once that child is born, I would never claim my title as the father. It would be deemed a bastard, its blood impure and its existence an insult to my throne.”

“Do not lecture me on matters of infidelity when you are the one desperate to bed another woman.” You were bold enough to send him a look of disgust. “You are an emperor all due to me. Without me, you are nothing.”

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

A snort escaped your lips. “Delude yourself to that.”

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

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

Satoru’s laughter rang out as you persisted in your resistance, his eyes narrowing with a mix of intrigue and anger. Your defiance only served to stoke the flames of his wrath as he began to speak, “Darling,” and made a mockery of your endearment, “Perhaps I can ravish you until you are senseless.”

“Vainglorious dastard,” you spitefully replied.

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

“S-Satoru!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That, that was how he defined love to be.

⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶♱⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

ACT VI

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

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

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

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

“Empress! Empress!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I do not have that luxury of time! I cannot be seen here.” You gave him a menacing stare. “At the risk of your own life, Sir Knight, if this turns out to be nothing but foolishness, I will personally disembowel you—”

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

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

“For the Emperor's gaze wanders far,

As he seeks a lady of royal blood,

Ambition cloaked in the guise of lineage,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You lifted a hand, stopping her while you tried to get out of bed. “That won’t be necessary.” Despite your queasiness, you had decided that there was no time to waste for this war of love and death against your husband. The sooner you planned things out, the greater your advantage would be. You had to have the upperhand in this. “Nurse, where did my husband go?”

The nurse guided you up and draped a lightweight shawl around your shoulders. “I believe His Majesty is conducting a military inspection. He is accompanied by about ten knights.”

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

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

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

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

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

The blond nobleman curtsied. “Your Imperial Majesty, it is an honor to be in your presence.”

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

Nanami spoke cautiously, his eyes fixed on the codex. “Of some medical writings and scientific treatises. Rumors are circulating about a mysterious outbreak in a remote village in Constantia, a city within the grand duchy of Valoria. It seems to be an illness that is spreading rapidly with only a 2% chance of survival. I hear they are calling it the ‘Black Death’ due to the appearance of gangrene. Considering the trade routes, that city lies along the Veridian Sea, which is a path taken by the ship that trades metals and minerals with us. They engage in that route due to Constantia’s involvement with the slave trade, boarding the ship bound for Caelum for the metals and minerals, while ferrying their slaves all the way to Astheryn, their largest buyer.”

As if the gods were with you!

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

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

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

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

The moue you displayed on your face could not be stopped. “Does His Majesty know of these rumors in Valoria that you speak of?”

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

“No, you are not going to do so,” you commanded sternly, surprising him in turn. “You will not breathe a word of this to Satoru. Follow my orders, and you shall be duly rewarded.”

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

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

“And do you believe I lack the authority to issue commands as an empress?” You raised an eyebrow at him, and his stance became more apologetic. “Proceed with the trade by any means necessary. I will sign the permit, and the ship shall arrive as planned next Monday. Let us not allow rumors of illness to hinder us from obtaining the necessary metal from the city of Constantia. As you said, we require ample supplies for our weaponry. We must seize this opportunity to bolster our arms. Do not mention this to His Majesty, and if you dare, you shall face the punishment of having your tongue cut out.”

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

You pressed your hand firmly against the table and asserted your authority over him. “I have control over a couple of remote islands near the outskirts of Caelum. Surely, you are familiar with them? I will direct my father, the Grand Duke, to transfer one of the larger estates to you. Furthermore, I shall offer you a quarter of my jewels and 15000 celestas as a deposit. In return, I request that you retire from your position and refrain from conversing with my husband ever again.”

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

“This or punishment is your only option,” you declared, eyes burning with fire. “Choose wisely.”

⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶♱⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

ACT VII

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He is nothing but a fool, you thought inwardly as you watched your husband dismiss a mere count. Satoru must not have realized that those he considered of lower ranking were often the most loyal to him. They were driven by their wish to climb the upper echelon of high society, therefore, they would go to great lengths to gain recognition from the emperor. Conversely, if push comes to shove, those of higher statuses would be the first ones to turn their backs on the imperial family, as they already possessed the wealth and status to sustain their own estates and exclude themselves from the rest of the empire.

“Lords and Ladies, esteemed guests, and subjects of my realm,” Satoru spoke with gracious authority as he stood by his throne, looking down on the nobility before him, “I stand before you on this very occasion, the commencement of a new year, to address the empire that rests beneath my unwavering rule. As your Emperor, I look upon the vast land that stretches beneath me, and aim to build great cities, forge mighty alliances, and expand our dominion to the farthest reaches of the known world. Tonight, we gather not merely to celebrate the turning of the calendar, but to reaffirm the absolute authority that guides our great empire.

Let it be known, plainly and honorably, that the prosperity of this realm is intrinsically tied to the strength of its ruler. In my hands, I hold the reins of power, and I shall steer this ship through tumultuous waters with an unshakable resolve. Those who seek to challenge the stability of our empire will find themselves met with the full force of imperial might.

Let this banquet serve as a reminder—a celebration of the empire’s indomitable strength and an acknowledgment of the consequences that befall those who dare to defy it. Raise your goblets high, my loyal subjects, for we embark upon another year under the banner of unassailable authority.”

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

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

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

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

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

“What troubles you?” he asked, holding your waist and your hand as you both gracefully danced in pavane. His hair was neatly brushed away from his forehead tonight, with a few stubborn strands dangling on the side. “You are unusually quiet.”

You stared at his bright blue eyes coruscating under the chandeliers, noticing how his gaze wandered to a noble lady. “It is of no concern to you.”

Satoru then narrowed his eyes at your coldness. “It concerns me greatly. What foolish game are you playing?”

“A foolish act of playing the role of your wife,” you replied, brief and stern. “Does this banquet please you? I have invited the empire’s most beautiful and eligible ladies to be your concubines. All of noble birth and of age, so fret not. You may choose anyone to your liking. May the best suit you.”

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

You scoffed, and then laughed out loud to the point where it gained the curious stares of the nobles. “Search everywhere, and perhaps your eager eyes may find them,” you replied with absolute delight. “But that is all they shall be—mere concubines. If you prefer someone younger than me and a virgin, that is also possible—”

“Do not get smart with me,” Satoru warned, grabbing a tight hold of your chin. The muscles along his jaw tensed. “You are but a petulant wench, a mere ornament beside my throne, lacking the wit and wisdom to grasp the gravity of imperial decree. The issue of remarriage is not a subject for jest. Know your place, woman, and consider the consequences of your impudence.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That is rich coming from a usurper himself!” you countered, satisfied by the spasm of irritation crossing his face. “Have as many concubines and courtesans as you wish, but never disrespect me in front of my people. Do not treat me as if I am lower than a mistress simply because I have not borne you a child. Do not dare to look down upon me, for I am an empress first, before I am your wife.”

What kind of psychopath was that man, truly?

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

And with that disrespect would soon come his downfall.

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ACT VIII

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

Or could this be the dreaded prophecy coming to life?

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

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

Love?

How preposterous. Love was no gift.

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

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

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

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

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

His lips may have curled upwards into a smirk, but his eyes were as terrifyingly sharp as ever. “Do you want to die?”

Her eyes widened in surprise, feigning her innocence as she received his warning. “No, Your Majesty! I do not wish so.”

“Why do you presume your body to be more desirable than the empress’s?” he challenged, aiming to deflate her pride and turn her foolishness to his advantage. She would serve as the perfect pawn to regain his wife’s favor. “My wife has the most flawless figure I have seen in a woman, and yours is what? Do you boast of your breasts that resemble a cow’s?”

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

Satoru shook his head in amusement. “What is your aim, then, if not to manipulate me into bedding you? I do not associate with trollops.”

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

“Get on your knees,” he ordered, stepping out of the tub and wrapping his bare body with a robe. “Are you certain of that?”

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

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

It did look like she found her way out of his criticism by directing his ill-temper towards his wife. “Your Majesty, I do not mean to slander your wife. However, it is true that Her Majesty is engaged in an affair with your commander of knights! I saw the empress and Sir Suguru in an intimate embrace some days ago, hurrying through the halls as if they did not wish to be seen!”

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

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

The servant's gaze faltered under the weight of the emperor's scrutiny, but she remained resolute. “Your Majesty, I speak only of what I have witnessed with my own eyes. By my oath and by the sanctity of God, I swear upon all that is sacred, it is no lie.”

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

“Undress yourself. I want you bare and without any clothing,” he said, his voice cold and measured, “And you shall remain in this chamber until my return.”

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

She would never again have to suffer as a servant!

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

“Are you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The emperor then turned to you as he continued with his speech. “As for you, my wife, you have been accused of a betrayal that, if true, would bring shame upon the imperial family.” He paused, his expression grave yet contemplative. “Therefore, I shall leave the judgment and punishment of this matter in your hands. Only you know the truth of these accusations, and it is your virtue and integrity that will determine our course of justice.”

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

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

“How do you feel about it, Empress?” Satoru asked, his demeanor strangely calm. “Perhaps we could administer ten or twenty lashes? Or have her confined to the dungeons?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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ACT IX

Your head ached.

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

“Are you certain?”

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

“How is that possible? We have tried for eight long years.”

“We owe this blessing to God, my liege. Your desire for an heir has been granted.”

You were… with child?

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

But what about your revenge?

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

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

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

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

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

“Am I no longer useless to your eyes?” you asked, carrying a hint of sadness on your tone despite smiling at him. “Will I no longer bear the title of a barren empress?”

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

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

Knock, knock!

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

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

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

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

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

“Estimated at about 1000 units, my liege.”

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

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

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

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

“Empress, it is of utmost importance that you remain within the safety of His Majesty’s chamber," Suguru advised, his fox-like eyes seemingly enamored by your face. “Your well-being is paramount, particularly at this moment. I understand now why you have been looking so radiant.”

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

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

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

“Suguru, I expect you to be loyal to me until the very end,” you interrupted his reverie, bringing him back to the present. “Can I count on that from you?”

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

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

“My liege, it is not what you think,” Suguru swore to your husband, who was now laughing maniacally.

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

You shook your head, maintaining your composure. “He is telling the truth. There is no affair—”

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

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

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

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

You shot him a look of disbelief, refusing to entertain such absurd accusations. “You are talking nonsense!”

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

“My wife thinks I am lost in a mire of absurdity?” Satoru’s laugh rang in your ears again. “Conniving bitch! Tell me, what am I to do with this wretched child you carry? Shall I slice open your belly and rip it out myself?”

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

“Hold that tongue, you impudent wench!” With a rough hand, he grabbed your arm and tightened his hold so much so that it would leave bruises. “Here I stand, grappling with a war that has the power to shape or shatter my own legacy, while my own wife wanders about like a wanton whore?”

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

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

His answer was a make or break.

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

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

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

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

⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶♱⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

ACT X

Four days.

Or perhaps five?

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

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

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

So that left you with one person: Lord Maximilian.

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

You laughed. Good for him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

What a hypocrite you were!

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

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

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

“Y/N.”

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

“Your trial is scheduled for tomorrow,” he spoke deliberately, though you avoided meeting his gaze. “I have a proposal for you.”

You remained silent.

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

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

“Ha ha ha!”

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

“Ha ha ha ha!”

His eyebrows furrowed in anger. “Empress!”

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

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

“Are you aware of your current standing?!” He was livid. Oh, he certainly was.

Yet you? You smiled. You offered him a beautiful, sarcastic smile. “No soul in this empire will love you except for me! All are foes to you, except for me! I alone have loved you for you. Think about that, my misguided husband, for in your quest for power, you have forsaken the one who loved you sincerely.”

⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶♱⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

ACT XI

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“His Majesty, Emperor Satoru, has been consulting with an oracle,” you declared, silencing the entire hall with your revelation, “He keeps the old lady hidden deep in the dungeon. Do you all hear me? The emperor of this nation is involved in heresy and must face an inquisition!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Finally, the tyrant was back.

You were sick of his sympathetic gazes.

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

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

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

Who would have guessed that you held such notoriety?

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

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

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

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

⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶♱⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

ACT XII

A month has passed since your execution.

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

The emperor was secretly grieving the loss of his wife.

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

Was this still not an act of love?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The emperor looked at his advisor.

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

Ha ha ha ha!

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

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

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

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

That damned prophecy!

That, that was what led to all of this!

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

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

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

⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶♱⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

EPILOGUE

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

#꒰ঌ lilith’s recs ໒꒱

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megumiivs · 7 months ago

Text

𝐁𝐀𝐃 𝐃𝐎𝐆

pairing. sub!werewolf!toji fushiguro x dom!gn!reader

synopsis. stories and fables always warn of the big bad wolf, but personally, you think he makes quite a cute pet.

content. PORN WITH PLOT YAYY, no curses/modern/alternate magic au, bratty asf sub!toji, mean dom!reader, reader is super strong and beats toji’s ass lol, canon-typical violence, cigarette smoking, outdoor sex, degradation, brat-taming, mild pet play, shoe humping, cock stepping, pain kink, s/m dynamic, handjob, edging, pet (?) names (darling, sweetheart [receiving; condescendingly] + pup, puppy, puppy dog [giving; also condescendingly]), anal fingering, spit and cum as lube, spanking, reader refers to themself as ‘master’ once, morally grey + dubcon ending

notes. finally finished!! thank you for your patience til now :,) this fic kinda ran away from me while i was writing it so it’s different to what i initially planned but hopefully people are still into it. also it’s my first time writing toji so i hope i did him justice!! anyway, please consider reblogging if you enjoy<3

wc. 9.2k

The footsteps started when you were about halfway home.

In sync with yours. Heavy yet carefully quiet, faint but noticeable, at least to someone who goes on walks in the woods as often as you. Human, as well — too calculated not to be — and someone with a broader gait, by the sounds of it.

After a few moments of inner-debate, you stop. The footsteps stop too.

Your eyes swiftly scan your surroundings. Nothing — but you keep your guard up as you slip a cigarette out of the tin in your coat’s breast pocket, then a lighter from your trouser pocket. Between your lips, you rest the cigarette and cup your hand over the lighter’s flame. Its warmth is intimate against your cold skin, in both its temperature and familiarity. The thin misty stem of scorched tobacco blooms in the air.

You absentmindedly dig a little divot in the dirt with the tip of your shoe, and chance another curt look around you, but still nothing. Minutes tick by and eventually you decide to resume your walking, though at a more leisurely pace this time. And as you do so, those footsteps return — tenfold. Soft, distant taps turn into violent hits against the earth. Nearer and nearer they draw, but you keep facing forward, not a stutter in your step or a falter in the lazy in and out of smoke.

Until a looming presence enters your peripheral vision.

A blur is your only warning. Then an arm cinches around your throat.

You jab your lit cigarette into the man’s arm. A raspy, “Son of a bitch,” puffs into your ear, but he doesn’t let go.

Okay. Don’t panic. Focus.

You try again. Spread your stance. Secure your grip. Jump, legs in the air, and throw yourself back down. His body hunches over yours. You propel back up. Hurl him over your back.

He grunts as his body slams the ground. You rush to immobilise him. He manoeuvres out of the way.

Back on his feet in seconds, he’s already charging at you. Too fast for you to dodge. You block with your arms. His fist lands like a nuclear bomb. Pure power. All at once. Leaves aftershocks like an earthquake. But still, you stay standing.

Your assailant huffs, something that sounds both pissed off and surprised, before he directs another attack. Straight for your torso.

You catch his wrist and twist it. He thrusts a leg out at your feet.

The forest around you flips upside down. Your back and the ground collide. Pain in your spine. A shadow above you. Weight on your hips. Pressure around your neck.

You grip one of your attacker’s arms. Pivot your feet round his legs. Ram your pelvis upward.

Your vision carousels. You’re on top of him. He pushes you off.

On your feet. Both of you.

A narrow miss, the edge of his knuckles swiping past your temple.

You leap back. He surges forward.

You attack before he does — a roundhouse kick to his face.

The assailant’s head spins ninety degrees. He brings a hand up to his nose, sharply inhaling as he touches it, before turning back to you.

He swings again. You knock it away. Strike his diaphragm. Then his skull.

He doubles over. You double down. Spear your knee into his face. Once. Twice. Three times. Full force, no respite. You aim for his diaphragm again with the heel of your foot.

He stumbles backwards and hits a tree. His body slumps to the ground.

He goes to get up. You pin your shoe to his sternum and shove him back. “Stay down.” You lean forward, his rib cage fighting against the compression. “Who are you? Why are you attacking me?”

Blood oozes down his chin from his nose. “Why d’ya think I’d tell you anything?”

You answer with a backhanded smack across his face.

He coughs at the impact and spits out the blood in his mouth. “Feisty, aren’t ya?” His lips stretch into a vengeful smile, laying bare his orange-stained teeth.

That’s when you notice a distinguishable scar, thick and ridged, spliced through his lip. Next, his teeth — tapered, dog-like. Then the pointy mammal ears sticking out of his hair, the furry black tail resting beside him…

There’s no doubt in your mind. It’s him. World renowned assassin: Hellhound, the Sorcerer Killer. Half-man, half-wolf; rumoured to be the only one of his kind. Willing to do anything for the right price is his motto. Until now, you’ve only ever heard of him, but now that you’re face to face… Well, he certainly looks the part, but if he was really as good as people say he is, your current positions would likely be reversed.

“I take it my reputation precedes me?” Toji pipes up cockily, apparently picking up on the recognition in your stare.

You avoid the question, lest it feeds the ego that is undoubtedly big enough already. “How much are you getting paid?”

Toji wipes the blood under his nose and looks up at you. “Not enough to be dealing with all this, tha’s for sure,” he remarks snidely.

You fold your arms across your chest. “Then I’m sure you won’t mind giving me the details of your employer.”

“Nah,” Toji argues back with slitted eyes and a chin angled up arrogantly. “Afraid I’m bound by contract, sweetheart.”

You smack him again, but all it does is garner a chuckle.

“If slapping me’s as far as you’re willin’ to go to get me to talk,” Toji scoffs before gazing up at you, “then we’re gonna be here a while, darlin’.”

Eyes narrowed, you contemplate other courses of action, different methods of both torture and persuasion.

As if embracing his current position, Toji rests back against the tree, casual despite the circumstances being everything but. “Look. You’re not gonna get me to rat out my client, alright? So unless you wanna start talking numbers, I suggest you just give–”

Your boot stomps down on Toji’s groine.

His jaw drops open and an almost inaudible moan spills out. “Ah… fuck.”

Not quite the reaction you were going for. Still, you curiously lean your leg forward, pressing the sole of your shoe down harder against Toji’s crotch. His head slumps forward, dark hair curtaining over his eyes. A barely-suppressed groan finds its way out of him.

“No way,” you breathe, incredulous. “You like this, don’t you?” You stifle a laugh. “What, not every day you get your ass handed to you, huh? I bet you didn’t even know you were into this.”

He peers up at you, grin flashing like a switchblade. “Don’t act like you’re any better.”

“Oh, I don’t have to act like it.” You roll your foot around in focused circles, watching how Toji’s breath gets heavier with each one. Your silhouette towers over him, tall and proud; carving its shape into the veil of moonlight behind you. All your features melt away in the shadows draped over your face — all except your smile, which perseveres with deadly determination and even deadlier teeth. They’re not anything special, sure; they don’t hold a light to Toji’s, yet they instil a sense of unease that someone of his size and strength and species is entirely unfamiliar with. And as he watches your tongue glide across the edge of them, shining and sinister, he realises that maybe it’s not the teeth themselves that are the threat. Maybe it’s what lies behind them; the person they belong to, who is staring down at him like a tiger eyeing a pound of flesh.

“You’re the one whose pitiful dick is under my boot right now, after all.”

Matted black ears tuck back against his head, just as any cornered animal’s might, as Toji scowls up at you. “Shut up. You have no idea what you’re dealing with.”

You look him up and down, from the tips of his twitchy ears to the bottom of his fluffy tail. The pinkening of his cheeks, his glossy eyes staring up at you. Puppylike. “I’d say I have a pretty good idea actually,” you say, holding in a giggle.

Toji snarls. “I’m warning y…” A breathy moan slips past his defences, so delicate you’d never suspect it could come from a man as big and burly as him. “Fuck– fuck you. If you’re gonna touch me, at least do it properly, you fucking… coward.”

His glare melts into scrunched eyebrows and squeezed-shut eyes as you sink more pressure onto his cock.

“Why would I do that? You seem to be enjoying yourself just fine like this,” you tease, and follow it with a quickened but not yet fast pace; something steady enough to not be teasing but slow enough to keep him wanting.

Toji growls. “Bastard,” he spits, but the word’s intention is lost in the air that flutters around it, turning it soft and feeble as his jaw quivers. Another brief second of honesty, a momentary crack in his composure, but that locked jaw returns as soon as Toji notices it. The look on his face is unchanged, but you’re not sure if it’s because he truly believes he’ll come out on top by the end of this, or if he’s just waiting for you to prove you’re worthy of his surrender.

“It’s not enough,” he pants out. His hands clench into fists around the soil he sits in as his hips move against your shoe. It’s still not discreet enough to go unnoticed by you — though you opt to avoid mentioning it, in favour of continuing down the path of opportunity he’s already opened up for you with his response.

“No, I think it is,” you insist, syncing your foot’s movements to Toji’s hips. Already so lost in the moment, he doesn’t even realise it. “I think you could cum just like this, riding my shoe like a worthless whore.”

Clawed fingers and calloused palms constrict around your calf. The tightness of his grip gives the impression that he’s trying to stop you, but you can feel the way he uses it to meet his grinding motions.

It’s quite the show, really. A man — a beast — like Toji, beneath you in such a way, with his eyes closed in oblivious concentration, his lips parted ever so slightly and his strained breaths hot against your shin. Dark lashes on rosy cheeks. Hair swept across his eyes, shifting with every movement.

It’s too bad it can’t last.

What you said certainly implies that you plan to make him finish like this, but all it really is is a trap. No beast can truly resist temptation, after all, and Toji is no different. He’ll pretend to hate every second of this, but there is no denying that the only reason you’ve gotten this far is because he wants it. Desperately. Carnally. He might scowl at your degrading words, but in the end, he chases after the promise that’s whispered over their shoulder, the promise that he longs for so deeply that he doesn’t realise its hushed voice is really his own in disguise.

You rake your fingers through his hair, collecting sweat and the strands obscuring his face into a fist. A yank drags his face into the moonlight, and a groan from his throat. “Alright, that’s enough,” you declare, the words cutting and final. “Get off me, fleabag.”

Toji’s lip curls up in a snarl and his canines gleam beneath the pale skin. “The fuck d’ya mean ‘that’s enough’?”

You scoff. “Exactly that.” Darkness drips over Toji’s face as you lean over him. “Now get off of me before I fucking make you.”

For a second, you think you’ll need to repeat yourself one more time — his eyes are narrowed and his lips pursed, a look of reluctance if you’ve ever seen it — but then the hands around your leg loosen, until all that’s left behind is the autumn breeze against the lingering imprint of his warm palms. The grin you find yourself wearing is so wide you feel your teeth pressing through your lips. A brat’s obedience, no matter how small, is always a victory worth celebrating.

“So what now?” Toji sighs and leans back on his hands, legs still spread. Boredom sculpts his features, but the colour in his cheeks betrays his façade. Try as he might, he’s not nearly as good at hiding his true desires as he thinks. And when you only smile in response, he raises an eyebrow. “Well?” A scarred hand confidently slides down to the space between his thighs, the thick fingers parting and tracing the silhouette of his hard cock. Wolfish fangs pull at his bottom lip and a harsh breath rushes out through his nose. “You just gonna stand there… or are you gonna come and finish what you started?”

You lean your weight back, arms folded across your chest, and chuckle. “I can’t really win, can I?” you say with playful resignation. “Either way, you’ll enjoy it.”

He grins — the kind of shit-eating grin that’s designed to scorch your nerves down to their roots. Whether that’s a good or a bad kind of sensation depends entirely on the person. In Toji’s case? It’s somehow both.

“Better make your choice quick then,” Toji remarks, his tone equal parts raspy and sultry. “If ya don’t hurry, I’ll just finish myself off right here and now.” The tip of his tongue peeks out between his sharp moonlit teeth, mirroring your action from before.

You snicker and give him a pitied once-over. “Darling, I assure you that’s not the threat you think it is.”

Furry ears jerk in place as Toji sucks his teeth. “Get down here and suck my cock before I rip your throat out then.” The words tumble out of him like he’s rushing to get them out — evidence of his growing desperation, or perhaps of his courage, waning in the imminent promise of consequence.

“There,” he says with finality, lips stretched into a half-cocky, half-frustrated snarl. “‘That threatenin’ enough for ya now, bitch?”

You swiftly snatch his face up in one hand and Toji flinches — just a split-second scrunch of his eyes, but it’s enough to tell you caught him off guard. You’re not really acting out of anger so much as greed though; craving and chasing after those tiny yet monumentally satisfying slip-ups in his reactions. “You are awful mouthy for some dog that was humping my foot until a minute ago.”

“Yeah, and?” he barks back, with enough gall to still be smiling against your palm. “What are you gonna do about it, huh?”

Suppressing another laugh, you draw closer to him; not quite eye-level, just ever so slightly elevated. “You know, it’d be kind of cute how badly you want me to fuck you if you weren’t so fucking insufferable about it.” Your nails, though blunt in comparison to Toji’s claws, carve impressive crescents into his skin under the force of your tensed fingers. “But don’t forget that you’re below me, mutt. I can stop any time. I can go home and never think about you again, but you?” You laugh through your nose and push his skull into the bark of the tree behind him. A clawed hand clamps around your wrist, but you don’t move an inch. “You’ll be the one jerking off in the middle of a fucking forest, like some filthy creep, fantasising about all the things I didn’t do to you but could have had you just stopped being a brat for one goddamn second.”

An airy breath leaves you, charged with equal parts exasperation and glee and resulting in something akin to a laugh. The mockery behind the noise fails to affect Toji, however. Those night-black ears remain flat against his skull, and those indigo eyes remain glaring at you, but the tightly-sealed lips below them tell you he’s biting his tongue — figuratively, though perhaps also literally. It doesn’t seem too far of a stretch to assume he’d go to such lengths to keep from arguing back, after all.

You smooth your free hand over your hair and readjust the grip of the other on Toji’s face. He grunts at the action, but those lips don’t budge, not even a twitch. The silence that follows is unfamiliar, but not completely unwelcome. Even rewarding, in a way.

“So what’s it gonna be, puppy dog?” you ask lazily, though not without that telltale flicker of amusement in your voice. “Are you gonna be a good boy?” You tilt your head and smirk. “Or would you prefer to jizz here in the dirt with just your hand and imagination like a pathetic loser instead?”

You feel how he grinds his teeth, that slow mechanical shift of his jaw and the muffled chalky sound of bone grating against bone in his mouth. Curiosity beckons you to wonder what’s going on inside that head of his; what words he’s rummaging through his mind for, what kind of responses he’s drafting and redrafting, if any at all. What does a beast of his calibre have to say to a lowly human like you, daring to tame and subdue him?

In the darkness below your form, you catch a cautionary rise and fall of his hips. Just one small short nudge of his pelvis, forwards then back again. And before you can comment on it, Toji speaks, low and not entirely begrudgingly:

“Put me in my place then.”

Immediately, your lips slide into a smile, but you restrain from getting too excited just yet. “Is that an order? Or a plea?”

Midnight eyes dart away from yours; no words follow.

“Well? Answer me,” you snap at him. “You can do it now or I can just leave, remember? Either option is fine by me.”

Toji groans. “It’s… I’m– I’m asking.” He sighs heavily and the hand around your wrist loosens, twitches. He still refuses to look at you amidst this all, it seems. But you wait some more, let the silence linger a little longer, just in case.

He sighs again. Still doesn’t look at you, but a quiet little, “Please,” squeezes through gritted teeth.

“Can I get that in a full sentence?” you say, polite enough to seem genuine at first, but paired with that condescending grin of yours, it’s not at all convincing. “I just want to be sure I’m understanding you correctly.”

Toji’s eyes finally return to yours. “You’re pushing your fucking luck,” he growls.

“Oh, I am? I’m pushing my luck?” You pause, but not to let him answer; on your face is a look that tells him he’s the one pushing his luck, that he’s misstepped — and should take that step back before he regrets it. “Sorry, who’s doing who a favour by being here, again?” You’re no longer smiling, but the condescension in your tone remains. “Remind me because I seem to have forgotten.”

His eyes flick away and you’re met instead with the silence you have grown somewhat fond of.

Then, eventually: “You,” he answers and his Adam’s apple bumps against your wrist as he swallows. “I want you to…” He hesitates, tense neck muscles relaxing in your hand, eyes closing, pressing shut. Hard. Reluctant, even now.

“To put me in my place… Please.”

A sickeningly delighted snicker escapes your throat. “Well done, puppy,” you praise, giving a few patronising pats to his cheek, making Toji flinch, before you let go of his face. “I knew you could do it! Who’s a good boy?” You ruffle his hair alongside your fake coo to rub salt into his wounded ego.

Toji sucks his teeth, refusing to give you the satisfaction of anything other than that as a reaction to your satirical tease. You just hum to yourself gleefully. You’re happy either way — you have him right where you want him, after all.

You stand up straight, returning to your position above him. “Alright. Be a doll and take your pants off for me.”

A scarred lip tugs up toward his cheekbone, canine teeth peering out. “No ‘please’?”

Easy as that, the cheerful expression on your face distils into stone cold eyes and unmoving lips, leaving the wordless air to speak for you. Briskly after, Toji begins sliding off his black pants until they bunch up at his ankles. He looks up at you. “Want my shoes off too, perv?” he jokes, proudly grinning.

Ignoring him, you step over his legs, so your feet are either side of them, then sit down. His thighs squirm under you.

“Uh, what–”

“Be quiet,” you demand.

And for once, Toji does so without further hesitation or questioning.

Your fingertips trail down his torso, his skin spasming under the fabric of his t-shirt at the featherlight contact. Down his chest, stomach, navel, catching on the waistband of his underwear, passing over it. Fingers dance and butterfly around the outline of his cock and back again. Slow and gentle but purposeful touches. His chest stutters, his abdominal muscles contract. You continue, motions repeating in hypnotic succession of one another like shifting waves. The thighs beneath you begin to fidget again.

“Stay still,” you say with a pointed look.

A restrained groan. “When are you gonna–”

“Whenever I damn well feel like it,” you scold, “but not at all if you don’t watch yourself.” You make sure to give him another sharp glare before you resume.

Elastic gives under the pull of your fingers and glides down his hips until they tuck under his balls. Cool air envelopes his cock and yanks a hiss out from between Toji’s teeth. Your fingers spread again, over the exposed tip, then back again to paint small circles around the wet slit.

A blunt thump brings your attention to Toji’s face, where the foliage above projects its fragile forms onto it. His head is tilted back against the tree behind him, mussed furry ears flush against the bark and restlessness manipulating the rest of his features. The shameless clarity of his struggle fans the flames of your excitement.

Your fingers change shape again and wrap loosely around Toji’s length. The edge of a harsh sigh catches on the ends of your hair, brushing it up as you move your hand down, and up, then down again. The writhing of his thighs dominoes into his hips, which jump up, seemingly involuntarily.

Just this once, you choose not to indulge in your own selfish enjoyment — as a reward for his almost exclusively obedient behaviour since you began touching him — and mercifully grant Toji the relief of your whole hand, curling it to fit around the shape of his dick. A half-cut-off gasp unfolds in the space between you, but nothing more. You smile nonetheless. “Does that feel good?”

Toji’s head adjusts against the tree, eyelids pinching and tightening. “What kinda question is that? F’course it does.”

You hum. “Just wanted to make sure you’re still responsive.”

Toji opens his eyes, hooded but still catching the moonlight, to flash you a confident look. “You won’t break me that easily.”

Yet his self-assured tone cracks when you suddenly tighten your grip around him and hasten your pace.

“Wait, don’t– not that fast–” He gasps and reaches for your wrist, but you swat it away. You change the pace again, and again. Soft, hard, slow, quick. And all Toji can do is mutter expletives and squeeze his fists around handfuls of dirt.

“I’m… close,” Toji warns breathily.

“Really?” you snort. Granted, you’d teased him for a while before this, but you’re still shocked. He must have been more into this than even you had noticed. “You must be popular in the bedroom, huh?” you quip. “They call you Two-Minute-Toji?”

Thick eyebrows furrow as a half-hearted snarl seeps out from Toji’s lips. “God, do you ever shut–” He moans and grabs at your thighs, the tips of his claws piercing through your clothing. “I’m gonna cum, oh, fuck–”

Your touch vanishes before Toji’s words can come true, allowing you to watch the ecstasy melt off his face in real time. A series of emotions pass through in its place: first confusion, then realisation until, finally, disappointment. Outrage. Desperation.

Maybe you’re just sadistic, but you find it to be a good look on him.

In the spur of the moment, Toji attempts to finish what you so cruelly and prematurely left incomplete, but you capture his wrists and raise up on your knees to pin them above his head.

“Shit!” he exclaims, wide chest still sinking and swelling from his near-high. “What the fuck’s your problem? Why’d you stop?”

Exactly the kind of response you’d expected, of course. An entirely reasonable one at that, but still — you’re unable to fend off the smirk that grows at the sight of it. This is just the start, and he’s already so upset? Shivers take over you at the thought of how unprepared he is for the torture to come.

“You made me work for what I want. It’s only fair I get to do the same to you,” you explain matter-of-factly. “And the sooner you accept that, the easier it will be.”

Toji’s ears flap with vexation; you’re sure he only means to be angry, but to you, he resembles a sulking puppy.

You release his hands and move them to his shoulders. “So here’s how this is gonna go,” you start cheerily. “When you’re close, you tell me. Don’t, and I’ll ruin your beloved orgasm, right then and there!” You pinch his cheek in a faux-flirty way. “Got that, my little mutt?”

Toji frowns with something like judgement. “What sort of sick game is this?”

“Does it really matter so long as you cum at the end?” you counter, but Toji remains unconvinced.

“‘Course it does,” he replies. “What’s the point in making me wait if I can have it now?”

Such simplistic, almost childlike logic; it makes you giggle. “The point is a little thing called delayed gratification,” you say in that typical patronising tone, the one that Toji has become so dreadfully accustomed to.

“Delayed for who?” He eyes you, up and down. “You’re loving every second of this.”

You giggle again. “Oh, come on,” you beckon. “Don’t you want to know how good it feels?” One of your hands drops down his torso and Toji’s eyes follow just in time to see it curl its fingers around the drooling head of his cock. “Being denied over and over, that tension building higher and higher each time…” His jaw quivers when you slowly twist your wrist. “How sensitive you get, how desperate…” You drag and pull. Twist again. “And the rush of not knowing if this time you’ll get to cum…”

Toji grunts as his dick slaps against his stomach.

“Or be denied again!” Your laugh then is inevitable, but still it feels too sweet and innocent of a sound, given the cause of it is a man’s torment.

“Okay, enough. You’ve made your point,” Toji says in a flurry, before you can add anything else. “Stop talking and just…” You hear him swallow and study the way it makes the muscles of his neck ripple. “Show me.”

Those two words are the starting pistol to your well-earned entertainment — and Toji’s well-deserved misery. Your experienced and adaptable hands, paired with your watchful eyes and insatiable desire to inflict suffering, make for a dangerous concoction. And the fact that Toji is oblivious to that knowledge just makes the thrill of it all the more invigorating. Still, you pace yourself; remind yourself that patience may be bitter, but its fruit is sweet and lies waiting for you. Time is the least of your worries and the forest around you topples amidst the routine you’ve choreographed for you both. You work him up, soaking in his helplessness, and pull the floor out from under him when he’s at his most vulnerable, watching how that helplessness snowballs and the cycle repeats; watching him groan, gasp, whimper and curse under his breath. Like a feline playing with its food, you relish every moment of it, all while dreaming of how good it will taste once you finally feast.

“Close, so close, so close,” Toji mumbles. “M’gonna cum–”

Your hand jolts away from his dripping cock and with it, Toji’s hips buck up so hard, so desperately, that your knees lose contact with the ground for a second.

“How many times is that now?” you ask. You already know how many, you just want to make him say it.

Body slack against the tree, Toji’s eyes blink slowly at you. “F–four,” he says with a weak wince. “Fuck. When are you gonna let me cum?”

You make a contemplative noise. “I don’t know,” you say as you boredly doodle patterns on Toji’s shirt. “Maybe after… four or five more times?”

“You’re fucking joking,” Toji chokes out in disbelief, but that sincere gleam in your eyes stays. He runs a palm down his face. You don’t miss the way his tinted face saturates. “That’s– nine times? Are you crazy? That’s not–” His throat feels like it’s all dried up. He steadies his voice. “There’s… no way I’m waiting that long.”

“No?” you echo, your eyebrows raised. “Is it too much to handle for Two-Minute-Toji?”

“Oh, fuck off,” Toji hisses. “It’s nothing to do with me. You’re just insane.”

So defensive, you think, amused, but don’t let it show. Instead, you sit back thoughtfully. “I guess you have a point,” you agree. Meanwhile, your hands gain a mind of their own, caressing his hips, abdomen, inner thighs; brushing up against his dick every so often. “Four times is already quite a lot…” Finally, your gaze falls to your unforgiving fingers, where you’ve been toying at the cusp of Toji’s composure. “Just one more then,” you compromise and glimpse at Toji.

He doesn’t hide the irritated noise he makes at your offer, but he does think twice about his instinctual reply — which ends up being futile, since he chooses to say it anyway.

“You’re delusional if you think I’ll agree to that.”

You tilt your head and blink at him. “So… you want to cum now, is what you’re saying?” you ask, and Toji opens his mouth to answer but you suddenly grab his cock with a tight fist — and not the pleasurable kind. His jaw clamps shut, a slice of whistling air rushing in through his teeth. A paw-like hand whips out next, attempting to get rid of yours, but you slap it away and use your other hand to engulf the head of his cock in just as cruel a hold.

“Would cumming now make the spoiled mutt happy?” you mock.

His attempts to remove your hands persist, but each time you just push him away and squeeze harder. “Ah, shit, that fucking– hurts, you asshole! Let go–”

“Answer the question first,” you say sternly.

Toji’s thighs are thrashing now, and his hands have resorted to clinging onto your arms. His breaths leave him as hard as if he was on the verge of climax; the irony makes you laugh inwardly.

“Fuck, fine,” Toji heaves. “Yes, yes I want to cum now. Let me cum. Please.”

You keep your hands on him for a second longer than probably necessary before finally letting go. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?” you say with a grin.

Talking back again crosses Toji’s mind, but he thinks better of it. “Whatever. Just… get on with it already.”

As with the previous four times, getting him to the edge again doesn’t take long. Especially since now you’re armed with the knowledge of where he’s most sensitive, what he likes best and how much to do of each to get the most debauched sounds out of him. You have him panting and rolling his hips in time with your hands in just a few short minutes. One hand on your shoulder, the other carving gashes into a tree root bulging out of the soil; a reminder of Toji Fushiguro’s monstrous nature.

It’s easy to forget you’re taming a beast when he’s so pathetic all of the time.

“Ah, ah, I’m close,” Toji moans. His knuckles go taut-white, then relax, then repeat. In the throes of pleasure, his baritone voice has softened into something lighter. “F–fuck, I’m gonna cum! I wan– I wanna cum!”

The next upward stroke of your hand slides the rest of the way off, yet again depriving Toji of the orgasm he keeps chasing. In its absence, the reddened tip of his cock drools a drop of precum.

Toji shouts, gravelly and breathless, into the open air. “No! No, what– what the fuck?!” There seems to be a wetness in his eyes, but you think it could just be a trick of the light. “You… you said you’d let me cum this time!”

“Did I say that?” you muse — recalling very vividly, in fact, that you conveniently never said those words. Whether or not that was on purpose is anybody’s guess, since you doubt Toji’s foggy brain remembers such semantics. “I don’t think I did.”

Toji scowls at you, but his aggravation runs off of you like water on a duck’s back; you can’t take him too seriously when his face is so flushed, cheeks practically aglow with colour and slowly spreading down his neck. A quick tongue swipes over his lips, which have gone dry from the progressively increasing frequency of open-mouthed noises.

Out of something akin to instinct or impulse, you find yourself leaning in — close. Until you’re brushing noses, lips only inches from each other, sharing the same breath of air. Silver-blue eyes flick down your face and linger a little too long to be accidental.

You pull away, laughing.

“You are way too fun to toy with,” you mutter, more to yourself than to Toji before looking up at him. “Did you think I was gonna kiss you just then?”

“No,” Toji sputters out, appearing offended that you would even think such a thing. “I’d bite your tongue off if you tried.”

His threat only makes you chuckle. “We’ll see how much longer you can keep up that attitude,” you say, scrunching up the front of his t-shirt in your fist, “once I’m through with you.”

Your lips collide so immediately that you almost don’t realise Toji is the one to close the final rift of space between you. Like a volatile chemical reaction, the kiss escalates. Potent, rabid, vulgar. Animalistic. Teeth nip at flesh, blood and saliva blend and smear down chins.

At the same time, your hand occupies itself with the same delectable song and dance you’ve come to know so well. The prelude — an open palm, skimming across the head of Toji’s cock; a dainty back and forth, like a bow across violin strings, and Toji’s noises a melody writing itself on your lips. You steer the flow of his sound like a conductor with a symphony, building the bridge, climbing towards the chorus, the crescendo just in sight… Then with a flourish, it all descends back down again, hushed into a temporary interlude, before ebbing into a reprise. Over and over, you play this orchestrated tune; over and over and over, until each note has been played to its fullest and rang out into silence.

Eventually, you get up.

Left in your wake, beneath you, Toji is a mess of the man he was. Eyes glazed over. Lips pink and damp. Cock blushing, slick, swollen. Hips jumping in search of relief. It took denying him almost ten times, but regardless, he’s all yours now. Pliant and at your mercy, like a common prey animal.

“Roll over, boy,” you say, just like you would to an actual dog, as you make a circling gesture with your finger. “I want you on your hands and knees.” You tap his bare thigh with the side of your shoe. “Go on. Hands and knees. Like a good little dog.”

Shakily, Toji turns around. Soil pools around his knees where they sink. One hand wraps around that same scratched up root from before, the other braces against the base of the tree. His head hangs limp between his shoulders.

You kneel behind him and tug his underwear down his toned thighs. Goosebumps multiply over Toji’s exposed skin, first at the breeze that briefly grazes it, next at the fingers that replace it. Both your hands span out across the expanse of Toji’s ass, a soothing sensation against the goosebumps despite being so foreign to him. Your thumbs wander away from the rest of your fingers and toward the patch of skin between his tail and the base of his spine. Experimentally, the pads of your thumbs grind down into it.

Toji makes a noise that could arguably be classified as a yelp and his tail bushes up, almost hitting you in the face with how skittishly it swings out.

“W–watch it,” Toji whinges. “Don’t be so rough.”

“Oh? Is it sensitive?” you taunt.

Even now, on all fours with his bare ass in front of you, the embers of Toji’s pride prevent him from admitting even the slightest implications of weakness. You, however, are no stranger to such behaviour, and do not let it deter you from your goal.

Your thumbs continue wandering, dipping below his tail. They rotate inward, pulling apart the thick meat of his ass to reveal a soft, puckered hole. You succumb to temptation and prod at it. It tenses, along with the rest of Toji’s muscles.

Toji turns his head over his shoulder. “What are you doing?” he breathes, almost sounding worried or angry, definitely trying to sound assertive — but you can tell he’s more nervous than anything. Flustered, even.

You pause. “Do you want me to stop?”

His features contort, as if perplexed. “It’s weird.” He turns back around. “Don’t even know why you would wanna touch back there.”

The reason is simple to you. “Because it feels good.” Thoughtlessly, you knead your thumb against the virgin hole, observing how it clenches, as if inviting you in. “Inside, I mean,” you clarify.

“Ins– inside?” Toji repeats, like the concept is unfathomable to him. “Like, inside of– me?”

“Yeah,” you deadpan, though, admittedly, you are somewhat entertained. Perhaps he truly is so oblivious that it skews his logical thinking, but you suspect that the true cause is the lust that clouds his mind. Whether from his need for release or from a late-onset sexual epiphany, you find it almost endearing how naïve and innocent his response makes him seem. “So… Can I keep going?”

“Uh…” Toji, subconsciously, it seems, arches his back ever so slightly in your direction. “Yeah, okay,” he mutters.

“In that case,” you usher and place a hand between his shoulder blades, “lower your chest for me some more.”

With the sheer density of muscle fibre beneath your fingertips alone, those defined contours mapped out across his broad back, visible even through his clothes, you expect some resistance — but he gives like freshly fallen snow, without so much as a groan of indignation, and yields his form until he’s flush with the ground.

In this position, he opens up on his own. Hole lewdly exposed, as if presenting to you. His tail hangs over it, out of humiliation or to protect his dignity you assume, but with one simple order, you have Toji holding it out of the way for you, making him appear even more pathetic.

Leaning over him, you trickle some saliva onto Toji’s hole. It spasms as the fluid lands on it.

“Did you just spit on–” Toji cuts himself off with an exasperated sigh. “That’s… fucking disgusting.”

“Your tail seems to think otherwise,” you retort, referring to how the appendage subtly wags.

Toji buries his face in the crook of one arm. “That thing’s got a mind of its own.”

Ever so slightly poking out over the top of his bicep, however, is the scarlet tip of one ear.

You chuckle. “Sure.”

With that, you run a fingertip through the slimy fluid, collecting it from where it started dripping down his taint and spreading it out. Tentatively, you nudge your finger inside. The muscle clenches at the breach.

“Relax,” you tell Toji.

He grunts. “What do you think I’m tryna do?”

A rare streak of sympathy has your other hand reaching down to Toji’s cock and planting a few distracting touches. Slowly, the stiffness around your finger eases up, and steadily, you push past each knuckle until it’s seamlessly tucked away inside.

“How much longer…” A soft moan reverberates in the back of Toji’s throat as your finger pulls out of him. “‘T–til I can cum?”

You hum and give a few slothful pumps. “Between two minutes and two hours.” Toji’s subsequent groan of protest makes your smile stretch out like a cat. “Why? You’re not at your limit, are you?”

“You kidding? I could–” You sneak another finger on the next slide in and Toji shudders, gulps. “I could do this all day,” he finishes quietly.

The hand on his dick stops its task momentarily to lather Toji’s precum over your two fingers. You scissor them attentively, observing Toji’s facial reactions; as much as you can, at least, given he’s concealing them. Luckily, though, it seems you won’t need them anyway, with how the rest of his body is uncovering all those secrets for him — the fingers around his tail flexing, hips rocking back against your fingers, dick leaking incessantly despite your minimal touches. To think he’s already so weak to his lustful desires when you haven’t even skirted that particular place inside him; the one you’ve intentionally been avoiding.

“Are you sure you can take any more?” you tease. “It seems to me like–”

“I can take whatever you give me,” Toji interrupts gratingly.

You wonder if he can hear how ruined he sounds, but suppose that even if he does, he likely doesn’t see the humour in it that you do.

“We’ll see about that.”

After adding some more spit, you’re easing in a third finger. Just as you predicted, Toji’s body wriggles more restlessly under you. Breaths staggering as you bump into the hilt of your fingers. You bend them probingly and it lures out a fluttery moan.

Your eyes flit over Toji’s form, lips taking the shape of a salacious smile. “How are you doing over there?”

But before he has the time to even think of a witty reply, he’s tearing new claw marks into the tree bark and whining out, not unlike a dog in heat — which, in some ways, is not far from reality.

“Wow. I didn’t think you were capable of making a sound like that,” you comment. In truth, you’ve always had a knack for turning even the most unsuspecting of victims into your needy little toys; the only difference between them is how long it takes to do so. “Mind making it again?” you purr.

Regardless of what Toji’s answer may have been — though you predict it would have been something snippy or dismissive — your fingers are once again prying out a frail whine from him as he barely manages to maintain his grip on his tail.

You pull your fingers out, almost all the way, and when you push them back in again, you have your pinky finger join, poking at the edge of Toji’s entrance. “Think you can take one more?”

Toji whimpers at your suggestion. “Fuck, yes please,” he begs — something even you had begun doubting you could get him to do, and so is all the more gratifying to hear.

And just like that, you have the deadly mercenary, Toji Fushiguro, better known as Hellhound, the mighty Sorcerer Killer, riding four of your fingers like he was made for nothing else. Whining and whimpering — two things that no one would believe he did if you told them. Dribbling a puddle of his arousal into the dirt below him even in the absence of your hand. Tail jerking uncontrollably, occasionally slipping from his hold and earning himself an admonishing spank, which only serves to break him down further.

A shaking hand clasps onto your wrist, driving its thrusting motions harder and deeper into himself. “God, I’m gonna cum,” Toji sobs. “Please let me cum, please, please.”

His words make you realise that you never actually answered his question from before. Not really, not seriously. In the grand scheme of things, sure, it was always in your plan to let him cum; an irrefutable certainty. And, as large as your appetite is, you’ve had your fill now — are brimming with it, in fact — but Toji doesn’t know that, and that’s what makes you smile. Even now, you long to overflow with the joy of terrorising him. Even now, you fail to turn a deaf ear to the siren call of your deepest, darkest, most lecherous desires. In all your differences, this weakness, this unquenchable yearning of the flesh, is one that you and Toji are both cursed with.

You lean over the muscular man below you, just enough so your hot breath beats over his back. “Only good dogs get to cum,” you murmur as your fingers bully that awfully euphoric cluster of nerves, “and good dogs can beg better than that.”

Sweat permeates off him in waves and you can’t tell if the goosebumps on his skin are from the outdoor air blowing on the moisture or from the embarrassment of the demeaning act that he’s about to commit, all to appease his meagre human wants.

Cheek trapped against the dirt, Toji’s teeth flash on full display as he whimpers out. “Ahh, fuck, m’sorry… I don’t deserve it… but please let me– let me cum.” Wet eyelashes, all clumped together and satiny, flutter as Toji’s eyes fight to stay open. “M’so sorry. I’ll do anything, please.”

Anything. So vague and all-encompassing; only a small-minded fool would make the mistake of promising ‘anything’. And small-minded fools? Well, you’re not one yourself, but you certainly know your way around making one. And Toji Fushiguro, your latest little project, is no exception, it seems; he may not know it, but he’s just fulfilled a bittersweet prophecy.

Indeed — ‘anything’ is a truly wonderful word.

“Yeah?” Your pace slows until the sight of Toji’s hole, puffy, stretched and clinging around your fingers, is trackable in immensely vivid and erotic detail. “Will you be my little lapdog?” you chirrup, light and honey-sweet, as if to a beloved pet. “Obey my every word, fulfil my every wish? Be mine and no one else’s?”

The precipitation on Toji’s nape glistens as he feverishly nods his head and pushes back harder onto your fingers. “Yes, yes, I will, I am. I’m yours. All yours.”

From the cunning and brutish Hellhound, Killer of Sorcerers, the half-wolf half-man who is both feared and revered for his domineering power and cutthroat personality, you have sculpted a disciplined and docile little plaything. An irredeemable mongrel, whose generous master’s firm, wise hand has trained him into a lovely pet, worthy of being called a…

“Good boy.”

Toji’s tail convulses between his fingers.

You grin. “Go ahead,” you say with a final encouraging slap to Toji’s ass. “Let it all out for me, pup.”

And he does — so abruptly and intensely that his trembling thighs almost give under him, practically held up by your hand on his tail alone. He cries out so loud that drool flies from his lip and his voice is followed by a slight echo on the wind. Soreness is already making itself known in your wrist, but you don’t stop; you milk him for all he’s worth, coaxing out every last drop until Toji is laying in a heap of soil and his own spend, groaning and pushing your hand away.

From your coat, you fish out a handkerchief and wipe your hands. Then you move Toji onto his back to do the same for him. A ritualistic process that brings a kind of peace to your otherwise tireless, whirring thoughts.

“Sit up for me,” you tell Toji, with a pat to his thigh.

With some help, he does. You smile and rummage through your pockets, searching for… Ah, there it is!

You take out the circular object and shift towards Toji. With practised efficiency, you secure it around his neck and lean back to appreciate the sight: sturdy ebony leather with intricately engraved symbols, topped off with silver fastenings. Such a pretty collar looks perfectly at home on him.

“What– what is this?” Toji slurs.

You stand up and stroll a few feet away from Toji, who’s bound to where he is in his weak post-orgasm state. Unhurriedly, you slide out a cigarette and prop it between your lips. In the corner of your eye, you make sure Toji is looking at you before you hover a finger beneath your cigarette. From it, a flame manifests and lights the butt.

Witnessing horror formulate on a face like Toji’s — on the face of a man like Toji — is nothing less than beautiful. You would pay good money to experience it for the first time again; to pinpoint the moment he comes to realise the terrible situation he’s found himself in, so you can cherish it from start to finish, all over again.

“You’re…” Toji’s shocked tone bleeds into one of ire; his wide eyes shrink into slits. “A Jujutsu Sorcerer.”

Wreathed smoke billows out of your mouth as you chuckle. “That’s right.” You cross your arms, menacing eyes flitting over Toji. “And now, you’re my cute little pet.”

“Pet?” Toji scoffs. “I kill your kind for a living. You think I’m just gonna take this shit from you?” Toji’s hands scramble up the tree behind him as he goes to get up. “You’re fucking dead, Sorcerer. Ya hear me? D–”

He yells out as he falls back down, fur standing on end from the scorching pain that pulses out of the collar around his neck. He wheezes and claws at the leather, curved black nails piercing into glowing red runes — but the pain only amplifies. He tries and tries, but the only damage he succeeds to inflict is a few nicks on his own skin.

“I’d be careful if I were you. Brute force just makes the hex stronger,” you warn with a misleadingly charming smirk. “You’re more likely to cut your own throat open before you manage to put a single split in that collar.”

You would know — it’s not the first time you’ve used it — but Toji, stubborn as ever, continues to wrestle against the collar’s spell until he’s purple in the face. Veins bulging and eyes watery. Clambering to his feet only to tumble back down again, like a baby deer learning to walk.

Eventually, though, he does stop — but he wouldn’t be Toji Fushiguro without maintaining that defiant expression, even while in such a pitiful state.

“I do feel sorry for you, you know,” you admit as you approach Toji, who, going by his expression, doesn’t believe you one bit, “but you must understand, I’m the type of person who always gets what they want.”

“And what’s that, huh?” Toji snipes. “F’me to be your fuckin’ sex slave? Someone to play out all your sick fantasies and take your frustrations out on? ‘That it?”

“Silly dog,” you playfully reprimand and roughly tousle Toji’s already dishevelled hair. He snatches his head away from your touch. “The means don’t always signify the end,” you continue as you saunter past Toji. “Just because I used sexual methods doesn’t mean I have sexual intentions.”

Toji glares at you, half puzzled and half — just straight up pissed. “So what then? What do you want from me?”

Your lips curve around the cigarette before you exhale with a cloudy chuckle. “Oh, you really are adorable sometimes, you know that?”

“Stop fuckin’ around and tell me already,” Toji snarls, teeth bared.

Blatantly dismissing his words, you gradually walk back to Toji and tilt forward over him. “Feisty, aren’t you?” you sneer at him — a callback to the same words he said to you at the start of your encounter. And one that Toji recognises, going by his strained composure. “It’s simple really,” you say conversationally as you straighten back up. “I heard the name ‘Hellhound’, saw the word ‘anything’ next to ‘for the right price’ and I was intrigued. I wanted to have you for myself. To tame the wild beast, defeat the undefeated ‘Sorcerer Killer’. That’s all.” You shrug. “I’m just fortunate I could afford such a conquest.” You smirk down at him. “You sure know how to drive a hard bargain, don’t you, puppy?”

Toji swallows, the action undulating through his throat. His tongue flicks out over his lips. His eyebrows knit densely. “You hired me?”

You blink at him. “Was that not obvious?” you say with a bashful laugh. “Ah, I really did try not to seem too prepared but I’m just a humble Sorcerer! Not an actor.”

As if still processing what’s happening, Toji just stares at you. You half-expect him to blow up any second, but that doesn’t discourage you from provoking him a little more. “I know what you’re thinking,” you say, and on its own, it’s true, but it’s more fun to pretend that it’s not. “Don’t worry, you’ll still get the second half of the deposit, even though– you know, I’m still alive.”

You laugh again and Toji’s eye twitches at the repetitive sound. He doesn’t see what you find so fucking funny that you need to laugh every five seconds but he wishes you’d just shut up already.

“You’re outta your fucking mind,” he whispers bitterly, like a too-late realisation.

“I am, aren’t I?” you quip back with a beaming closed-eye grin. “But don’t act like you’re any better.” Another callback, and just in case it doesn’t ring any bells, you press your shoe down on Toji’s crotch, where the head of his still-pink cock pokes out of his underwear, on display through his unzipped trousers. Like a panther pouring out of the shadows, your teeth reveal themselves from behind your lips in a hungry, bordering on starved, smile. “I’m not the one who’s got a second hard-on right now.”

Your acknowledgement persuades a drop of precum to shyly gather at the tip, triggering an even more shy press of thighs around your shoe. When that fails to sufficiently conceal his shame, Toji grits his teeth and whips his head away from you — but you won’t allow that.

After a final puff of smoke, you grasp Toji’s face and force it back into place: laid bare before you, tear tracks on his dirtied cheeks, dried blood under his nose, eyelashes still shiny with the evidence of his desperation. “Be a good pet,” you say as you hover your burning cigarette above his lips, “and open your mouth for your master.”

His teeth gnash together stubbornly, but, ultimately, he follows your command. Jaw falling open, tongue drooping over his lip, eyes gazing up at you, expectant and waiting. Eagerly waiting.

You make him wait no longer; you bring down the lit end of your cigarette onto Toji’s inviting tongue and twist it. The embers hiss and sizzle, branding a small scarlet circle into the pink muscle. As you pull out the cigarette, satisfied, you tell him:

“That’s my good boy.”

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