#she found her own path
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we-were-made-of-stars-once · 9 months ago
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How is everyone forgetting the VERY first Dislyte characters to be this dynamic?! It's obviously Ollie and Anita from the very first Dislyte event The Lone Star. I will die on this hill.
WHO and who is the Dislyte universe?
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fluffylord · 7 days ago
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Look how far I went, for fear of losing you.
#they’re my roman empire#and hell bent isn’t just an episode it’s the breaking point the emotional explosion#It’s where everything gets flipped upside down when it comes to love sacrifice and pushing moral boundaries#It’s the Doctor at his most vulnerable and powerful like at the same time#he’s not just some space traveler anymore he’s a person torn apart by his own contradictions battling his nature his past traumas#his fight with himself with Gallifrey with a world that doesn’t get his pain – it’s a cry of despair straight from his soul#and that cry? It’s all because of her#the Doctor’s ready to go to any extreme step over all the moral lines he used to stand for#It’s about keeping her alive#It’s scary and mesmerizing at the same time#his love isn’t romantic in the normal way it’s more like a raging storm capable of anything to keep the person he loves safe from harm#It’s not a calm harbor it’s a hurricane tearing everything in its path#every move he makes every time he tries to touch her to hold her to protect Clara it’s soaked in this crazy all-consuming love#he’s almost obsessed with it like he’s ready to rewrite reality break every law possible just so she stays alive#and it’s not just about being attached it’s an addiction fueled by the pain of loss and the fear of feeling that pain again#he’s lost and found himself in that pain#doctor who#12th doctor#twelfth doctor#twelve#hell bent#new who#dwgifs#dr who#the doctor#nuwho#clara oswald#whouffaldi#dw#peter capaldi
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mars-ipan · 6 months ago
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hey folks did you know i love super dangan ronpa 2
#marzi speaks#thinking abt the themes in that story#ESPECIALLY the letting other people’s perceptions dictate who you are vs choosing who you are for yourself and not letting anyone stop you#like almost every single one of the sdr2 cast has a front they put on/identity they’re ‘supposed’ to be vs who they truly are#komaeda’s i could write an essay on so we’re gonna skip him bc. energy#hajime’s is obvious. i don’t need to explain that one. though he tries really hard to come off as more masculine as well which. augh#speaking of masculine souda is a victim of toxic masculinity. he was bullied and had a dad who sucked so he changed himself to look fiercer#ibuki left her band due to ‘creative differences’- she didn’t fit into that classic pop band mold and she allowed herself to deviate#mahiru puts extra pressure on men around her bc Her Dad Also Sucked and she’s sick of having to deal with weaponized incompetence#gundham is this sweet kind kind boy who hides it all underneath a veil of darkness. the darkness is not a lie either though he is both#sonia. literally a princess. has huge shoes to fill. in reality she’s a horror fiend who just wants to nerd out abt true crime#nekomaru’s heart condition would have taken him out of sports forever but he found another way and started team managing instead#fuyuhiko is set up to be the next head of the kuzuryu clan but on the inside he is so compassionate (and canonically a prude lmao)#peko is literally raised as a tool and tries to embrace this role even though the one she works for just wants her to be herself#i haven’t seen hiyoko’s ftes but i imagine she’d be far less cruel if she didn’t have to deal with constant infantilization and perverts#twogami just. as a whole. the whole character. yeah#there’s for sure more but i haven’t seen everyone’s ftes so. yanno#like fuck !!!!!! people will always have a perception of what they think you should be but you cannot truly be happy#until you allow yourself to disregard those expectations and forge your own path instead !!!! fuck !!!!!
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the-lark-ascending69 · 7 months ago
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I don't want to see Robin being a good queer mentor to Will. I want her to be so broken inside that all the advice she gives is 1) clearly her projecting 2) sardonically pesimistic and 3) simply bad, terrible advice. I want to see her rambling about her own traumas and end by telling Will the world sucks, that everyone hates you, there's no happy endings and the best thing you can do is crawl into a hole in the earth and cry.
Will feels slightly intimidating watching this weird girl have a mental breakdown in front of him, so he just says "I think I'm gonna go ask Steve"
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the-obnoxious-sibling · 9 months ago
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Do you think there’s w reason shanks doesn’t want to met luffy or does he actually believe in that stupid promise from years ago 😭 And why is he always so melancholic
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the thing about shanks is that he prioritizes other peoples’ desires over his own. to an unhealthy extent. like, to the extent that he may have sacrificed his own dreams in order to fulfill a final request from his captain.
so, if luffy says the next time he sees shanks, he’s going to be the captain of his own crew, and a crew much better than shanks’ at that? shanks will do whatever he can to make that happen, even if all he can do is delay their next meeting.
if oden says he doesn’t want shanks involved in saving wano, shanks will stay uninvolved. once wano’s been saved, though, he’s free to interfere—if just to keep the navy from interfering.
if buggy leaves, saying they’ll be enemies the next time they see each other… well, probably best not to see each other, then, if shanks doesn’t want to treat buggy as an enemy.
i think it’s pretty clear shanks doesn’t want to do any of this. he wants to see luffy, he wants to see buggy, he wants to help wano and see momo and hiyori… but what he wants doesn’t matter to him.
#tos answers#one piece#shanks#—shanks hides his feelings#—shanks has a savior complex#as to why he’s so melancholic… just look at his life man#you were found in a treasure chest. no idea why. but that’s ok! you were raised by the greatest pirate crew there ever was!#then your captain becomes terminally ill. you spend four crazy years fulfilling his wish to see the last island & having adventures!#but your friend gets sick and you don’t get to see that island. and your captain has something to say to you after that makes you cry.#then the crew disbands. it’s just you and your friend now. and then your captain is arrested.#and then your captain is executed. you see it happen. and on the same day your friend tells you you’re enemies and he leaves you.#your life isn’t over—you make other friends; you form another crew. but the only time you hear about your old crew it’s lies or executions.#you adopt a kid—you can’t *not* after finding her in a treasure chest—and you find her a friend. and he gives you hope for the future.#then you fuck up and she’s gone. she hates you. and that kid’s on his own path. you get to hear about it but you don’t get to be part of it#(you’re the destination so you don’t get to be part of the journey)#and all the while the wg’s getting more oppressive & people you love are dying & all you can do is hold the line. maintain the status quo.#because you’re not the one who can change things. you’re waiting for him to come find you. that’s all you can do: wait.#i’d be pretty sad too ijs
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Do you ever read a post where someone is explaining a pokitical thing and from the way they're saying you know with absolute certainty 1) they got their info from a tumblr post and have never actually followed up on how feasible that information actually is to act upon (they may not even have checked if it was CORRECT, but when they do they have clearly not looked into how easy or hard it may be to follow those instructions with a positive outcome), and 2) you know WHICH tumblr post they're quoting because it is basically a copy/paste of it, and 3) it was YOUR goddamn post and the thing they are saying is entirely counter to the point you were making when you said it to the point that you genuinely wonder if they just like. Memory-holed the entire context once they saw that one itty bitty point.
It's like the motherfuckiny dating apps all over again. I do not want people to love my words if they are not actually willing to do the work of understanding them! Didn't your kindergarten ever make you play Telephone to teach you how heresay falls out????
#sometimes i feel like a prized 12 point buck and everyone is desperate to give chase so they can skin me and wear my pelt in memorium#the luxury of being seen is rarely extended to those we perceive as confident/constant in their sense of self#the path of being a child who was constantly told i was making people uncomfortable and alienating my peers#only to immediately become an adult who everyone perceives as so together that they are just Like That With Everyonr#brennan said something like this in the disection of a recent misfits and magic episode about sam (character)#and how he (as evan) realized that the charm and specialness she gifts to everyone around her means that no one ever really gifts it back#and how that fundamentally felt transcendent and revelatory for evan as a turning point idea#he'd spent so long never trusting others feelings of care for him that he couldn't see how he was bulldozing right into and over sam's own#insecurities about whether or not she is worth loving or is special in the same way#and then they had some back and forth about like#sometimes when you develop the skill of relateability and pacification#you disappear so deeply into it that no one notices you're gone - even you yourself - until it's too late#it put to words a lot of the like#gap. that i've always felt between me and others. this insistance on elevating or pathologizing me depending on where they feel the need#to be in relation to me#while having absolutely zero awareness of my actual positioning in relation to them#i have found that they way i interact with others seems to give the impression that because i am being 'genuine' and 'open' about myself#that ALSO means that I am sharing the whole of me.#and when i talk about destigmatization and shame and people work really hard to be like. aware of the edges of me to carch me embarrassed#like if they can prove that i don't 'admit' something it's because i'm ashamed as opposed to considering that maybe they don't have the kind#of relationship with me that would warrant the sharing of it#because i'm willing to talk i am no longer allowed privacy or it's treated as incongruous#but like. i am different people for different people and they are all authentically me but they are also about faciliting the version#of the other person that matters to me to be able to spend time with. i'm not going to bring the parts of me that put you in a bad mood#or aren't comfortable/safe for you. also probably not going to put those things out into the open world as a mixed company conversation#i don't know where I'm going or where I came from here but i think the point is just that I think there's melancholy in seeing when#you also don't know a reliable way to be seen in turn
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blujayonthewing · 5 months ago
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myrkul: hi I'm an unambiguously evil death god of cruelty and suffering who has never had anything to do with you until right this moment, would you like to align yourself with me in exchange for the power to win this midtier combat you're already in the middle of winning and no other clear benefits whatsoever
eachthighern: um hey hi it's me your current patron, you know, the good god of protection and light who has only ever given you unwavering strength and hope and support through all your darkest hours and also extraordinarily powerful magic powers and the ability to heal? I am still here and have never stopped being here and I love you very specifically and personally? remember?
the warlock: hmm..... hmmmmmmm
#THIS CAMPAIGN MAKES ME CRAZYYYY#after the session: oh if we'd played last week [when my mental health was a little worse] she would have absolutely taken that offer#AGSKFLDHSSJ WOULD SHE? HAVE?? WHY???? TO WHAT END-- WHAT WAS THERE TO BE GAINED!!!#yeah idk if I was feeling just a leetle more Dramatique I would have turned evil for no particular reason at the slightest opportunity 😌#she keeps (lovingly!) accusing justin of running such a GRIMDARK DRAMATIC CAMPAIGNNN AAUUUGHH#and justin's just sitting here like 😶#all the dark stuff we encounter almost always resolves on a note of hope and of the triumph of light over darkness#the central themes of this campaign are hope in the face of despair and the strength found in love and camaraderie#and he's VERY GOOD at playing out and reinforcing those themes!! SHE keeps defaulting to HEAVY DESPAIR over problems SHE MADE UP#why!!! would you be tempted by the evil god who was offering you functionally nothing!!!#like forget 'oohh a tragedy' that's not even a narratively compelling temptation!!!#she roleplays her like a Good Person™ who's so Tortured by The Horrors that The Trauma is Pushing Her Down A Dark Path#but in the actual game we just? keep having unambiguous wins and everyone is nice to her and supports her??#she is inventing the horrors in her own brain. babe if you considered even for a second taking that deal#when your current patron who has never let you down was literally also right there and the deal was for absolute peanuts#well I think you are just simply not a good person#which might be one thing but I don't think she (the player) REALIZES that she's roleplaying just... kind of a shitty person actually#she thinks she's roleplaying a Good Person who's being corrupted by how horrible her life is but it's like. literally not. like at all#exhausting. EXHAUSTING. THIS CAMPAIGN IS SO STRESSFUL FOR NO REASON AUUGHH
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daaedoodles · 1 year ago
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mia castries has childhood trauma.
that’s it, that’s the post
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fideidefenswhore · 11 months ago
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Catherine [of Aragon], [Princess] Mary, and Anne Boleyn are enemies of Cromwell and do not fare well at her hands. In fact, [Mantel's] focus on Cromwell seriously undermines the claim her account is more authentic than Michael Hirst['s].
Writing Mary I: History, Historiography, and Fiction
#hmm...#i mean#i don't think focus on one singular historical person as narrator (well . sort of. it's third person POV) automatically renders a work#'less authentic'#by this logic the only 'authentic' series is an ensemble#POV which i suppose the tudors is closer to but that's a very strict and limited criteria...#tbh this is just me pettily posting this quote bcus im so vindicated when this is said#in scholarly compliations lmfao#i agree with the conclusion but not the argument towards it if that makes sense. i have my own sort of...#(i think it's incidental that this is the case. you can still strive for authenticity in a first person close POV historical novel#it just doesn't occur often. see: tobg)#i've seen this as a criticism of BSR and it doesn't track#bcus the fleabag-style makes it explicitly clear this is all from AB's pov#'it's iNACCURATE that it says henry never loved coa FUCK this show'#'accuracy' re: feelings is a difficult premise in the 1st place but also#you cannot argue it's 'inaccurate' that ANNE thought that. bcus we don't know what she thought#the structure of the series is inherently her being interviewed and so it's clear this is the writers' guess on how she#justified her path to herself#and i actually found it to be a plausible one. again. accuracy or inaccuracy cannot be argued. you're talking about someone's feelings#/beliefs about someone ELSE's feelings (hers about henry's)#it's actually quite credible. considering we know that she did claim *she* loved henry more than catherine#that speaks to her feelings on#the matter ...which melds well to their interpretation on what else she might have felt on the subject.
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sunuism · 2 years ago
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not to get too deep all of a sudden but i feel like i’ve been coming to terms with the passing of time recently
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tanchimo-moved · 2 years ago
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I mostly don’t like my older sister for a million reasons but then she does something like suggest we (us + little sister) make a blended Spotify playlist and then it just becomes So Fucking Apparent how influential she was on me when we were younger and it’s hard not to feel something positive for her ugh
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great-and-small · 1 month ago
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A manatee rescue that I follow responded to a call about a female manatee with two calves because one of her babies had been injured by a boat strike. The entire family was temporarily relocated from the wild into a wildlife rehab facility for the injured male calf to undergo treatment. While there, vets noted the female calf was significantly larger than the little injured male. They did genetic testing and determined that big sister calf actually wasn’t related to the other two manatees at all! She was in fact an orphan calf that the adult manatee had found and taken in to care for right alongside her own little one.
Wild to think this manatee calf was literally adopted and nobody would have ever known if it weren’t for random coincidence and human curiosity. Every animal that you cross paths with in life has a fascinating personal story that you’ll only ever catch a glimpse of (and that’s if you’re lucky).
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pink-pumpkin-princess-bitch · 8 months ago
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Oh she looks like the Alsatian cross Husky I used to have! He was more orange/ginger but I've met other crosses of the same type that are more sandy. That might be what she is! Either way, she's beautiful and you're doing your best! That's what matters!
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comic i wrote last year about having a very nervous dog. i love you kirby you are my best friend forever
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whenthegoldrays · 3 months ago
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Kang Seon-hwa can reclaim “I Hate It Here”
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jensthwa · 5 months ago
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show & tell (SMG x reader).
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part of the love's an uncharted path universe ★.
SUMMARY:
You have known Mingi since you both were fourteen. You’ve been by his side through thick and thin and you would do anything for him, really, considering he’s your other half. When he has an unfortunate bed experience and asks for your help and you say yes, he starts considering that, maybe, you’re just the best friend a guy like him can have.
PAIRING: best friend!mingi x afab reader.
GENRE: childhood best friends to ?
WORD COUNT: 8k.
WARNINGS: SMUT ☽ (MINORS DNI) attempt !!! at comedy, wooyoung being a little shit, hwa being the voice of reason, sex talk, pet names (love and also dude and bro but in a sweet way), mingi scaring the sense out of you, descriptions of female anatomy, kissing, dirty talk (sort of), teasing, a little bit of voyeurism, fingering, squirting, almost getting caught, unresolved feelings.
NOTES: had to do a lot of research for this one, so i figured nothing better to post as my first fic here! this is 100% self indulgent, as all fics should be, and i think i've re-read it so many times that if you find a typo or something that just doesn't make sense, you can blame it on english not being my first language i guess lmao. i hope you enjoy it and if you do feel free to send to my askbox/reblog/type in any feedback or thoughts! <3
POSTED: july 18th 2024.
masterlist. / part two.
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“Delete her number right now!” 
“She's such a bitch for saying that to you…” 
“And over text too? Wow.” 
“Yeah, no, I didn't like her from the start.” 
Wooyoung’s living room comes to life once again that morning, voices echoing and insults flying out, all towards the girl Mingi’s seeing. 
Was seeing. You're sure she's out of his usual rotation with the lovely shit show she just caused. 
You stay silent, your eyes fixed on your best friend's expression, on his red cheeks and apologetic eyes because everyone told him that girl was bad news. 
He should've listened to you when you told him you liked her friend better. She was a sweet girl, clearly had a thing for Mingi. 
Unfortunately, Mingi has a type. And that type always ends up breaking his spirit one way or another. 
But you stay silent, letting your friends have their little rants about how much of a bitch she is for hurting Mingi's ego like that, until he covers up his face with his hands and lets out a frustrated whine. 
“That's enough, everyone. I think he got it.” You smile a little and everyone turns to you, Yunho’s chest heaving and everything but Seonghwa (who also kept his mouth shut all this time) interferes before anyone else has the chance to start again.
“You know you shouldn't feel ashamed for that, right?” he asks Mingi, who slowly lowers his hands to his lap and looks at you for a brief second. You nod, confirming what Hwa says “No one is born knowing everything and she shouldn't expect you to know how to make a girl squirt.” 
“Jesus Christ,” Mingi whines again, closing his eyes “Don't say it like that.” 
“How else should I say it?” Seonghwa is confused but he laughs a little bit and turns to you. 
Being the only girl in the room, you think everyone it's expecting you to pick your friend up and join them in their insults but you can't (for Mingi’s sake). Instead, you let out a sigh “I mean, it's hard to even make it happen on your own without any help, Mingi. I don't know what the fuck she's on but…” shrugging, you extend your arm to pat him in the shoulder two times “Hwa’s right.” 
“So you do know?” 
“Woo—” Hongjoong reprimands right away and you turn to Wooyoung, confused.
“Huh?” 
“You said that it's hard making it happen,” he explains, smiling because he just found a new target for the next few days “So you must know.” 
Talking about sex with them was never difficult, it didn't make you uncomfortable whatsoever but you know what Woo is doing. 
You look down at Mingi before answering though and his eyes are glued to the carpet, begging for the topic of his unfortunate encounter with that bitch to die on everyone's tongue. 
So you take mercy on him. 
“Oh. I mean… Yeah.” You shrug once again, leaning back against the cushions on the couch while Wooyoung claps like he just heard the most hilarious joke ever. 
“You truly are amazing.” 
Rolling your eyes, you get up from your comfy seat “Sure. But it took a lot of practice and the whole ordeal was frustrating for me, so, again, I don't know what the fuck she was on,” you say again, smiling down at Mingi before taking a few steps towards the door “It's noon already, by the way.” 
“Shit.” Woo gets up quickly from his spot on the floor and everyone else follows suit. 
“Alright, everyone out! We have a midterm to cheat on.” San calls out and everyone takes it as their sign to actually leave (not just hang around the apartment) and continue with their days. 
This reunion was a little impromptu, just because Wooyoung texted everyone begging to come over and hang out with him and San before their online philosophy midterm. 
“And by that he means that you need to stay,” Wooyoung hugs Seonghwa hard, almost begging him with his eyes “We didn't study… Don't look at me like that! Please?” 
“I'm not doing your fucking midterm for you!”
You chuckle, leaning on the door and waiting for your ride home to get his shoes on. When you look down at him again, Mingi mouths a thank you and you blow him a kiss. 
When you get downstairs, you swear you still hear Wooyoung begging his senior to take the test for him. 
Everyone is quiet in the car. You can tell they're tired from exams and life in general, so you don't press them with questions and just let the music play in the background while you look out the passenger window and, eventually, at Mingi. 
His grip on the steering wheel lets you know he's a little more affected than he let on back there. But, again, you say nothing. 
You know better than to pressure him into telling you his feelings. 
Mingi and you have been friends forever. He lived a few houses down from yours, becoming your first friend when you moved to the city. You both were fourteen when it happened, so you've known him long enough to know what happens when he gets his heart broken. 
Not that Mingi loved that girl or anything, but he never really took embarrassment well. He didn't when the first girl he liked rejected him in front of the whole ninth grade class and he didn't when his pants ripped in the middle of the stage while performing a routine with his dance team on senior year. 
You stood by his side every single time and every single time he waited to sit down and let everything out, collect his feelings and talk to you through his frustrations. You really loved that about him, because he never said anything he regretted just because he was upset at the moment. 
Maybe that's why you two have been friends for so long. Opposites attract, or whatever your mother told you one time. 
In reality, you think it's because you two complement each other well. 
He knows when to speak his mind and you're kind of impulsive, heart on your sleeve and sharp tongue ready to defend your and your loved ones honor if needed. 
That's why it takes a lot of strength for you to not pull up that girl's number from his phone and give her a piece of your mind. 
One by one, you drop your friends off in different parts of the city and when it's time to go into your own house, you circle the car and Mingi rolls his window down.
He reads the look you give him a little too well, so he opens his mouth to stop you but you shake your head. 
“Call me, come over or just let me know if you need anything,” you start before he says anything “If you need me to beat her up, I can do that too.” 
He huffs out a laugh “You don't even know how to fight, love.”
You sigh at the nickname, he's been using it since the time you told him you had a crush on his friend, way back in highschool, and that you were positive you were going to get together and he would call you love because that's what good boyfriend's do. 
Turns out, you weren't exactly his friend's type. Neither were the other girls in your school. 
“I don't give a shit, I'll do it,” You two smile to each other fondly for a few seconds and then you tap the top of the car “Thanks for the ride, dude.” 
“You’re welcome, bro.” He rolls his eyes, annoyed because he hates when you call him that, but waits for you to get inside either way. 
And in the solitude of your room, you wait. 
You distract yourself with papers that are due in a few days, you start studying for your finals even though they're months away and you even go downstairs to say goodbye to your parents when they leave for a fancy dinner with their colleagues before you hear your phone ring. 
Mingi's FaceTime comes right on time, because you were getting really anxious from the radio silence on his end. 
“I have a small query for you.” He puts on an accent that makes you grimace immediately and he laughs at you. 
“Ew. Never do that ever again,” you beg, going back upstairs to your room “Go ahead.” 
“How do you do it?” 
“Excuse me?” 
“How the fuck do you make yourself squirt, love?” 
Oh. 
Definitely not the conversation you were hoping to have with him. 
It catches you off guard and you stammer your response “Um… You— I mean, it's not really a thing I can explain.” 
“You have such a way with words, though.” 
You stare at him through the screen, annoyed, and he just laughs again “Don't make me come over and beat you up.” 
“Alright, alright,” his giggling dies out and you distract yourself from the heat you feel creeping over your cheeks while putting away your statistics prep for the quiz you have next week. There's a bit of silence and then you hear him sigh “I do really want to know, though.” 
“If you're asking me this to then go over to her house and prove her wrong, I'm not telling you shit.” 
“No! No, that's not it at all,” he defends himself quickly when you turn your head to the camera, scowl in your face “When she asked me to do it, I really did try to make her, you know…” 
“You said squirt so freely a minute ago, Mingi,” you tease, smiling, but at his expression, you give in “What exactly did you do?” 
“I tried to, you know, do it like they do it in the movies,” he demonstrates his point with his free hand, his middle and ring finger down on his sheets, pressing and moving side to side “And she was enjoying it and she came, but nothing really… came out.” 
“Wow, first of all: you make her come and she has the nerve to give you shit over text? I hate her,” you shake your head, disappointment written all over your face “and second of all, that was a terrible mistake.” 
“What? Going like this?” He does it again and you roll your eyes, laughing a second later. 
“No, dude, trying to porno your way into making her squirt.” 
“Oh.” His movements on the sheets slow down and you grimace again. 
“Please stop doing that,” you beg and he snaps out of his thoughts to look at you through the screen. You take your phone and move to the bed, resting your head against the pillows with a huff. 
You ponder for a moment. You're sure telling him what he wants to hear it's not really a threat to your friendship, but it's also something that's very personal and intimate. You can talk about sex with Mingi and the other guys, sure, what doesn't mean you tell them about your sex life. 
Maybe that's why Wooyoung was so excited earlier today, because you spilled something that involves you directly and not something vague and general like you usually do. 
“Would it give you peace of mind if I explained it to you?” You ask, your voice barely a whisper as you sit straight on the bed. 
Your best friend takes what feels like a lifetime to respond and, when does, it's in a hushed tone as well “Please.” 
You groan and you comply either way, trying to find the right words to even start “Okay, I'm going to be very technical about this.” 
“I wouldn't expect anything else from you.” 
His teasing tone makes you glare at him for a few seconds before dismissing it with a click of your tongue “The very first thing you need to make sure happens, is that you wash your hands—” 
“Yes, Y/N, I'm not a virgin,” he huffs this time, annoyed “I know all of that, just skip to the part where I make her squirt.” 
“Jesus, fine! I also want to clarify that this works on me and I'm not really sure if it'll work on anyone else, alright?” he nods and you look away from the screen because you're not sure how to look him in the eyes “The first thing that I do— The first thing that you need to do,” you correct yourself quickly “Is make sure she's comfortable. And I mean, the space. Towels, water bottles… She needs to hydrate a lot.” 
“Hydrate… a… lot…” You turn your head to the screen and your jaw goes slack at what you see. 
“Are you writing this down?!” 
“I’m making sure I don't forget anything!” 
“You're unbelievable…” You let out under your breath and take a deep one before resuming the, apparently, class “Squirting can be confused as peeing and—” 
“Shit, hold on.” He interrupts and you hear his mom’s voice at the door, asking him something you can't really catch through the shitty airpod audio “It's just Y/N… I'm not really saying anything so I don't understand how I'm being too loud for— Yes ma'am.” 
You try not to laugh because he's literally being scolded right in front of you. 
Old habits die hard, and Mingi's mom loves to put him on the spot. 
Your laugh dies hard as well, because the next words, for some reason, make your heart drop to your ass. 
“She's telling me to either cut it out or go to your house, so… I'm coming over.” 
“Oh, I— Hello?” Your lockscreen mocks you because the call literally ended before you could tell him to go and fuck himself “Shit.” 
You don't know why you panic, but you do. You tidy up the room, you change your pajamas into something more presentable and you try to remember what you were telling him before he pulls open your bedroom door. 
“Mingi! Fuck, you scared the shit out of me “ you're panting, hand over your chest. 
He’s also panting, like he runned to get to your house, but he looks dumbfounded by your reaction “Your mom literally gave me the spare keys in your presence.”  
When he steps closer, you notice he's wearing cologne and that his hair it's a little wet, still, so you figure he took a shower before calling you tonight. 
Which means he probably wanted to sleep everything off, like he usually does, but whatever this is made him call you. 
“Yeah! But I thought you— Nevermind.” He shrugs and gives your hair a kiss before he moves to sit at your desk, the same way he usually does when he steals your laptop and notes to complete his assignments for the few classes you share. 
God. Somehow, you wish he was doing just that so it brings back some sense of normalcy. Maybe then, your heart can calm down enough for you to understand why this specific situation has your senses going insane. 
You sit back down on your bed and try to get your heart back to its place in the meantime. 
“They're not home, right? I didn't see your dad’s car.” 
“Company dinner.” 
“Ah.” He nods and you both fall in uncomfortable silence. It shouldn't be awkward, but it kind of is, even if you laugh when he pulls out the notebook he was writing on from underneath his oversized shirt and steals a pen from your pencil case, it's still a little weird. 
You gulp. 
“So, squirting can be confused as peeing.” He recalls the last thing you said with a smile and then he turns to look at you for a second “Go on.” 
You're grateful he's taking notes all of the sudden. He's turned to you, so you have a clear view of his back and you can freely take a grounding breath before continuing “It can make you feel very uncomfortable if you think you're going to pee yourself and that's really why most women don't squirt in the first place.” 
“You sound like you're reading a textbook.” He confesses with a laugh. 
“I told you, I'm being very technical about this— Besides, I did my research when I was trying to…” you gulp again “You know.” 
“You said squirt so freely a minute ago.” Mingi teases you the same way you teased him earlier and you squint your eyes in return. 
“Very funny. Anyways… Yeah, when you feel that, you usually tense up. You need to relax before even making it happen,” he nods, writing it down quickly “I also read that, depending on the person, you can confuse the liquid with, like, usual… arousal? Yeah, arousal” you sound more confident the second time you say it, unsure on how to call it because you never really explained anything related to your vagina to anyone else. 
He turns to you, confused “So… If she doesn't squirt a lot, how can I tell if she did it?” 
“I guess you'll notice it in her reaction?” You shrug and then cough a little to try and get rid of the sudden lump on your throat “I mean, it's not my case, so I wouldn't… I wouldn't know that.” 
Mingi, because -you guess- hates you, just raises a brow and looks you over one time before turning back to his notes. 
“A-anyways,” you cough again “It's all in her g-spot. It happens because it gets stimulated and that g-spot it's like…” you, once again, try to find the ideal words to explain “It's like the upper wall of the vagina? No, no, that's not right,” you see him draw a line over what he clearly wrote down on the paper and you laugh, apologetic “It's more like the, uh… Like the front wall of it.” 
“Front wall?” 
“Y-yeah?” you offer, nervous and unsure “I mean… Ugh, let me explain again. Something that you need to take into account is that you can only find it if she's really, really turned on.” 
“O… kay.” 
“Sort of like when you get hard we, uh, also get hard. Just differently,” you notice he's no longer taking notes when you turn to him again and the room is suddenly very hot. 
The AC’s on, right? 
Fuck. 
“And apparently it only really shows up when you're really aroused. The g-spot, I mean,” Quickly, you're up from your bed and walking around it, fetching your water bottle and taking a big gulp of it with your eyes closed. 
Mingi clears his throat a second later. 
“So it feels hard to the touch or…” 
“Not really, um… It kinda feels like a berry.” 
He laughs “What?” 
“Yeah, it's kind of soft but it has a texture to it too. And we, uh… have this gland that fills up with the liquid— Kind of like a prostate gland! Yeah, that's what that article said,” putting even more distance within Mingi and you, you sit back on the bed, just on the other side “If you try to do it before it fills up, you end up with nothing. That's what frustrated me the whole time I was learning how to do it.” 
“You didn't drink enough water?” 
“No, no— It fills up when you get really turned on. And when I was trying, I was trying way too hard and didn't, uh… I didn't do a lot of foreplay before trying, s-so.” You nod, finishing the explanation in a softer voice. 
Your cheeks feel hot and you swear your upper lip is sweating a bit. Why would you even say that? 
“Y-you didn't touch yourself enough or…?” 
“Exactly, I didn't, I just… Tried t-to stimulate it. Wasn't even wet enough so I used, uh, lube.” 
“Oh… Lube. Sure, okay.” He nods again, and then moves his hand over his face, looking away for a second “And then?” 
“I'm not really sure how to… Give me a second.”
What were you even telling him before exposing yourself like that? Before the tension in the room skyrocketed in a suffocating way? You're not sure. 
Oh, foreplay. Okay, what's next? 
“Fingering,” you say out loud when you remember and at the sudden word Mingi turns to you, eyes wide and you stumble over your words yet again “Y-you need to finger her to stimulate the g-spot, duh.” 
“Don't duh me, Y/N, I'm learning!” 
“Sorry!” 
“Okay! Now what do I do when… fingering.” 
That makes you frown. You're not really sure what to tell him next. So you look straight ahead and, unintentionally, move your ring and middle finger the way you do when you're touching yourself. 
In the silence of the room, you audibly hear Mingi’s breath hitching and that draws you back to reality. 
When you look at him, his eyes are solely focused on your fingers. 
“I don't really know how to explain this next part.” You sound apologetic, your lips tensing into a straight line. 
A bit passes. 
And then another one and another one where Mingi looks at you with a weird, foreign expression on his face. 
So you open your mouth to apologize to him, but he beats you to it. 
“Then show me.” 
You swear you never even heard him sound like that before. Or maybe you have, the tone of voice similar to when he just wakes up, low, grouchy, as if his throat might be dry. 
It just never affected you this way. 
“W-what?” you blink hard, a few times, trying to focus on whatever the hell is going on. 
“Show me how you do it… I-if you want to.” 
“Mingi!” 
“I just— Look, you don't have to,” he says right away “If you don't want to, you can forget I ever asked but I'm so… curious”, he says, getting up from your desk chair and planting his knee into the bed “And I'm also really butthurt over what happened. I want to learn but I don't really have anyone else to ask.” 
“What about, uh… Minseo! Yeah, what about her?” you offer quickly, also getting up. 
“San's ex?!” 
“I don't know any other woman that you also know, Mingi!” 
He gulps and breathes heavily, gathering his words, his thoughts, just like he always does and you remember: This is Mingi. Your Mingi. The Mingi you've known for years and care about more than anything. 
“I'm asking you because I trust you,” he says, looking you over once again “And because if I fail, you're not… going to make fun of me for it.”
There it is. 
You soften at that and he seems to relax at your reaction. His demeanor lets you know he's not just saying that because he wants to see you touch yourself, he's being honest. 
So you decide to be honest, as well. In a whisper, because your voice will tremble and give away how strongly you feel about his request. 
“I've never done it in front of anyone before.” 
“So no one has ever make you—” 
“No,” you confirm before he even gets it out and you sigh “I never ask for it and I haven't really… I've only slept with—” 
“Hangyeol.” He nods and scrunches his nose in disgust at the memory of your highschool boyfriend. They never really got along and it was a shame, because Han was a great guy, he just wasn't the one for you. 
“Mingi,” you walk over to him and he straightens up his spine “This could really… I mean, there's no getting rid of me in this lifetime, buddy,” reminding him makes him smile and you do as well, nervous, your body on high alert “But this could mess us up.” You finish in a whisper. 
“I'm not letting that happen.” He says back, eyes scanning your face before zeroing on your eyes “There's no getting rid of me either, love.” 
That nickname is going to be the death of you, you're sure. It makes you suck in air you very much need at this moment. 
Fuck it. 
“I'll… get the towels, then.” You smile a little even though your cheeks are burning and you feel a little dizzy while holding his gaze, but you don't back down. 
Before you move, though, he stops you with his hand holding your waist “I know where they are. Stay here.” 
You could literally melt right now. And you know it's a short trip to the downstairs hallway closet from your room, so you make sure you strip your duvet before things get messy. 
You should go to the bathroom, too, to clean yourself up a bit before Mingi finds out what you find out when you sit on your bed. 
You're so wet. 
And it's so fucking embarrassing, because you're not supposed to feel this way for him, for this.
Because, if anything, this is clearly just an educational experience.
And if Mingi’s excited look when he re-enters your bedroom tells you otherwise, you're choosing to ignore it for the clearly educational experience’s sake. 
“These will do?” 
You take the two mismatched towels and place them on the bed right away, not even looking at him. 
“Yep.” 
You think he nods but you're not sure, you just caught a glimpse of him moving towards your desk while you pretend to fix the towels in the bed to perfection. 
“Okay, so… You need to, uh, be comfy and shit. Drink water, you just did that a few minutes ago…” when you turn to him, he's reading his notes like he's actually about to conduct an experiment and you chuckle before shaking your head “The… The foreplay part should be next, right?” 
“Right…” you drag out, biting the inside of your cheek before he looks back at you. 
“You look really tense, Y/N,” he deadpans, looking down at his notes again “You need to relax so it can happen, right?” 
“You're about to see me touch myself and you think I can relax?” 
“Oh,” he frowns, immediately and then blinks a few times to refocus, you think “I'm not the one doing it?” 
“Uh… Yes? Later? I thought you wanted to see me first, y-you… You asked me to show you…” 
You can feel him think, the gears on his brain twisting and you think he's going to backpedal at any second because he's not really saying anything. Then you see it, the moment the image crosses his mind. 
And the next second you have him in front of you, towering over your form and then he's not.
Getting on his knees, he tentatively places a hand on your knee and parts your legs so you can make room for him to touch the end of the mattress with his chest and raise his chin just enough to make you think he's asking you to kiss him.
Oh God, you want to kiss him. 
His voice is a sweet murmur when he speaks again “Show me how to get you there, love,” he sounds like he's pleading, like he's begging you to instruct him and your breath catches when he moves his hand up your thigh “What do you like?” 
Your mouth moves before you can even think “Kiss me.” 
You don't even notice you're leaning forward until his breath fans against your chin and he tilts his head even more so that your noses touch. 
“How do you like being kissed?” 
You breathe out a laugh, a little annoyed by his constant questioning “Figure it out, Mingi.” And then the last thing you see is his smirk before his mouth presses against yours. 
It's not what you expect. If anything, you expected him to take the lead. Han used to do so, all the guys you've ever kissed did it as well. You don't really know why his patience surprises you, but it does and if your heart could race even more, it would. 
Because he waits for your guidance, waits for you to grab his shirt and jank him closer, waits for you to sigh against him and then returns the gesture when he feels your fingers move upwards and tangle in his dark hair. 
His mouth is complying to yours, his tongue is exploring it and wetting your lips in the process and you've never felt this good with anyone before. 
That's something you'll need to unpack later, but your brain disconnects when your best friend lets out a noise the second his hands touch your waist under your shirt and you forget, for a split second, that the point of this is to have you on your back pleasing yourself for him to learn. 
Because you want nothing more than to hear him make that noise again. 
The kisses grow needy and so do you when he trails a path with his wet lips from your chin to your neck and the next thing you know is that your back is against the towels you laid down before and his mouth is kissing the valley of your breasts over the cotton of your shirt. 
You look down and it takes a second for him to feel you staring before he looks up at you “Should we take this off?” 
Your voice gives away how gone you are when you reply a simple yes and your shirt is on the floor the next instant. 
Now, you're sure this is not the first time Mingi has seen you in your underwear. You both have gone swimming before and he has walked into your room a million times while you're getting ready. You're even sure he's seen you walk out from your bathroom in this specific bra before… But he's staring at you like it's the first time he's been able to trace the way your breasts spill a little bit over the fabric of this old bra you decided to wear today, like it's the first time he's allowed himself to enjoy it. 
Like it's the first time he's allowing himself to feel any sort of attraction for you. 
“Fuck,” you whisper, shallow breath hitting his cheek when he returns his mouth to your jaw “Let me… Come here.” 
You scoot up until your head rests against your pillows and he follows, resting his body weight on his side and chasing your mouth when you turn your face to him. 
You should speed this up. There's no way you're not going to feel like shit if tomorrow you wake up and remember you're letting yourself enjoy this more than you should. 
There’s no reason for you to lose your breath when his fingertips trace softly the skin under your breasts or for your legs to grant him access so quickly when they reach your belly and bypass every other part of your body before going straight in between them. 
And he notices it too. 
“I don't know why I asked you so many questions before,” he starts, turning his hand so that he back of it and his nails start caressing the inside of your thighs through your sweatpants “I know what you like. I pay attention to you whenever we're talking about sex with the guys.” 
You frown, about to remind him that you never speak directly about your own experiences but he continues his ministrations, giving your other thigh attention “I usually watch you closely in case any of it makes you uncomfortable, but I notice your reactions when they speak about something that you like.” 
Oh. Heart on your sleeve, your biggest flaw. 
“Like that one time Woo was going on and on about marking and you couldn't stop fidgeting on your seat…” his nose traces your jaw softly before his teeth take the skin underneath it and you gasp just enough to prove him right “Or that time Yunho said he hated teasing because he's an impatient little shit” he chuckles, his index finding the spot next to your mound and going down slowly until his knuckle graces the crevice where your leg and your hip connect “and you defended it until we had to stop you guys from yelling each other over it…” 
Your breath shakes and your eyes close at the sensation “Mingi…” 
“Am I wrong?” 
You shake your head no and you can all but hear him smile when he speaks again. 
“Of course I'm not.” 
You open your eyes and expect him to look at you the way he does when you're unable to defend yourself against his quips, but he's not. His eyes are following his own actions and his bottom lip is pulled by his teeth when he takes the fabric of your sweatpants and pulls it up, enough to give you some friction where you need it the most. 
“Can I take this off?” 
“Fuck, y-yes.” 
Joining your shirt on the ground, you're left only in your underwear while Mingi is fully clothed and it bothers you out of nowhere. 
“You're so wet already…” he observes and you blush, puffing some air and covering your eyes with your hand. He just laughs “That's a good thing, it means that I'm doing okay.” 
He's doing more than okay. Damn all the experience he has and the way he reads you so well. 
But his sweet tone gives you some clarity and you support your weight on your hand to fix your position on the bed. 
“Alright, let's… resume the lesson before my parents get home.” 
“They probably won't for now. The company dinners last until like… two in the morning, usually, right?” 
“That's when they decide to go out for drinks.” 
“Your mom always wants to go out for drinks.” 
“Let's not talk about my mom right now!” you beg and he laughs again, making you chuckle alongside him and you're glad he's talking all of this -the kissing, the teasing, the sweet-talk and the wet patch on your underwear- so well. 
The awkwardness from before dissipated the moment he got on his knees in front of you and all that followed was this lovely tension you're dying to keep between the two of you forever even though you shouldn't. 
“Show me, love,” he pleads and you sigh, his mouth finding your cheek for a quick second, encouraging you “And then you can show me how to make you feel good, too.” 
You stare at him for a few seconds “Damn, you're good,” he shakes his head and you smile, getting rid of your underwear and pushing the quick moment of embarrassment being bare with him in the room gives you “Remember that this is what works for me, okay?” 
He nods and then props himself up so he can see it better. 
You take a second before your fingers dive into your wet folds and, when you do, you gasp at the feeling. 
You've never been more wet just for kissing and teasing before. What the fuck. 
You do what you usually do when you're alone for a while and try to contain yourself from moaning because Mingi's eyes keep moving from your fingers to your face. Then, you remember you should be talking him through it, as well. 
“You see how I'm building it up?” you start, chest heaving and he hums as his reply “I'm not trying to make myself come but I'm kinda just… edging myself a little bit.” 
“Edging,” he repeats and then hisses when he sees your thumb pressing into your clit just how you like it, making you sigh heavily “I know all about that, that's good.” 
“Y-you do?” 
“You'll be surprised,” he smiles, proud of himself. 
“Okay,” you continue, taking a deep breath “Then you know about prepping, too,” he nods “So, a finger first…” you say, swallowing hard when your middle finger makes its way into your cavity without much effort. 
Dragging back and forth for a minute or so, you're incapable of containing yourself any longer. Air leaves your mouth in pants and your eyes close when you drag the pad of your finger upwards, locating your g-spot with ease because you're used to it.
“And then, two fingers.” 
“Mhm.” 
“Look at the position of my hand. I read that these two fingers work the best because they're longer than the rest, although…” you look at Mingi's hand over your belly. You didn't even notice before this that he was touching you, but he is and his thumb is tracing a pattern that both relaxes you and sends shivers down your spine “I'm sure that it won't be a problem for you, huh?” 
He sends a cocky smirk your way and you would've smacked him if you weren't so… preoccupied. 
Pressing your precious spot and then dragging back and forward, you stop the movements altogether. It felt too good, way more than good and it's a different sensation of what you're used to. 
And it's all because of him. 
You look at his side profile, his eager eyes commiting to memory what you're doing to yourself, probably taking mental notes now that his notebook is long forgotten over at your desk and… 
He deserves this. He deserves to be the one to have this, just tonight. 
You hate to leave what feels like it's about to be your best orgasm in the hands of someone who's just learning, yet alone a man.
But Mingi is not just any man. 
“Mingi,” you call and his curious eyes leave your heat a second later “your turn.” 
“Did you… Did it happen? I didn't see anythi—” 
“No,” you interrupt him, your fingers leaving you and you turn to him, your clean hand finding his face “show me what you learned.” 
His mouth parts, but you have a newfound confidence and a glint in your eyes that is new, so nothing comes out. 
“Prove that bitch wrong.” 
That seems to do it. 
His eyes go from being confused to spark with determination and want and electricity runs through you again because he seems so relieved he gets to touch you sooner than expected. 
Shyness and nervousness buried six feet under, you both smile to each other before you feel him. 
His fingers gathering your wetness, his thumb finding your clit with ease and expertise. 
“Wettest pussy I've ever touched.” You can tell he's a little lost in the heat of the moment but it's okay. So are you. 
Fuck. 
It's been way too long since someone else touched you this way, so you all but melt at the circles he draws on your clit. He paid close attention before, because he's touching you just the way you like it. 
“That feels so good…” 
“Yeah?” he asks, dark eyes finding yours before a particular stroke forces you to close them. And then he gathers enough slick to insert his ring finger inside and you can't help the moan that slips past your lips. 
You lift your hand to cover your mouth, but Mingi clicks his tongue in feign disappointment “I want to hear if I'm making you feel good, love. Don't hold back on me just because this is unconventional.” 
The worries die altogether with that. 
And now that you have free reign to stop containing yourself, you don't know how to stop. 
It's not long before his middle joins his other finger but he doesn't go for it right away. He fucks you slowly, allowing you to get used to the unfamiliar stretch of his way longer, way thicker digits until they slide in and out with little effort. 
His pace picks up after what feels like ages and your hand fists his shirt for the second time tonight, nodding and moaning in encouragement. 
“Deeper,” you instruct “curl them upwards and go deeper, you'll feel it then.” 
He obeys immediately, his chest heaving and his mouth parting in delight when he finds it. The pad of his finger presses down on it tentatively and your grasp on his shirt hardens.
“Is that it?” you nod and he does it again, which earns another moan “What do I do now?” 
Before you completely get lost in the feeling, you decide to drop the step by step bullshit aside and give him the full instruction in hopes that he'll remember it all without fucking up: “What works for me is pressing… Fuck, yeah, just like that a-and then…” you take deep breath “Just a little harder… Yeah, then rub it in a circular motion while maintaining that same pressure… Fuck, Mingi!” 
He's a little too good at following instructions, because he touches you like he's been doing this forever and soon you feel the familiar swell, the usual buildup of it all and he's taking you over the age like it's nothing. 
You forget how to speak, you forget how to tell him what he needs to do next and so, when you finally explode, you take his wrist and place his two fingers over your clit. 
When you move them side by side, he lets out a fascinated giggle but knows exactly what to do. 
A second later, your release is coating your thighs and the towels underneath you and you don't register anything else because your ears are ringing. 
Did you lose consciousness for a second? It feels like you did. 
That was the best fucking orgasm you've ever felt in your entire life. 
And when you come back down, you only register the sound of your breathing and plump lips kissing your face, his fingers stopping their pace once he realizes you're done with it. 
Opening your eyes, you stare at your popcorn ceiling for a second. Then, you look at Mingi who's already staring at you with a what the fuck just happened expression. 
It makes you laugh. Softly at the beginning, post-orgasm bliss takes over but then Mingi laughs too and your whole chest swells with inexplicable pride. 
You don't think twice before kissing him again. When you realize you did it, you pull back and blink at him like he didn't make you see stars three seconds ago. 
“That was…” his eyes do the thing he usually does. You never notice it until now, but he scans your face so frequently you've grown used to it, but now… It feels different. His teeth nip his bottom lip and he shakes his head before speaking “Come here, love.” 
And then he's kissing you again, slow, intimate, beyond the stupid lesson you just taught him. 
But you don't mind it one bit. 
You sit up, getting on your knees on the bed and basically forcing him to do the same. Ignoring the gross sensation of the wet towel underneath you, you pull him further into you until his chest presses against yours, until his hands roam your body and settle on your waist, securing the embrace. 
This time, when you pull away, there's this whole unspoken new thing between you. 
“That was…?” you press, smiling a bit, pulling both you and him back to reality. 
Right now, with you half naked and his hard-on pressing on your belly, it's not the time to discuss your feelings. 
“Possibly the coolest thing I've seen,” he starts, giggling when you roll your eyes “and the hottest thing I've seen, too,” you shrug, dismissing his stare because it's making you feel hot all over your body, again “and I'm really, really grateful you said yes, love.” 
The soft tone he uses to say the last bit relaxes you and you nod, deciding it's not the time to tell him you never even came like that on your own. 
Instead, you decide to grasp this intimate moment and extend it as much as you can. You can see Mingi is not expecting it when you reach his sweatpants and let your shaky thumb trace the outline of his cock. 
Closing his eyes, he lets out a pleased sigh before he grabs you by the back of your neck and rests his forehead against yours. 
“This is supposed to be purely educational, Y/N” 
“Is that what you want it to be?” you softly ask, pulling your hand away but then his hips buck and chase after your touch, making you smile despite the emotions swelling in your chest “Let me help you… Please…” 
“Fuck, don't beg me, love.” 
“Don't make me beg, then.” 
What the fuck are you even doing? 
“Y/N, I—” he stops suddenly and you're too lost in the moment to notice why. 
But then the sound of keys and a door closing downstairs scares the fuck out of you and you push Mingi away without thinking it through. 
He lands with a thud on your bedroom floor, next to your discarded clothes. 
“What the fuck, Y/N?” he whispers-shouts, both shocked and offended, but you're getting off your bed and picking up your clothes and the soaked towels so you don't really care about his feelings right now. 
“Bathroom. Now.” 
You're so blessed for having your bedroom right next to the upstairs bathroom. And so blessed that it is your bathroom and you don't have to share it. You’ll get on your knees and thank your gods afterwards, but right now you can only think one thing.
Don't get caught. 
Lord knows you'll never hear the end of it if Mingi walks out of here with a hard-on. Your dad will kill him, your mom will cheer because she loves the idea of you and Mingi together and you'll probably pack your bags and move away if it happens. 
When you lock the door behind you and make a quick show of putting your underwear and pants back on, you hear Mingi chuckle. 
“We can always tell them we're having a sleepover, Y/N, you didn't have to karate kick me off the damn bed!” 
“Hush!” But he just keeps giggling at your very obvious flustered state.
You're about to rip him a new one when he takes two strides, backs you against the bathroom sink, and catches your lips in a quick, sweet kiss and all your worries dissolve just like that. 
“Guess they didn't go for drinks after all..” 
“You think?” cocking your head to the side, the smile on your lips can't be fought at this point. 
He returns it and leans in for another kiss, longer this time and you sigh against his mouth before pulling away because you really, really shouldn't be doing this right now. 
You hear your mother calling your name and then footsteps up the stairs. A murmured she must be sleeping and a hum from your father before they pass the bathroom door. You truly only relax when you hear their door closing at the end of the hallway. 
“Okay, we're safe now.” 
“When were we ever not safe?” 
“When I was half naked on my bed, Mingi!” 
He shakes his head with a smile and takes a step back. 
You clear your throat. 
“I really did want to help you out but—” 
“Raincheck?” he asks and at your hesitation to say yes, he continues “If you want to. If you don't, it's okay. We… We'll figure it out, okay?” 
“Okay.” 
He smiles again “Good, uh…” 
Mingi seems unsure on what to do next. Feeling the same, you decide the best thing to do is to get him out of here. 
Opening the bathroom door, you carefully peek into the hallway, taking his hand in yours and beckoning him to follow you down the stairs, trying to make as little noise as possible. 
“Shit, your shoes…” you whisper. 
“I don't think they noticed if they didn't barge into the bedroom to check on us like they usually do, love.” He returns, in the same tone. 
That does nothing to ease your mind, but he makes sure to put them on quickly and then grabs your shoulders, shaking you in a teasing manner. 
“Quit worrying, Y/N. I can feel you thinking.” 
Of course he does. There's no one, in this world, that knows you better than him. 
It makes your heart flutter and it shouldn't. But you're getting on your tippy toes and stealing a parting kiss before you think about it too much. 
It's irresponsible for you to do so, but Mingi grabs your waist and extends the duration of the kiss and suddenly you don't give a fuck about your parents or anyone else finding out about this… shift in your dynamic. 
“See you tomorrow?” he asks against your lips and you nod. 
“See you tomorrow.” 
And with that, he leaves. 
You lock the door and practically run to your room after. 
What the fuck have you done?
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If you read all the way down here: THANK YOU SO MUCH. Any feedback would be greatly appreciated and since it’s an open ending (sort of), let me know if you want a second part! 
© jensthwa, 2024.
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chuluoyi · 6 months ago
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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐎𝐅 𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐒 !
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- gojo satoru x reader // zen'in naoya x reader
in the wake of your scandalous divorce, you fall into the arms of emperor gojo satoru. for a while, you believe you have found love… until it becomes clear that your new husband is scheming behind your back! love, marriage, divorce… are you doomed to go through this path the second time?
genre/warnings: 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact!—might be ooc, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, marriage of convenience, explicit smut, pregnancy
note: loosely inspired by and taking some elements of manhwa remarried empress. this is the second part of remarried empress au trilogy! wc. 9.2k ! thank you so much for your love in the first part🩵 but as of now, TAGLIST IS CLOSED so i'd appreciate it if the comment section won't be flooded with asks for tags :')
credit header goes to @/mongsanghwa in twitter!
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Heavens, help me... I love her too damn much!
For Gojo Satoru, love was once an abstract concept. At first, he thought it was admiration, or a sense of obsession—
But on the day he watched you become Zen’in Naoya’s bride, Satoru realized it was much deeper than that. It felt like the sharpest sword had pierced straight into him and lodged itself there.
And then, years later— as if hearing his prayers, you became his. Since then, his life was perfect, because he wasn't lying when he said that you were everything he wanted in life.
Yet in a twist of fate, that same sinking, horrific feeling washed over him... as he watched the pagoda he built for you engulfed in flames.
You were there. Satoru felt himself staggering as he took in the mortifying sight. You and his unborn child are inside!
He didn't waste a breath as he dashed towards where you were, crushing everything in his path in the process, but just as he was about to enter the scorching temple—
“Satoru, no!” Suguru grabbed him, restraining him with his own body. “Get back!”
“No!” he screamed at him frantically. “She is there! Suguru, let go—!”
And then the worst happened, as the pagoda completely crumbled into a heap of rubble. Satoru's breath was knocked out of him as he faced the reality that he couldn't save you in time. And he felt like losing his consciousness as he wheezed, and thrashed in Suguru's hold.
It was all too much for him to comprehend as he struggled against the devastation before him.
How... did this happen? You were happy. You were about to welcome a child into your lives! The two of you really were...
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SEVERAL WEEKS PRIOR
Your husband is trying to use you to wage a war... against your homeland.
You secluded yourself in your study, trying to make sense what you just overheard.
In a broader perspective, Satoru's actions could be constituted as national defense. If he perceived the Eastern Empire as a threat, then countermeasures were indeed necessary. But if not...
Regardless, it was not the very idea that blew you, but how he planned to use you to sway sentiment in your former country, to weaken them.
Is that what he's been aiming all this time? You felt like a hypocrite to question this since you too were using him. But these days, you were certainly not using him—you were falling in love with him.
It was strange, because you were supposed to be furious if that was his intent from the start. Yet what you felt right now was profound sadness, possibly even denial and heartbreak. You kept thinking how there must be another explanation—
“Sweetheart, hello~!”
You were startled when the door to your study was suddenly flung open, and the man from your thoughts strode in with a broad grin, completely oblivious to your inner turmoil.
"Satoru." You fixed him with a genial smile, even as nausea churned within you. Straightening your skirts, you looked up at him.
"I've been told you haven't been well, and Shoko said you've seen the physician," Satoru frowned, his long fingers cradling your face as he half-sat on your desk. "How did it go? What did he say?"
"Oh..." you clammed up, feeling at loss. "He said..."
Your dashing husband tilted his head curiously, bright eyes softened, worried lines etched on his face were so clear... and despite your conflict, you didn't have the heart to deny him this news.
"I'm with child." This time, your smile was genuine as you pushed back your intrusive thoughts. "Satoru... I'm carrying our child."
For a full ten seconds, Satoru was stunned, staring at you with a blank expression, his lips slightly parted. "H-huh...? Child? A... baby?"
"Mm-hm. A living baby."
"O-oh..." Satoru blinked his eyes rapidly—looking at your face, then your abdomen—before his expression broke into absolute wonder, broadly grinning. "T-that's... oh— it's—!"
To say he was speechless didn't cut it as he stuttered, messed his hair, pinched his own cheek, becoming restless yet looking so incredibly giddy—
"My queen!" Satoru suddenly lifted you and spun you around midair. "My beautiful wife—!" before gently sitting you on the desk and burying his face in your skirts, hugging your waist tightly. "Good lord, I'm— I'm so—!"
It hadn't truly dawned on you until now that you were going to become a mother. Witnessing Satoru's unabashed reaction as he nestled his face into you… nearly brought tears to your eyes.
Right in this moment, you didn't entertain any other thoughts. You were deeply moved by your husband's overwhelming excitement for your baby. And the realization that, despite Naoya's accusations—
Satoru looked up at you the second you sniffled, and he immediately drew you closer, pressing his forehead against yours.
"Hey, no tears, yeah?" He rested a hand on your jaw, his eyes sparkling with utter adoration as he gazed at you. "This is wonderful. We're going to be parents. This child... a part of you and me—we're going to bring them into the world."
You tugged his collar close and brushed your lips against his. And he responded with equal fervor. You yearned for this closeness with him.
. . .
But still in the back of your head, that lingering, buried fear whispered—
Is the man who adores you this much... capable of hurting you to the same extent?
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With your bare bodies pressed closely, and you under him, Satoru could sense the rapid beat of your heart. And in return, you felt the heat of his palms against your skin and the tremors in his breath.
Yet now, in your marital bed, it quickly became clear to him that you, who were usually so composed and collected, were nervous. Satoru couldn't suppress the smile spreading across his face even if he tried.
"This is far from our first time, Empress." His coy smirk taunted you as he littered kisses along your jawline and chest. "What are you so jittery about, hmm?"
"Ah..." you let out a soft sigh as he sucked your breast with his mouth. "N-nothing... you're mistaken."
"Hmm... not confessing? Right..." He then grabbed the generous mound of your other breast and fondled it, making you squirm and moan.
But in the midst of this eroticism, suddenly your mind was thrown back to—
“That’s why I have her here.”
"Satoru," you breathed out, catching his hands. He looked up to you in slight surprise, thinking that you wanted to stop.
But he was in for a plot twist when you first pushed him, then flipped him underneath you, straddling him and capturing his lush lips, yanking his hair in the process.
"Whoa— hey..." Satoru held your hips, visibly startled but clearly enjoying your sudden whim, snickering. "My queen—ohh— you're a sight to behold, on top of me."
He grabbed the flesh of your bottom, sinking his fingers into it and pulling you forward. You let yourself be moved until your thighs were next to his ears.
Suddenly, it was, at once, the most peculiar experience—the greatest confidence boost you had ever received, and the hottest thing he had ever seen.
"You're so damn wet already," your husband nipped your inner thigh playfully as he observed your folds, and you gasped. "Are you ready?"
In response, you slammed yourself onto his face because, right now, you were in a less than forgiving mood.
"You look good under me," you darkly retorted, but then you choked on your own breath when your husband started licking your folds messily with his tongue.
Satoru smirked at the sound of your breathless noises, responding by lapping even more fervently. Your fingers tangled in his hair, tightening their grip on his scalp as you began to grind yourself against his face.
"You a-are really n-nasty!" you moaned, voice breaking at the feeling his sinful tongue parting your opening. "Maybe y-you have lied to me… all th-is time."
Satoru furrowed his brows in slight confusion, and perhaps a bit of annoyance, as he pinched your clit in retaliation, causing you to draw in a sharp breath.
"You're— awful!" but contrary to your claims, your face contorted with pleasure as the tight coil in your belly spasmed. "How m-many women... h-have you beguiled like m-me?"
He almost laughed into your ass. Literally. If being called awful was the price for pleasuring the most beautiful woman in the lands, then Satoru would be happy to be that horrible person every day of his life.
But then, you suddenly shifted on top of him, no longer positioning your hips in his face, and he quickly caught your face, crashing his lips against yours so both of you wouldn’t part for even a second.
"Nobody else," he murmured, wet lips and tongue ravishing yours, so much lust glistening in his eyes. "I'm all yours— forever." Just as he whispered it amidst pants, he groaned when your hand sneakily went to his very hard length.
And firmly grasped it. He got swollen just by tasting you and hearing your noises earlier. He growled, and against his senses, he pushed you down to lodge it inside you, penetrating and splitting you apart in one go.
“Ah—! Satoru— it’s too…!” you babbled breathlessly, your nails digging into his shoulders, feeling his huge cock pulsing inside your tight walls.
“Your fault,” he rebuked, eyes narrowing into darker shades, rigorously moving his hips against yours as he sat up. It was impossible to hold it in any longer, he could feel it already.
He tensed up, adjusting his position, so close to losing it inside you, and when he heard your dirty mewls and felt you shudder—reverberating through his body too—Satoru gripped your waist tighter, groaning, holding you in place to release his load inside you with precision.
Your body gave in as well, releasing at the same moment his cum burst inside you. Your vision blurred as the nastiest of moans escaped you, yet you felt so safe as your husband caught you in his arms.
. . .
"Are you okay?" Satoru asked worriedly after you rolled off him in the aftermath of your bliss. "Do you feel sick?" Your unfocused eyes met his, and he looked panicked, pulling you closer. "Shit, did I go too far? I shouldn't have, especially with the baby still in the early stages..."
"I'm... okay," you croaked, trying to reassure him. "Just tired..."
Heaving a relieved sigh, Satoru pecked you in the lips.
"Am I... a mess?" you leaned on him with a blissful smile, feeling his cum still trickling out between your legs.
"Yeah... My beautiful mess, that is." Satoru chuckled, reveling in the state of your disarray. "Soon enough," his hands traced your skin before settling on your tummy, a fond smile curving his lips. "Our baby will grow here."
"Yes—" you replied, placing your palm over his. "Do you... want a boy or girl?"
A boy would be the much sought-after prince, and you fully expected him to favor it, until to your surprise, Satoru lightly hummed and pressed a kiss on your belly button.
"Does that matter? What's important is you deliver them safely and they're healthy," he chuckled. "A princess will be nice... she'll turn out to be as lovely as you."
"But the heir has to be a prince..."
"Nah. I can always amend the succession norms. I'm the emperor."
And you giggled next. Seeing how free you looked, Satoru thought you were the woman overturning his skies and stars, and you truly are—as now you are the mother of his own flesh and blood, his future empire.
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There will be a nation-wide celebration for you. Satoru insisted it was a must, and he would invite dignitaries from neighboring empires and kingdoms as well.
Including the Eastern Empire.
. . .
“Your Majesty. I... bring a gift and an invitation from the Western Empire.”
Naoya clacked his heel on the carpet, casting a sharp, yet uninterested look at his aide.
“There will be a celebration for—” the poor man gulped uneasily, faltering as if he could foresee how his emperor would react. Naoya scowled.
“Spit it out.”
“The former empress’ pregnancy, Your Majesty!”
“What...?” At that moment, he snapped his head towards him. It felt like everything he had ever known came crashing down. “Y/N...?”
That can’t be possible. For many years both of you had failed. That was why he took that maid and divorced you. No, upon reflection, it was never truly his intention to divorce you—he had wanted you to raise that child if you couldn't bear one.
But then you completely ignored him and had an affair with Gojo Satoru. He was furious. He couldn't bear the disgrace of it all, so he went with the divorce, if only to assert some control. However, the joke was on him, as you ultimately fled with Gojo entirely.
But if you aren’t infertile... Then, what did that make him?
Numerous thoughts ran through his mind. Was it possible that it was his child instead of Gojo’s? How many months had it been anyway?
...or could it be that he is the one who is—!
“No...” he muttered, frantic, taking sharp breaths. “Absolute rubbish!”
The aide stared at him in fear, as Naoya appeared unhinged now. But soon, that fear gave away to pity, as the emperor trashed his desk and howled in frustration— but contrary to the expected fury, Naoya looked like he was mourning, evident by the way he flung everything but the very portrait from his coronation day.
Of him and you. Even after that disastrous divorce, he had never taken it down from the wall of his study. Now, Naoya was staring at it, a multitude emotions clouding his eyes.
This man, just as the aide had always thought, has thrown away the only good thing he has in his life.
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“Are the invitations sent already?” Satoru asked with a blooming smile, rolling the yarn out of his cat’s reach as the poor kitty grappled to catch it. “And how are the preparations going?”
“Banquets are usually handled by the Empress, but you really go out of your way and do it instead,” Suguru shook his head, unamused by the added workload it brought him, especially considering his disinterest in festivities.
“They’re all sent, some of them responded—before you ask, Naoya hasn’t— and I’ve cascaded the preparation to Shoko, since I have no clue what to do about it.”
“Well, not that I care if he’s going to stay sour and wants his name tarnished in the daily papers as a bitter ex-husband…” Satoru shrugged, petting Sugu-chan as the cat purred contentedly. “He is tactless, he very well might be.”
“You really want to spite him, don’t you…” Suguru sighed. “You even sent him a note. It was unnecessary.”
“He was the one hurling curses at me and my empress first. I’m just returning the favor.”
The note in question was of lines after lines of flowery nonsense about gratitude and whatnot. Satoru imagined Naoya's vein would burst after reading his card.
“I’m happy for you, Satoru.” As exasperated as Suguru was, his smile was genuine when he said it. “A royal baby, huh...”
"Suguru." The emperor's voice suddenly dropped an octave, surprising him. "What about the placement of the totem I told you the other day?"
The abrupt shift in conversation made Suguru visibly uncomfortable, and again, they were back to this topic.
"You're seriously going to do this?" the duke asked, almost in disbelief. "Satoru, you're going to become a father. You have everything already. This will lead to war one way or another, and—what if the Empress finds out? How do you think it'll make her feel?"
However, Satoru's gaze was cold as he dismissed most of Suguru's tirade. There was a chill in his expression that made his longtime friend inwardly questioned who the man before him was.
"I'm asking you. Have you done it or not, Suguru?"
"You're going to put a curse on a whole village, Satoru."
"I told Zen'in Naoya the moment I got Y/N, that it would mark the beginning of his downfall. I'm making good on that promise."
Suguru pressed his eyes shut to calm his fury. Morally, what Satoru did was wrong, but politically, this was the art of war. Suguru purely opposed to this out of consideration for you.
Few understood Satoru's actions as well as Suguru did. He might understand, others like you and Shoko wouldn't.
"Just remember, when the Empress catches wind of this, she's going to resent you," Suguru warned. "No matter what your reasoning might be."
Satoru's upper lip curled upwards, his eyes bereft of light, narrowing with indifference.
"Unless you never tell her, that is of no relevance."
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Love... has he ever loved you all this time?
Naoya had never been confronted with that question or pondered it, simply because he never considered love existed within the context of something as grand as monarchy.
You were chosen because you were well-bred and well-versed in the arts of nobility. You were indeed the epitome of an ideal empress, a fact evident throughout your tenure.
But...
"Naoya!" you yelled at him and caught his hand. "You're a fool! Why did you keep doing that!?"
It was a long-buried memory, when you were still in your teens, around the time you were just made the crown princess. His hands, bruised and bloodied, and you tended to them.
"I'm not weak, you know," he sullenly barked. "I have to train to be stronger."
"You definitely have to train, yes... but you have to take breaks!" you retorted angrily.
"Why do you care so much anyway?" he snapped back. "It's not like your hands that are injured."
And that moment, you were suddenly almost in tears. Naoya never understood why.
"Don't cry." But his instincts told him to make you not cry. "Don't cry. I'm fine, see?"
. . .
Zen'in Naoya jerked awake from his slumber, realizing he had forgotten what his dream was, that it was still the late afternoon, and he was still in his study.
All he felt was that nostalgic feeling, and it intensified when he glanced up... only to see his coronation portrait on the wall.
It was almost as if you were still here. You were incredibly stunning, he had to admit that. Why hadn’t he realized until just recently?
The way your crimson dress flowed out, and that thin, serene smile on your face... you were a picture-perfect empress, and that was not an exaggeration. No one could measure up to you—
"Your Majesty~!"
Especially not Hanabi.
"Your Majesty, the princess has started holding her head up!" Hanabi, now no longer dressed in rags but rather in one of your dresses, excitedly remarking, "Soon, she will start to—"
Naoya's gaze fell on her dress. He recognized it instantly. That specific deep, vibrant shade of red with serpent-like waistband. It was one of his gifts to you for your birthday. "Why are you wearing that?"
"Huh?" she seems perplexed. "Oh this... I thought it looks pretty..."
But to her surprise, he suddenly flared with fury. "That isn't yours, you dullard," he spat out.
Her expression sank in heartbreak as he continued with his venomous speech. "Know your place." His words cut like a blade. "And I keep telling you, a princess is of no use to the throne!"
Hanabi fought to hold back the tears, because not only had he insulted her, worse still, he showed no interest in their daughter. "She is still of your blood, Your Majesty," she replied, her voice trembling.
"I told you, I only want a heir." His sneer caused her eyes to widen in shock. "Other than that, I won't care."
"Your Majesty, please—" Hanabi was desperate for him to acknowledge their daughter, when she caught sight of your ethereal face on the wall.
He still hasn't taken it down. It made her eyes twitch, and her own anger to rise.
"The former empress..." she stared at your picture resentfully. "You still have her here. We never even have our portraits painted..."
Naoya's icy gaze leveled at her without a hint of sympathy, despite the woman standing before him being the mother of his child.
"Why do you look at me like that?" Hanabi asked, tears spilling from her eyes. "You used to care for me when you thought I would bear you a son. Even if it's a daughter, she deserves love too, doesn't she?"
In the last five years, she had come to know that the emperor wasn't always this manic person. He used to be gentler, or at least not as vindictive.
And she never truly wanted you to be cast away like that. She looked up to you, admired you from up close, and meant it when she said she would carry your legacy as best as she could.
"Are you dumb?" Naoya barked. "I told you to know your place!"
...yet why? Why are people in this palace so harsh to her?
“I wish you luck on that, Hanabi. Beware, the emperor is fickle…”
Your unkind eyes, Naoya's disdainful stares even after she gave birth to his child... She didn't even care about becoming the empress anymore. She just wanted a happy life!
"If it was the former empress' child... even if it was a princess..." Hanabi turned to him with determination even amidst her pitiful tears. "You wouldn't cast her aside just like you do now with my daughter, would you, Your Majesty?"
Naoya's gaze, devoid of emotion and filled with blatant disinterest more than anything, shot through her, hurting her more than if it was filled with fury instead.
The lack of warmth in his stare made her feel like being looked through rather than being seen. As if she is that insignificant.
"Leave," he ordered coldly next, turning his back on her.
And there is her answer.
Hanabi had been your maid for five long years. She knew who you were, what you stood for, and your whole demeanor. Yet, despite her best efforts, she could never emulate you in the same way, could she?
. . .
"My lady... don't you know that the former empress is with child?"
Once again, Hanabi felt the sting of ice when her lady-in-waiting delivered the news.
"Empress... Y/N?" she whispered. "How...?"
You were stripped of your titles here, and yet you still remained a queen somewhere else. Hanabi might have won Naoya's favor, but now she was losing it while you had another emperor's affection.
Not much had changed about you. You still occupied the highest seat a woman could possibly attain. Whereas she...
"But she is barren!" she turned to her confidant then, almost in disbelief.
"Evidently not. Emperor Gojo has proven that."
How nice. A part of Hanabi wanted to congratulate you because she knew of your sufferings—how much you longed to hold a baby from your womb in your arms.
How unfair... But another part of her couldn't help but despise you. Because even in your absence, she still had to live in your shadow. Because you, who had lost everything, regained it all so easily.
"And my lady... Emperor Gojo is going to throw a banquet for this occasion next month. You are expected to attend it."
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"Sweetheart, you asleep?"
One night, several weeks later, just as you were about to drift off to sleep, you felt the sheets shift as Satoru slipped into bed beside you.
Though you didn't turn to face him, you felt his warm hands wrap around your waist from behind.
"Satoru... you're back," you murmured sleepily.
"Mm-hmm," he whispered, pulling you closer to his chest and burying his face in your hair, taking in your scent. "Shoko told me you've been in your bedchamber since breakfast. Are you okay?"
"I get queasy if I walk too much, so I've been lying down all day... But don't worry, the physician said it's normal in early stages of pregnancy."
His grip on you tightened, as he caressed your belly. "Hmm, naughty baby. I'm sorry I wasn't here..."
"Where were you?"
For days now, he had been away, and you hadn't really questioned him. You had your guesses though—
"I was overseeing the construction of a new pagoda," he said softly, kissing your neck. "For you, actually."
That was so unexpected that it made you open your eyes fully. "What— for me?" Building pagoda was definitely not a small affair. Usually it was for religious purposes.
"It's a gift to the heavens for blessing me with you and our baby. It's expected to be completed before your celebration banquet."
The tower would be the testament of his love for you and your unborn child. Despite yourself, your heart swelled with overwhelming warmth.
"You're so silly... why do you spend the tax funds for that?" you brushed off the faint heat in your face, not daring to look at him still.
"Whatever I wouldn't do for you?" he cheekily retorted, chuckling.
You had never felt this cherished before, and this time you were certain—you were more than ready to fall in love with this man.
But he... is planning to use you, isn't he?
"Satoru." You shuffled to turn and face him, causing him to crack his lidded eyes open. You gazed at him, placing both of your hands on his face, caressing his face softly.
You're so kind to me. I appreciate you for that. You wanted to tell him various things, but the darkness in your heart ever since overhearing his exchange with Suguru made it hard for you to do so.
"Mm? What is it?" he drawled with a small smile, leaning into your touch.
“You... love me, don't you?”
His bright eyes found yours then, sharp and steady. An impossibly fond smile graced his lips, as if finding what you said the most natural thing there was.
“Throughout heaven and earth,” he proclaimed, his voice steady to match his eyes. “Yes, my queen.”
...then you would trust him, if only just for this moment. The genuine sincerity in his eyes, the raw authenticity in his words... it all felt too real.
And so, even when you were well-aware of the bitter possibility of truth, you leaned in and kissed him, giving yourself to his touch as his hand slipped inside you.
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And soon, came the day of the lavish banquet solely held to celebrate your pregnancy.
You were seated on your throne, dressed in a stunning aquamarine gown. The skirt of the dress was full and flowing, spilling onto the floor in a waterfall of shimmering fabric. Upon your head perched your crown of diamonds, glinting beneath the light, and your ceremonial veil to make you look as queenly as you could possibly be.
Everyone would agree that you were a sight to behold, and that you were worthy of every praise possible.
"Many congratulations to you, Your Majesty."
"This is a splendid news! A royal baby!"
"To think that the emperor has settled down... sniff, how long have we been waiting for this...? We almost gave up."
You almost giggled at the way Archbishop Yaga wiped his tears with a handkerchief as he presented you with his gift.
Despite your initial reservations, you enjoyed the festivities more than you expected. You had opposed the idea at first, finding it quite unnecessary, but Satoru had pouted for three long days until you eventually relented to appease him.
Speaking of him, he was equally dressed to impress, looking every bit as an emperor he was in an exquisite aquamarine military uniform and robes. Despite engaging in conversation with Earl Nanami, he kept a watchful eye on you, stealing glances in your direction to ensure you were well.
You nodded at him, and he threw you a wink. You smiled.
Everything was truly going well... until the herald announced:
"Prince Megumi and Royal Consort Hanabi from Eastern Empire!"
There was suddenly a hush over the crowd as the two made their entrance. You stilled, looking at the figure responsible for your checkered life—
Hanabi was starkly different since the last you saw her at the courthouse during your divorce. Her dress was now a vibrant shade of burgundy red, reminiscent of a gown you once wore. Gone was her air of humility, replaced by a display of extravagance befitting a noblewoman.
She is no longer your maid, but Naoya's consort. There was no trace of the woman who once served you. You were actually impressed, as she could actually shape herself into the image of a royal consort.
"Empress." However, your attention quickly shifted to Naoya's nephew, and once also your ward, Megumi, as he bowed before you respectfully. "Congratulations."
A fond smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you regarded the young prince who had once been a very shy individual. It reminded you of the days spent with him just to get him out of his shell.
"Thank you, Megumi."
"Diamonds suit you far better than golds do. I wish only for the best for you, Your Majesty."
It warmed your heart, really. Using that reference to your gold crown from your time in the Eastern Empire, you could see how much Megumi truly understood your position and bore no resentment towards you.
Could the same be said for Naoya though?
Right after you received his gift—an ornate box that seemed oddly familiar to you—Hanabi suddenly blurted out:
"So, fate has smiled upon you. Congratulations Empress Y/N." She kept that soft, meaningful smile on her face as she offered her felicitations.
Ever since her arrival was announced, something about her demeanor had bothered you. There was a subtle emptiness that seemed to linger in her gaze.
"Thank you," you responded, and that was when you noticed it. There was never any celebration for the birth of her daughter and Naoya, only a passing announcement.
And so, you added. "Congratulations on the birth of the princess too."
You could have sworn her expression fell for a moment, but she quickly regained her composure and bowed her head to you.
For a while, you lost sight of her in the crowd, feeling quite comfortable in your dais. Soon after, Satoru returned to your side, and the herald announced:
"Attention! His Majesty the Emperor's gift for Her Majesty the Empress!"
You looked at Satoru questioningly, and he gave you a dashing smirk before turning to the crowd.
"Thank you, all of you, for joining us to celebrate this joyous occasion." The way he carried himself and the sheer confidence he exuded was mesmerizing, you couldn't deny how it made you swoon. "I've been infamous for many things, and I'm sure the tales have spread far and wide. So please, allow me one more gesture with you as the witnesses."
The crowd giggled at his words, and you finally spotted Hanabi among them, quietly assessing the scene.
Your husband turned to you, a soft smile on his face.
"This is for you my empress— my lovely queen. Words can't describe how elated I am to know that now you bear our child." He took your hand and pressed a kiss on it. "And it's only fitting that I praise you along with the skies and the stars."
A footman arrived and presented a pearly box. Satoru opened it, revealing a necklace inside. The centerpiece was a large, flawless diamond surrounded by smaller, perfectly cut stones of the same kind. No matter how you saw it, it was truly a work of art, meant to captivate and dazzle anyone who laid eyes on it.
You let out a gasp. "This..."
Satoru grinned, picking up the jewelry and preparing to place it on you. "Nothing much. Just a little trinket for you."
"This is not just a 'little trinket'!"
Your banter elicited another round of snickers from the audience as Satoru fastened the necklace around your neck. The moment he did, the crowd erupted into applause.
"Actually, my real gift is the new pagoda in the royal gardens, built in honor of the Empress," Satoru stated effortlessly, grinning unabashedly. "Feel free to stop by later, everyone."
To the ton, for him to gift you with something so sacred was the height of extravagance. Some of them wondered how you had managed to turn the elusive emperor into someone so devoted to you.
And a few... might be harboring ill will against you for it.
. . .
Later that night, you were sorting through the gifts you had received throughout the day.
"I don't understand, why would you give an expecting woman this?" Shoko picked apart a manuscript that was the gift from Archbishop Yaga. "Who would read this?"
"I wouldn't, but I'm sure Duke Geto would," you replied, and soon the two of you were giggling together.
From jewelry to ornaments, you were pleased with all the gifts presented by the guests from day one. While most were given out of formality, it was heartwarming to imagine your baby seeing all these someday.
Your attention soon turned to the box Megumi handed you earlier—Naoya's gift.
You were intrigued, because what could your spiteful ex-husband could possibly give you? And you immediately reached over to open the lid to find...
"What's that?" Shoko asked as your eyes widened in slight surprise.
Inside the box was an intricate gold and ruby necklace. One you knew well. The very one you wore during your coronation as the Empress of the Eastern Empire.
Years ago, Naoya himself had chosen this piece for you, and now he was gifting it to you, again?
“From now on, it’s going to be me and you, Empress.”
Reliving years of your marriage with him wasn't easy. You two were childhood sweethearts, and had been happy in the beginning. You couldn't pinpoint when things began to fall apart, but suddenly Naoya turned into such a person you didn't recognize altogether.
Seeing this relic made you nostalgic, and before you realized it, you touched it, trying to get a better look—
"Ah—!"
Suddenly, a sharp, unexpected pain shot through your abdomen. You instantly dropped the jewelry, letting it crash to the ground, and clutched your lower belly.
"Empress! What happened?!" Shoko rushed to your side in an instant, holding you up, and you whimpered.
"It hurts—!" Your breath hitched, as a seemingly invisible knife gutted you from inside. The intensity of the pain was overwhelming, leaving you gasping for breath. "Shoko, please—"
And before you could even scream or think, the pain blindsided you and your vision titled, before blacking out completely.
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First came the warmth, then a reassuring squeeze on your hand. As your consciousness returned, you felt groggy, with your surroundings sharpening into focus.
The first thing that became your main focus the moment your eyes fluttered open was Satoru's face, a mixture of fright and relief etched across his features.
"You're awake..." He breathlessly muttered, sitting on your bedside, interlacing his fingers with yours. "How do you feel?"
"Sa...toru..." your voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper, and as soon as he heard you speak, he exhaled sharply, pulling you into a tight embrace.
"Heavens, I—" he let out a long sigh, his breath hot against your neck. "I'm so glad... you are..."
"What h-happened to me...?" you were feeling feverish and a dull throb was pounding at the back of your head, before the shock of it all dawned on you. "B-baby...! Our—!"
"Baby is okay too, don't worry," Satoru assured, pulling away from you to gently touch your cheek and squeeze your hand. "Both of you are fine for now..."
The horror that you might lose your baby shook you to the very core. Your vision blurred with the threatening onset of tears.
"Wh-at happened to me, Satoru...?" you asked again as he wiped your first falling tears, your heartbeat sounding so loud in your ears. "I-I was just..."
His expression took on a sudden shift, as if a dark cloud had passed over his face.
"You came into contact with a cursed object," he stated, his eyes hard as he locked onto yours. "You were cursed, Y/N."
"What...?" You were rendered speechless, feeling your body starting to shake. Cursed object? Your past coronation necklace?
Naoya was trying to curse you?
"It's okay, I'm here now, yeah?" Satoru's voice broke through your spiraling thoughts, grounding you in the present. "Look at me. Hey, look at me." he repeated, his deep blue eyes locking onto yours with intensity.
“I’m here. I’m here with you. Nothing—absolutely nothing—will touch you so long as I’m here.”
But in that moment, your mind was so overwhelmed with fear for yourself and your unborn baby that you couldn't fully grasp the magnitude of the mess unfolding before you, and you just cried in his arms.
Feeling your feeble fingers fisting his robes and your inconsolable tears staining his collar, Satoru gritted his teeth.
“This won't happen again,” he whispered into your hair, feeling his rage simmering as he felt the tremors of your sobs against his chest. “I swear, I won't let anything like this happen again.”
To Satoru, that was more than enough to justify all his subsequent actions. Putting a curse on his empress essentially amounted to an act of beginning a war.
And it also meant he no longer had to operate behind the scenes.
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“Keep them in Clock Tower. No contact. Only food and water at designated times.”
Satoru's icy gaze on the captain of royal guard compelled him to hastily comply with the order, before his eyes landing on the map of the entire continent.
In response to the incident that befell you, he issued orders for open hostility along the eastern and western borders. Soon after, he would formally declare his intention to go to war.
So close. He was so close to achieving his end goal.
. . .
"Satoru!"
Several days later, Suguru burst into his study, visibly outraged. He clenched his fists, looking as if he was about to throttle him altogether.
"You—" he heaved a harsh breath. "You have gone too far!"
"What are you talking about, Suguru?"
"Is cursing the entire winery village not enough for you?" This was the first time Suguru had been this furious with him. "Did you really have to massacre the neighboring district as well?!"
"They have placed a curse on my empress." It was so easy for him to say it. "Anyone who dares to harm her shall die."
"You can direct it at Zen'in Naoya! Not the innocent civilians!"
Satoru remained silent, neither shaken nor enraged, and he had finally had enough.
“Are you even sure it’s because the empress is cursed?" Suguru challenged. In his view, this farce had been going on too long.
“No, Satoru. You are just using her. For so long, you have wanted to bring bloodshed to Western Empire. You were almost there when Empress Y/N proposed that deal to marry you.”
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You were informed, days later.
“His Majesty has placed the prince and royal consort of the Western Empire under strict watch in Clock Tower.”
Clock Tower was essentially the prison where they kept war criminals. Learning that Satoru had confined both Megumi and Hanabi there left you aghast.
After some days of bedrest and getting better, you realized that the entire situation still didn't make sense to you. As hateful as Naoya was, harming you would do him more harm than good. Eastern and Western Empires stood evenly matched in military power, and hence, a conflict between them would bring devastation to both sides.
And moreover, you knew for sure was that Megumi was definitely not the one responsible for this. He was just a boy!
You had to let him out somehow. You had to talk to Satoru about this.
Or at least that was what you thought when you came close to his study.
“Are you even sure it's because the empress is cursed? No, Satoru. You are just using her. For so long, you have wanted to bring bloodshed to Western Empire. You were almost there when Empress Y/N proposed that deal to marry you.”
You stopped on your tracks—stunned into place, to be exact.
“And you’ve struck gold when she did because her influence will provide you with greater advantage.” Suguru scoffed then, lightly shaking his head with a sneer. “Love? How laughable. All these years, you are planning your warpath, how could you claim you love her when you're trying to ravage her homeland without even considering the impact it would have on her?”
It felt like whiplash. Geto Suguru's voice had your feet rooted to the spot, causing all your doubts to resurface and sizzle in an instant. The very question you had tried to avoid, it was suddenly shoved in your face.
What... will Satoru say? Your heart thumped so loud in your ears it made you almost stagger. He couldn't possibly. He simply couldn't. All his actions... they reflected his affection for you and you believed it because you felt it yourself too.
But Satoru's next response was—
“Even when she is derided as the devil, I will bring an end to the Zen’in line in this lifetime.”
And a part of your heart withers then.
The tips of your fingers trembled, finally taking in everything that you had tried to ignore for the past few weeks. It all caught up to you in one overwhelming rush.
Suddenly, it felt as if something inside your chest was torn out and held up for you to see.
"I'm telling you, that day will come sooner than you think, Satoru." Suguru's voice broke through, his frustration palpable. His words snapped you out of your reverie, and you took a step back, retreating to the safety of your study.
The first time you felt utter hollowness wrecking you was when you had suspected that Naoya might have taken Hanabi to his bed. The feelings overwhelming you now were eerily similar to how you felt back then.
Only in this case…
You had used him first, and if he used you in return... you couldn't fault him.
But isn't it still a bitter truth, even when a mutual transaction is very well within his rights, to know that what you believe as love may apparently not really be the case?
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Love... of course, he loves you.
Of that, he was certain.
But at the same time… he had his ambitions.
Destroying the Eastern Empire. Was it so wrong that he wanted it? Didn't you want this as well? After all, Naoya had spurned you for a lowly servant and made your life hell, didn’t he?
Satoru strolled through the halls and made his way to your study, where the sight of you, so pretty and regal in your seat, greeted him.
His beautiful, graceful wife and empress of his nation. For so long, he had desired you, and now here you were, perched within his walls. His heart couldn't be more full— his life is complete already.
"Sweetheart, hey... how are you feeling today?" an adoring grin was visible on his face as he approached you. "Does the baby give you trouble today?"
You didn't answer though, and didn't look at him either. It was quite strange, Satoru thought.
"What's wrong? Is there something—" And when you finally turned to him, the look in your eyes was so eerily cold it almost gave him a chill.
"Release Megumi from your dungeon," you told him with a strained tone. "And return him to his home empire."
The smile on Satoru's face vanished that instant.
"I can't do that."
You rose from your seat, facing him. "He is just a child."
Satoru regarded you with a stern look. “That child you speak about is a prince of the Eastern Empire. He has committed a great crime against you.”
“Naoya didn’t do it.” Your steely gaze was unflinching. “He might be senseless, but he isn’t insane enough to deliberately go into a war he might possibly lose.”
Satoru's eyes darkened at your words, as you stood before him with determination. The way you were so adamant somehow took him aback. “How... could you defend him? He has wronged you!”
It was one question you had expected, and you had the answer ready.
“Even if he has, I could never wish doom upon my own homeland, Satoru. I’ve lived most of my life there, I did a great deal of things there— even if you harbor some sort of misguided contempt or just bloodthirsty enough to lay ruin to Eastern Empire, I refuse to be the puppet for your schemes!”
There it was. You had said it. Everything would crumble once again just like your previous marriage.
Satoru was staring at you in slight disbelief, his eyes gleamed with something that you couldn't really pinpoint. Anger? Disappointment?
“Your life was in danger, as was our unborn child’s. Don’t you care about that—!” he actually had to stop to catch his breath. “Don’t you care that our child nearly didn't make it?”
“And? You must have thought it was the perfect grounds for declaring a war?” but you didn’t relent and questioned him with a scoff. “And afterwards, you would try to use me to gain defectors from Eastern Empire, is that it?”
You saw the flash of surprise in your now-husband's eyes right when you recited his words, but you weren't about to hold back any longer now.
“Now you’re using my safety to justify your actions,” you hissed, feeling like suddenly you understood what all of this was. “You’re quite cunning, Satoru. I’ve heard everything—you will do anything to bring an end to the Zen'in lineage! You won’t even consider the repercussions of my reputation being tarnished across the lands!”
“Is that even important now?” Satoru gritted his teeth to suppress his irritation. “You have been cursed. Do you honestly think I would let them get away with cursing my empress? How could I, who seek to protect you, be more vicious than whoever in Eastern Empire who cursed you with that necklace?”
“You’re doing this for your personal gratification!” you exclaimed. “It is never about me. You’re just a warmonger!”
The moment those words left your lips, Satoru stilled. His gaze on you faltered, and you could’ve sworn hurt flashed in his face.
“Just how low… is your opinion of me?” he asked, his tone dropping, eyes devoid of emotion. “You jump into conclusions only after overhearing something in a passing and yet you know for sure Naoya wouldn’t harm you—” he clenched his jaw.
“You… really loved him, didn’t you?” he asked with a sardonic smile. “I know it already. You won’t ever be able to do the same for me. You can’t even trust me.”
You were rendered speechless. Despite your doubts of him, hearing this still felt like a slap in your face.
Won’t be able to do the same for him? No. That’s not true. You are—
Satoru let out a defeated laugh and ran his hand through his hair, leaving you uncertain whether he was amused or heartbroken by your lack of response.
“It’s funny, how I have loved you for so long... but apparently the woman I believed to have even a semblance of affection for me doesn’t even exist.”
It felt like that one part of you that was capable of feeling love had been stabbed once again.
To say this out loud hurt you deeply, unbeknownst to him. You didn’t mean this at all, still it was what came out of you, out of spite—
“In the end, we’re just using each other. That’s all we amount to.”
Satoru bitterly snorted, finding your accusation so unfair to him.
“How cruel is it that I’m the only one who has to prove this love to you? What about you? You’re terribly, horribly selfish!”
You stayed silent, looking away, caught between the scorching knives that seemed to twist your heart and conflicting emotions in it, uncertain of what to believe anymore. And you didn't really know what heartbreak was like before—
“It has been really exhausting, and I don’t want to bother anymore.”
When his gaze next met yours, dark and piercing, you realized he was no longer the same man who once promised you love and devotion.
“You're free to believe whatever truth you wish. But remember, even if you are my wife and the empress of this nation, should you commit any transgressions… I won’t hesitate to accuse you of treason, Empress.”
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You have committed treason.
Satoru had conducted investigation of the sorts just to prove his point. And yet days later, no direct evidence pointing towards Megumi or Hanabi were found in that cursed necklace.
Punishment for treason is imminent death. You were well-aware of that more than anyone, but your consciousness wouldn't allow it if Megumi had to be hanged due to Satoru's antagonism.
"Your Majesty, your kindness knows no bounds," Megumi said, dropping to one knee before you and lowering his head in the throne room. Satoru had chosen not to grace any of you with his presence, leaving you alone to bid farewell to both Megumi and Hanabi.
Since then, you hadn't spoken with him, nor had he visited your chambers. It was as if he considered you nonexistent at all.
And it is really only a matter of time before he finds out.
But at the very least, you were right. It was never Megumi. That boy was fond of you, he could never. So, you shifted your gaze on the woman next to him.
"Royal Consort Hanabi. A word."
It was the cue for everyone else to exit the throne room. Now, you were faced with this woman once again, and yet one thing remained the same— you were still towering over her.
"Why did you do it?" Your calm gaze betrayed a quiet anger that was unmistakably clear. All because of this woman. It was beyond you, how despite having left your past life behind, she had somehow managed to taint your new one as well.
Hanabi looked away, a hint of shame coloring her features. "Your Majesty knows, so why do you spare me?" she asked quietly.
"How preposterous of you to think that I have spared you," you scoffed. "All this time, have you learned nothing at all from standing by Naoya's side?"
She flinched, visibly making herself smaller at your unforgiving tone, still, she dared herself to meet your eyes.
"Can I ask... why you never consider it as Emperor Naoya's doing?" she seemed more confused more than anything, even as her lips wobbled. "The two of you... you don't really hate each other, so why...?"
You didn't want to dwell on why Naoya had chosen that specific piece of jewelry to return to you. If anything, you'd consider it his final parting gift and be done with it.
But the naivety of this woman was astounding. Someone like her wouldn't last long in your seat. You let out a sigh, torn between feeling sorry for her or not.
"You have much to learn about court affairs, Hanabi. And do not think this is an act of mercy. Sending you back to Naoya is a punishment in itself—you know that by now."
Hanabi trembled where she stood, her breaths were shallow, and her hands shook slightly as she struggled to maintain composure in your presence.
Realizing it was futile to continue the conversation, you decided to conclude it.
"Know that I will never forgive you for what you have done to me." Your sharp eyes squared on her, the cold ire in your tone making her shudder.
In all the years Hanabi had known you, you had never appeared more fearsome than you did now, adorned in silks of deep blue hues, with that crown of diamonds gleaming in your head.
Then, as if sealing her fate, you delivered these parting words:
"You've always coveted what I have, and sooner or later, that will be your downfall."
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The palace felt suffocating for you. After sending Hanabi away, you took a walk in the gardens, followed closely by your ladies-in-waiting.
Good heavens, what have you done? You definitely didn't regret saving Megumi, but no matter how, you had committed a great crime against your own empire. A sentence would loom over your head!
And what about your baby? Would Satoru execute you while you still had his child inside you?
The very thought made your vision tilt, and you had to lean on the wall for support. Your ladies-in-waiting were immediately clamoring against each other.
"Leave," you commanded, trying to catch your breath while doing so. "I'll… take some time to rest here."
It took you a moment to realize you had reached the pagoda that Satoru had commissioned for you. This was your first time visiting it. The structure was magnificent, towering in height and adorned with exquisite decorations, leaving you in awe.
"It's a gift to the heavens for blessing me with you and our baby."
You wanted to cry. His voice, soft and smooth, conveyed those words so easily to you. He really loved you, didn't he? What made you so unsure about that undeniable fact?
And now you had broken his heart.
Your hand reached for your belly. Though hidden by your dress, you could distinctly feel that it had become firmer these days, holding the product of your love with Satoru.
"I'm sorry, baby..." you whispered, heartbroken. "I didn't mean to drag you into this too..."
You felt nauseous, your breaths come in short pants, and you felt a headache coming. It didn't really register to you that you had crashed into the candle table, before you collected yourself and ventured deeper inside.
You just wanted a sense of peace and quiet. You would think more later, and right now, the darkness inside felt like a comforting lull for you to rest.
. . .
Or at least that was what you had intended, until you looked back and saw the swirling inferno creeping through the halls.
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It didn't take long for Satoru to figure out you had really orchestrated Megumi's release.
More than his wounded pride, it was the searing pain of realizing that you truly believed he was only using you for his own benefit. It felt like an insult to everything he had done for you.
Why couldn't you see that? Just how hard is it for you to understand?
And now that it had come to this... what did you expect from him? Should he really make good on his word and punish you? It tore his heart to even consider it.
However, what was worse was… did you think he was really capable of that too?
Amidst his heartache, suddenly he heard loud commotion from outside his study, yells and cries of help— and it roused him from his thoughts that he came out of his study, only to come right into a familiar face.
"Anyone! Anyone at all!" one of your maids was running, sobbing and hysterical. "Her Majesty! Please help Her Majesty!"
"What is all of this ruckus?" Satoru demanded, catching the maid by the hand, as she stuttered in tears.
And then, everything came crashing down with the next words.
"The Empress— is trapped inside the burning tower!"
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