#the elements series header

[dinkleyreads]

faceless girl with a heart full of poems.

📖: twisted love by ana huang, the fine print by lauren asher and the elements series by brittainy c. cherry.

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[florbexter]

The Sign ลางสังหรณ์ || Tharn x Phaya

[kennarrowan]

the air he breathes headers

credits to kennarrowan on twitter

[chuluoyi]

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒 !

- gojo satoru x reader // zen'in naoya x reader

you are an empress perfect in every way... until your husband suddenly casts you aside for his expecting mistress. but you won't be dethroned just like that, because the newly coronated western emperor, gojo satoru, sets his sights on you, and thus your revenge against your ex-husband begins...

genre/warnings: 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact!—might be ooc, kinda slowburn, angst to eventual fluff, divorce, marriage of convenience, heavy pining (from gojo's part), childhood friends trope, mentions of infidelity, misogyny, infertility, explicit smut

note: loosely inspired by and taking some elements of manhwa remarried empress (but i promise you, it's different). my god, for the past month this is all i can think about *sobs* wc. 10.5k ! this is the longest thing i've ever posted here, and if you'd give it a chance, then i'll be really, really thankful!

credit header goes to @/gojokko in twitter!

next. the crown of diamonds | long live the empire

general masterlist | series masterlist

“I accept the divorce.”

Your perfect life was done for. Everything you had worked hard towards— it was now in shambles and tatters.

You, an ethereal, revered empress... someone untarnished in the face of public and private, had just agreed to the emperor’s blatant request of separation.

“My god... how can this be!?”

“Your Majesty! Please reconsider!”

Emperor Zen’in Naoya of the Eastern Empire, your husband—and companion for more than ten years—smirked as he looked down at you, paying zero attention to the uproar in this courthouse.

But then you heard that kind, velvety voice from the back of your head:

“If you become my empress… that will make me the happiest man alive.”

This place has turned into a whopping circus ever since you and Naoya stepped inside anyway. And so, having nothing worthy left to lose, you declared, “And I demand an immediate approval for my remarriage.”

Your boldness once again stirred a wave of clamor among the crowd, and even Naoya was glaring at you in disbelief now. “A remarriage…? How dare you—!”

“Well... is it the time for my grand entrance?”

Deep from behind the curtains, suddenly he emerged, dressed in the most lavish robes befitting his own throne, outshining everyone in the room as if he was the one owning the place.

“Heh.” His low chuckle stunned even the mass as he took big strides towards where you were.

This would seal your fate. From now onwards, you would no longer be the perfect empress. Your messy divorce and remarriage will relegate that image to history.

“My goodness, that’s…” the woman in the front gasped. “Western Empire’s…”

“Gojo… Satoru?” Naoya's eyes lit with genuine fury as the other man took his place by your side. “You couldn't possibly mean…!”

You interrupted him regally. “Yes, he is the man I wish to remarry.”

This event was going to blow up tomorrow, with scandalous titles no less than The Deposed Empress Remarries! And there was no going back, ever.

How did your pristine life turn into such a shameful debacle? None of these turn of events would be imaginable for you several years prior...

SATORU, THE CROWN PRINCE OF WESTERN EMPIRE

To Satoru, you were more than just the east’s breathtaking empress—you had captured his attention long before you ascended to that role.

Seven years ago, you were the renowned noble lady, the paragon of perfection sought after by many lords and monarchs alike.

You were both cunning and fair, pretty in the face, came from an illustrious family known for birthing famous empresses in either western and eastern empires. You were the quintessential template that mothers advised their sons to seek in a wife.

The fairest in the land—that was how people called you. And Gojo Satoru is always and only interested in the best.

“Suguru... look at her.” His eyes would soften at the sight of you as he nudged at his closest ally and confidant, the duke. “She is so... pretty, isn’t she?”

Unfortunately, you had been promised to the Eastern Empire’s crown prince from a long time ago too. There was little that the outsiders, including himself—even if he was the heir apparent to his own throne—could do to sway your heart.

“There's more to women than their faces, Satoru,” Suguru sighed, thinking that what he had was a mere lust. “Moreover, she’s engaged to the Zen’in... and they have a very good relationship. Nothing you can do about that.”

“Hmph.”

To be honest, he couldn’t fathom what you could possibly like about that murderous Zen’in spawn. He was a pompous human being, no less.

How on earth could you stand someone like that? Satoru had always wondered… especially when it was well-known to the land that you and him were on good terms despite your arranged marriage.

—and once, he thought he knew who you are…

. . .

Satoru swallowed the bitterness rising in his throat as he attended the royal wedding of you and Zen’in Naoya. Despite hating the circumstances, he had to admit it was a fairytale wedding—albeit with the wrong groom.

You were the epitome of picture book princess. In his eyes, and in the eyes of the attendees of your wedding.

Oh, and he made headlines too, that day—

“My princess, may I have this dance?”

Two hours hadn’t even passed by after you swore your vows as Naoya’s bride, and there he was, asking for your first dance, in your own wedding ball, right in front of your newly wedded husband.

Everyone bet on you turning him down and making a fool of himself, but instead, to spare his feelings, you put your delicate hand in his, and with a wide, shy smile, you said, “Yes.”

Satoru thought it was his greatest achievement then. To have made Naoya red-faced, to have made him watch as he put his hands on your waist, twirl you around— and come one breath away from your face.

“Princess, you’re…” his breath caught as he pulled you close, staring straight at your face—and suddenly he felt like life was so unfair to him as the slow melody of waltz was all he could hear.

How could you be this close... and yet so far by being somebody else’s wife?

And yet he forced the words out, with sincerity he had never showed anyone else before, even as his heart bled and shattered. “You’re so incredibly beautiful.”

Your eyes widened, sparkling with wonder, before you thanked him with the loveliest of smiles. “Thank you. You’re too kind.”

Satoru was certain... you had ruined him, because no one else would ever be able to turn his world with just a smile like you did, even as you broke his heart too into a million pieces.

. . .

Ever since that day, everyone had branded him as a prince in search of scandal—coveting the princess married to Zen’in clan.

What everyone didn’t know was that it went beyond that. His obsession of you went beyond your beauty and charms and wits. Rather, it goes a long way back.

YOU, THE CROWN PRINCESS OF EASTERN EMPIRE

As inconceivable as it was, once upon a time, you and Naoya were a truly, happy couple.

Handpicked by the late emperor to become his son’s wife, you couldn’t be more proud. With you being the next empress of the Eastern Empire, your clan once again proved itself that it was always worthy of a seat in the monarchy.

But beyond that, you were elated that it was Naoya that you ended up marrying. Your own childhood friend, who often led you around his palace by hand and filled your days with many joy and laughs.

“One day soon, when we are the emperor and the empress—” younger Naoya was always someone who had big dreams about ruling his nation. “We will create a nation in which no one can do anything as they please! We’ll establish order, and anyone who goes against it will be punished! That way, it’ll encourage fairness!”

Not knowing it yourself, you had given your heart wholly to him. You had agreed to all his dreams and visions. You devoted yourself to them all, even more so after your marriage and coronation, as he promised you an ever after.

“From now on, it’s going to be me and you, Empress.”

YOU, THE EMPRESS OF EASTERN EMPIRE

“Your role is to give an heir to the throne, Empress.”

Your title had never sounded so heavy to you before now, especially when Naoya was the one saying it.

You sighed, gathering your wits and scattered feelings before levelling your calm gaze on your husband. “I understand that, Your Majesty. But it is not something that I can do on my own.”

This year would mark the fifth year of your marriage to Naoya. You understood that the fact you still weren’t able to be with his child would raise questions from the court, but still, must you be reminded of this fact over and over?

Your husband—no, the emperor—barked a satire laugh.

“Oh, really? As I understand it, being infertile is not something I can help you with.”

That hurt. It was a searing pain, like being branded with a red-hot iron. And it felt as if he had torn through your chest with his fist alone.

“I’m not infertile.” Your eyes gleamed with pure defiance as you lifted your chin, facing him in his audience chamber.

It dawned on you that lately, one of the few ways you could speak to him was by requesting an audience as opposed to your usual midnight talks in your private chambers.

When did it start to change? Or was Naoya this kind of person right from the very beginning and you were just blinded by love back then?

"Oh? And what would you call being childless for five years then?" Naoya sneered at you from his dais, placing one hand on his jaw. "Bad luck? You must be terribly cursed with misfortune then."

You fisted your dress, summoning all your strength to hold back tears. Don't you dare cry. Not in front of him.

It wasn't as if you didn't want to carry his heir. For many women, holding their baby in their arms is a cherished dream, and when they hold a position of power like yours, it becomes not just a desire but a duty.

You tried everything—calling in the best doctors, consuming horrible potions, even consulting with the oracle. And they all said you were perfectly healthy and fine. You were at your wits end too.

The irony. You were celebrated in public for your competence, while privately, you suffered your husband's cold detachment and cruel remarks.

. . .

"Empress, where should we put the welcome gifts?"

You studied the floor plan of the banquet hall for your annual New Year's ball with a thoughtful hum before pointing at the entrance.

"Place it here. We want our guests to know that we are generous, and it's easily accessible since the parlor is the first area they reach after arriving."

You loved planning festivities. It was therapeutic in a way, and it gave you little time to think of anything else.

"Oh, and I want to have a welcome arch and flowers placed at the entrance too. This is the grandest event of the year, second only to the Emperor's birthday... we must display the grandeur that befits such an occasion."

Your head maidservant, Hanabi, placed a hand on her abdomen and nodded with a warm smile. "That's a very clever suggestion, Your Majesty! I'll ensure they arrange everything just as you wish!"

As she scurried away, you watched her with an assessing gaze. Hanabi had been with you throughout the five years of your marriage, always at your side, assisting with day-to-day matters and serving as your confidant. She was a great aide.

And you were observant by nature... so of course you noticed things.

...and if you were correct, then she was most definitely with a child.

The thing is... she is unmarried. You hesitated to jump to conclusions without evidence, yet the timing struck you as more than coincidental—it nagged at you for weeks now, suggesting a connection you hoped did not exist.

Because if they really did... then...

You didn't dare to think, because it would be more than a nightmare. But you weren't able to let this go either, so you did what was necessary.

You planted a note in Hanabi's chamber, and then you waited in the gardens, the chilly midnight air wrapping around you like a shroud.

You had done everything you could. Five years ago, you let go of everything and had decided to spend your life with your first love—Naoya.

Because you truly and devotedly love him. You give your all for him—for your life together.

"Ooh, Your Majesty~! It's so cold out here, why not in our usual—"

Hanabi's voice faltered as soon as she saw your crimson gown, feeling like the world had collapsed on her. And you rigidly turned towards her, feeling more or less the same.

And yet, what you had received from him is the greatest betrayal.

SATORU, THE EMPEROR OF THE WESTERN EMPIRE

He first realized something was clearly wrong with you during the New Year’s ball that you hosted.

Satoru had just been crowned emperor during this time, and though rulers typically sent envoys to such grand celebrations due to concurrent festivities in their own lands, it had been several months since he last saw you. He wants to see you.

A meritless action, but he wanted to, regardless.

But that day, you were a fantastic actress in this stage called banquet hall and nobody was the wiser… but he would know, because you mattered a lot to him.

"Your Majesty, you don't seem well." He approached you with a glass of champagne, affixing a friendly smile. "Is there anything amiss?"

Taken aback, you didn't expect such close proximity that you took a step back. His smile almost faltered, but he kept it up.

"Emperor Satoru—"

"Ah, none of that, no. Address me just as you usually do, hmm?"

A smile finally tugged at your lips. "How is that fair, when you address me so formally?"

Satoru chuckled. "You, my queen, deserve all the finery and grandeur there is. And I will see to it that you do."

That was his nickname for you ever since you ascended the throne. Both of your countries refer you as “empress”, but he loves addressing you as “queen” instead.

There was a shift in your expression, and he thought you looked melancholic. It bothered him, stirring a desire to erase that somber look from you. Because above anything and everything, you had to be happy and smiling.

"You're still a flirt, I see, Satoru," you remarked, throwing him a soft smile. "It won't do you good if you're seen with me most of the time, you know."

No, I’m doing this just for you. He wanted to tell you that, but he sighed instead. "You've got it wrong. When I'm in the company of the most beautiful woman in the lands, what's there to be ashamed of?"

Perhaps hearing that finally melted you a bit as you freely giggled this time, and Satoru was glad that he made you laugh even a little.

"You would think that, huh..." you fondly mumbled. And then your expression crumbled, and he could've sworn something painful flashed in your eyes—

What happened to you? He so desperately wanted to ask, but then he saw that preying gaze on both of you. Zen’in Naoya. Satoru clicked his tongue as he watched him weave through the crowd, his gaze locked ominously on both of you.

“Seems like we don’t have much time, after all,” he began, urgency sharpening his words. “But rest assured, whenever you want to talk to me, just send a little birdie my way and I shall answer.”

“Huh?” you blinked at him questioningly, totally not getting what he meant.

He winked, then took your hand and placed a kiss on it, eliciting murmurs of surprise from the crowd at his bold gesture. “And chin up, my queen. You have nothing to fear, and if it makes you feel better...”

He leaned in to whisper in your ear, “To me, a diamond is most beautiful. And you… are one that sparkles above all.”

“Naoya, unhand me this instant!”

You were tired of this shit, of Naoya always manhandling you—of him always having a total control over you.

After seeing how close you got to Satoru, Naoya practically saw red. Still, in the prying eyes of public, he remained unperturbed, but his vice-like grip on your arm was sure to leave bruise as he unkindly led you out of the ballroom.

"Naoya!" you raised your voice this time, even louder than before, uncaring even when the wandering eyes of the servants curiously followed the two of you.

You were not made an empress just to follow him. And with that conviction, you forcibly pulled your arm away from his grip right after he shut the door to the drawing room close, not even wincing at the stinging feeling.

His eyes shone with anger. “You insolent—!”

“No—” You stood your ground, and suddenly you got very irate and burst out, “How dare you, Zen’in Naoya!”

He looked at you with equal surprise and mortification, clearly unprepared for your righteous tirade.

"You have made a mockery of our marriage! You have insulted me and your own throne by carrying on with— with the help! My maid!" you screamed at his face, pure anger coursing through your veins. "How could you!?"

Naoya took in your outburst with eerie silence, a sneer slowly forming on his lips. "You get riled up over that? Have you forgotten emperors are free to take mistresses, especially when the empress isn't capable to bear any heirs?"

A burning arrow shot straight to your heart at his response but you willed yourself not to show it. "Regardless, you could've done better and not put our throne to shame by fucking a servant."

"I've told you time and time again. A woman's duty is to bear children, and since you've proven yourself beyond barren, I did you a favor."

"A favor...?"

"As soon as Hanabi births that child, you can raise him as your own," Naoya frankly stated unabashedly, as if proud with his idea. "Saves you the trouble and I get my heir, a win-win solution, no?"

Raise him as my own...? Saves the trouble? You could've sworn that throughout your entire life, you had never been so insulted before now, right in this moment.

"What I do, I always have my throne in mind. And yet you..." his eyes narrowed into unsatisfied slits. "What are you trying to achieve by whoring yourself to that rake, Gojo Satoru? Are you telling people of the ton that you're having an affair?"

His voice made you want to throw up. The realization that everything you thought you had together might have meant nothing to him at all made you feel sick.

And so, hiding your trembling hands and swallowing you unshed tears, you responded to him with a clipped tone—

"You're most despicable, Naoya. And you are a complete fool if you think even for a second that I'd want to raise your bastard!"

He seemed taken aback by your rejection, but you didn't falter. "And oh, since you want to make use of that lowly maid so much, feel free to take her back and track her down yourself, because I've sent that wench away."

With that, you turned your back on him, striding out with your head held high, even as your life crumbled into dust.

Days after your full-blown argument with Naoya, your situation only worsened. By now, even the palace servants knew you had incurred his wrath, while Hanabi had won his favor by carrying his child—possibly the heir to the throne.

The child she was carrying was no threat to your position. After all, you were the empress. A child of your blood would trample over any bastard.

However, you'd be damned if you shared a bed with him again, and Naoya made it clear that his mistress would be elevated to the rank of royal consort. Given the current trajectory—and history's tendency to repeat itself—emperors often divorced or banished their empresses in favor of their mistresses.

Bah. You could only scoff at your laughable predicament. You came from a prestigious clan and were revered, yet now you were no more than a scorned woman.

Dark thoughts consumed your mind for a time—you couldn't deny that you had considered leaving the palace for self-imposed exile or even ending your life. However, reason always prevailed.

You wouldn't give Naoya what he wanted most: your compliance. And around the time when you resolved to do that, a finely decorated envelope arrived at your study, with no signature whatsoever.

Intrigued, you opened it to find an intricate dried rose bookmark and a folded letter nestled inside.

Greetings to you, my queen. Yeah, it's me. Hope you won't be too surprised. But if you do, know that I always mean well.

Satoru. You weren't expecting this. A small smile tugged at your lips. How long had it been since you last smiled so freely?

I've heard you love reading, hence the bookmark. Fun fact: I made it myself, with Shoko's help. She is sooo bad at explaining though so if the flower is wrinkled... please blame her.

This time, you giggled. He was an emperor, for god's sake. Should someone of his station write so informally like this?

Now... I'm no oracle, but even I know that you must be having bad days. And so, let me entertain you with several tales from my kingdom. So, the other day, my good friend Suguru, the duke—you must've heard of him surely (they said he is the most handsome bachelor in the West but they must be missing an eye for saying so because clearly I'm more!)—just fired a pair of his servants because he caught them in a thirst! He is so uptight! Why can't he let two people in love be!?

Before you knew it, you found yourself chuckling at the lines upon lines of anecdotes Satoru had penned in the letter. The way he wrote, it was as if he was right here, saying all of this to you in real-time. For a while, you were completely absorbed in the world of the Western Empire he described, and all your worries and anxieties seemed to fade away.

Okay, that's it for now. This is just a teaser actually, so if you want to subscribe to more tales of my humble little country, you can always be my empress reply to this letter! :D Look out for a white cat near your windowsill during the hour of snake—he is my trained pet, and put your message in his little backpack. Don't worry, he's cute and doesn't bite!

You were so giddy by the end. His message warmed your heart so much that your eyes grew misty. In the aftermath of Naoya's betrayal, you were certain your life would be filled with much sadness to come.

Yet, your friendship with Satoru might just be the thing that would save you.

No matter how much his friends Duke Geto and Countess Shoko urged him to see reason—that you were no longer available and occupied with your duties as the empress of your own empire—Satoru couldn't help but still cast an eye your way.

You were clearly unhappy, and to him, someone as radiant as you should be happy.

And so, that was why he took his quill and started writing that letter to be sent to your place, along with a rose strapped inside.

He knew that, being the kind person you were, you would most likely respond, but still, the moment his cat arrived back with your reply, he was elated beyond measure.

Of course I knew it right away! I omitted your name because who knows who might catch your cat on the way. Anyway, I hope Mr. Cat will arrive back to you safe and sound. Firstly, thank you for your letter. I must say I'm so happy to receive it :) I haven't had best days so reading it made me smile. And secondly, of course I'll subscribe to your stories of Western Empire. I've been wanting to visit it myself but just haven't gotten the chance to... so if you will continue it, I shall be happy to read :D

If anything he wrote brought you joy, then Satoru was content. He had achieved his goal then.

And it was his own little secret that... by corresponding with you, it allowed him to savor the feeling of having you as his own, if only through words.

Mr. Cat's name is Sugu-chan after Suguru but you can call him whatever you wish. And don't worry, he is strong and can fight if necessary! And don't be too formal with me, my queen. We have known each other forever. Anyway do tell me, what is your favorite color now? Let me guess, is it still that specific shade of crimson?

You name your cat after your best friend...? And you're making it hard for me to be less formal when you always address me as queen! Hmm, I suppose so. I love burgundy. I've even had my study designed with that exact color scheme. It just gives me the confidence I need, you know.

So you still love burgundy... I'll keep that in mind ;) Frankly, any shade of crimson suits you—you're always a vision in them. Back then and especially during your coronation. I love blue, so I think we're a match? :D

Back then...? Hmm, surprisingly yes, red and blue would make a good match... Anyway, I believe you promised me unusual tales from your 'humble little country', so please indulge me!

You've forgotten it already? Around the time we first met, back when I was still known as "the cursed prince"? It holds such importance for me but sadly it seems like it was just a passing moment to you :( Oh, yeah, I haven't forgotten about it! So, this time let me tell you about the time when Earl Nanami got wasted . . .

Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months. Amidst the turmoil of your marriage, exchanging letters with Satoru became your sole respite. His stories regarding his own empire amused you, and sometimes it got you to wonder what it was like to live there.

However, running away from your problems would never solve them. Writing to Satoru may have helped you to cope, but still, your real issue with Naoya wouldn't vanish simply just by ignoring him.

. . .

"Your Majesty..."

For a good one minute, you stood still. Your lady-in-waiting had delivered an earth-shattering news—but admittedly, a possibility you thought was in the cards the moment you went against Naoya.

"His majesty has summoned the high priest to his study," the elderly woman added, close to tears. "But it is very likely that he has submitted the petition for—" her voice faltered when she caught sight of the emptiness in your eyes, unable to continue.

A divorce. Naoya had been considering a divorce. And by now, he was set on it.

"I'm so, so sorry..." she choked out, her voice breaking with sorrow to mourn you, but you remained expressionless, lost in your thoughts.

The last time an empress of Eastern Empire was divorced was more or less a century ago, because she had committed a grave treachery against a royal consort by poisoning her. She was sentenced to death by hanging afterwards.

The irony. You were in similar situation, only that you weren't vengeful enough to resort to poisoning Hanabi. Speaking of her, her baby was due in another four months, and now she was living happily in Naoya's quarters.

"Don't be. I'm perfectly fine."

To consolidate his illegitimate child's position, Naoya used the most effective way. Since you wouldn't listen to him, and Hanabi must be a far delightful companion rather than you, he was more than willing to cast you aside in favor of making her his empress instead.

You thought it would hurt more, and yet what you felt the most right in this moment was white-hot anger. This is unacceptable. It was the greatest insult to you both as a woman and as the empress.

Now, all you could think of was how to uphold your dignity and plot your exit from this palace with your head still held high.

If I can't be the empress here...

And after a sleepless night, you came to a daring solution. And your plan—

...I'll be one somewhere else.

It was an invitation, Satoru thought, almost in disbelief. Or it sounded a lot like one, didn't it?

Heart beating a little faster and blushing, he reread the latest letter you had sent him.

It's only the beginning of summer, and the heat is sweltering... I'm considering treating myself to a trip to the winery village on the border between the east and west. I think it'll be nice if I have a companion...

Winery village was right in the middle of the western and eastern empires, and it was a safe zone. Vineyards were vast and thick, but it wasn't exactly a popular vacation spot. So, it intrigued him why you would want to go there.

Just as he was about to reply to you that it was a very good coincidence that he too wanted to pay a visit to the said village, suddenly—

"Gojo! Gojoooo!" Shoko suddenly burst into his study, startling him.

"Shoko! What the heck?!"

Lady Shoko might be a countess, but she, Satoru, and Suguru all attended the same royal academy. Despite their prestigious titles now, Satoru insisted that in private, both Suguru and Shoko address him just as they did before he ascended the throne.

Still, she was ruder than Suguru in many ways. Satoru gave her a stink eye, but his confusion grew as she seemed to be delivering momentous news.

"Gojo, have you heard that Naoya will divorce Y/N?!"

"Wha?" it felt like a ton of bricks suddenly fell down on his head. And then his friend proceeded to tell him everything she knew.

"It wasn't made official yet, but even the townsfolk have been talking about it. They also said that Naoya have taken a mistress, and that she was formerly the empress' maid."

Satoru listened to her in silence, but the moment he heard that the Zen'in spawn planned to divorce you, anger flared within him. And to add insult to injury, he two-timed you with a servant?

The fucking bastard. He never deserved you at all. How crushed must you have been, enduring all this shit?

"Now, I wouldn't normally encourage you this," Shoko took out the cigarette she stashed in the folds of her dress and sighed. "But since you never let go of that weird fixation on her, should the royal divorce happen..." she shrugged as she took a seat in front of him.

"No matter how laughable it is, you might have a chance."

She is so right. These long years of longing for your affections and dreaming of having even a minute more of your time... there was now chance to turn it to reality.

When you arrived at the winery village for your vacation to breathe in some fresh air, honestly, everything was still in shambles.

You couldn't forget the horrified looks from the court when Naoya announced the divorce. Most were shocked and pleaded with him to reconsider. Some from your circle of ladies even sobbed, openly stating that you didn't deserve this fate.

“Empress... His Majesty shouldn't be that harsh...” Hanabi had said to you afterwards, seemingly concerned for you. “Your legacy here… I’ll make sure to carry them on.”

Sometimes you didn’t know whether Hanabi was pretending to be dumb or indeed she was. One thing you knew though...

“I wish you luck on that, Hanabi.” You looked down at her with eyes as cold as ice. “Beware, the Emperor is fickle, be sure to not run out of entertainments.”

You knew you deserved a better fate than being the empress of the Eastern Empire, but seeing those who still cared for you made you solemn. Your loyal maids, those who supported you... and what about organizations you've spent time and energy to?

“My queen, ah, there you are.”

Satoru's voice from behind startled you, interrupting your daydreams. He quickly came beside you and extended his hand, asking for yours.

You offered him your right hand, and he promptly pressed a kiss on it, his bright blue eyes gazing up at you.

It wasn't as if you just noticed how pretty his eyes were, but now that there was no ballroom and scrutinizing eyes around you, you couldn't deny that the way his eyes sparkled as he gazed at you—solely and purely on you—made you breathless.

What... would it be like to have this man... to be your husband instead?

"I missed you. I know we talk daily through letters, but seeing your beauty firsthand is always a sight for sore eyes," he cheekily commented as he let go of your hand. "Now, I get to see you without your pesky husband around, and yeah, you never fail to make my silly heart race."

You chuckled. "You always flatter me..."

He only gave you a toothy smile, and you two strolled the vineyard. For a while, you talked about nothing of importance, like where your ladies-in-waiting were, how things were from his side.

"How do you find being the emperor?"

"It's tiring! It's boring too to look through accounts and oversee those trivial state affairs! And not to mention how many people have been nagging me to take a wife soon!"

"Oh? You haven't been on the lookout already?"

"Nah. No one is good enough, I need someone already familiar with state affairs and such," he said, wrinkling his nose sourly at the thought. But then he cast his eyes on you.

"And frankly, you are my standard," he fixed you a meaningful smile. "No one comes close. If you weren't betrothed to the Zen'in back then, I'd have proposed you in a heartbeat."

Thump. Thump. Thump. Your dead heart suddenly came to life. Gojo Satoru had just confessed his affections for you so candidly, and it got you thinking how much easier your life would be with him. He would love you, take care of you...

And beguile you.

His eyes fondly crinkled at you. "You are everything I desire in a woman to be my wife."

He adores you so easily, so fluidly... and yet, Naoya, who has you fully, is throwing you away.

Satoru observed how your face fell once again, just as it had during the New Year's ball. And now he knew, it was because you were facing your impending divorce.

But he wasn't going to tell you that, instead, he would willingly be your confidant and offer you his very being. He was about to crack a joke to lift your spirits, when you blurted—

"What if I said... I want to be your empress?" you kept your pace, not looking at him at all. "What if I said... I'll leave everything and come to you?"

Huh? What…?

That was loaded. Have you entertained the thought too? Satoru had craved the very idea for so long he didn’t even miss a beat—

“Then I’d marry you.” His voice was straight and true, shooting straight to the most tender part of you that Naoya had torn to shreds. “If you become my empress… that will make me the happiest man alive.”

No hesitation. It almost reduced you to tears. You stopped where you stood, willing yourself not to tremble. There is still one person who sees this much value in you.

“Then I’ll be yours,” you breathed out. “I’ll be your empress, Satoru.”

Satoru could've sworn time had stopped. If one moment ago, you looked like you were about to shatter, now you were a vision of the dignified and perfect queen he had always known you were.

“I’ll be your queen— your everything.” You declared, locking eyes with him, the intensity of your gaze not escaping him.

How many years had he dreamed of this moment? How many long nights had he endured, yearning for you, knowing you were beyond his reach?

Finally, finally... Satoru grinned, swearing to all the divine beings out there that he had never known how liberating it was to finally have what he wanted. “That would be my greatest honor.”

He drew you close—you let him—and after one second of taking in your enchanting eyes, he crashed his lips against yours.

His lips started soft and gentle, then became fiery as his tongue met yours. He pulled you closer, one arm around your waist and the other holding the back of your head. You responded eagerly, pressing against him, fingers tracing his neck and feeling the lines of his undercut.

One is finally having the woman he had wanted for so long, and the other was plotting her escape from her misery.

You were using him. He knew it. Yet, he didn't care. Hidden behind bushes and vines, you shared your very first heated kiss, aware that this moment would leave its mark as both the greatest stain and triumph in your lives.

And when he finally pulled away, lips swollen and wet, with a wolfish grin, he promised you once again—

“Give me everything that is yours... and I swear on my life, I will do everything to turn your life into a living dream.”

“Empress, your husband His Majesty the Emperor, has requested a divorce.”

It was how your once pristine life transformed into the scandal of the century inside the courthouse.

"If you accept this petition, then you will no longer be the Empress of Eastern Empire. You will lose all the rights you have as a senior member of the imperial family..."

You donned your finest attire—the intricate crimson and black dress you had designed and commissioned the dressmaker to create. Today, faced with Naoya's divorce decree, it would be the last time you adorned the colors of his empire.

"The ties that bound you together as husband and wife would be severed—"

Good riddance, you thought.

"If this is not what you want, you have the right to—"

"I accept the divorce."

Your voice cut through the heavy solemness of the witnesses and turned them into a mass of disbelief. You disregarded Naoya's smirk and held the priest's gaze. "And I demand an immediate approval for my remarriage."

The crowd was in for a second wave of uproar when you boldly stood your ground, and they erupted into clamors once again when Satoru made his grand entrance and took his place beside you.

"You—!" Naoya was so furious that he roared. "This is my empire!"

"And?" Satoru challenged with a dauntless smile. "I'm here to propose, and since she accepts your divorce request, I believe she has no relations with you any longer and is free to marry someone else."

You remained motionless, until your cold fingers met warmth when Satoru linked his hand with yours reassuringly.

"This is treachery! I won't fucking permit it!" Naoya hollered as he faced the high priest, who had a grim face while observing this three-way headlock between the three of you.

"Emperor Naoya, that matter falls into the jurisdiction of the church." The high priest let out a sigh and then turned to you, assessing your calm gaze.

Regardless, Naoya paid him no mind. "I refuse to grant you any permission to remarry! You will be banished to the cold palace until the rest of your pitiful days! Not only do you fail miserably by being barren beyond help, you also dare to whore yourself—" he was now rambling curses at you before everyone in the court, and it pierced you deeply—

Until Satoru tugged you behind him, so that you wouldn't have to see his face any longer.

"High priest!" Satoru's voice blared as he clenched his jaw, irate at the string of profanities directed at you. "Do you still truly believe that the deposed empress can't remarry? When she has suffered through this man's downright betrayal?"

Your head was spinning. You wanted this whole ordeal to be over already.

And thankfully, even the high priest saw reason, that you were undeserving of this debacle. In the end, his words held more weight than anyone else's, even Naoya's.

"I accept Empress Y/N petition to marry Emperor Satoru!"

In the chaos of the courthouse after the high priest granted your wish, Naoya shook his head in disbelief, looking at both of you with intense disdain.

"You've always wanted that wench, haven't you, Gojo?" Naoya cackled with a malice you would never have expected from someone who had been your husband for ten years.

You had tuned out all the noise. This dumpster fire was too much even for you. But then, you felt a strong arm enveloping you, sealing your fate as the match made in this courtroom—

"I have, yeah," Satoru replied with a smug grin. "And now that she is mine... it's just the beginning of your downfall, Zen'in."

Your wedding banquet in Western Empire lasted a week long.

True to his promise, Satoru spared no effort to make you happy. The moment he brought you to his palace, he ordered immediate plans for wedding celebrations. Make it grand, make it unforgettable... he took charge himself.

And on the final, seventh day, as you were about to be formally crowned as the empress of the western lands, you were stunned.

"This is your coronation dress, Empress," your new lady-in-waiting, Shoko, said with pride. "Gojo— I mean, His Majesty, specifically has his late mother's dress altered to suit you."

You promised yourself that you would no longer wear any shades of crimson. As much as you loved the color, it reminded you too much of your homeland and Naoya. No matter how much you despised him now, once upon a time, he was everything you loved and more.

And you thought you couldn't possibly love another color until you saw the extravagant navy dress in your chamber. Made of luxurious satin and adorned with literal diamonds, it shimmered under the light and flowed gracefully with layers of brocade cascading to the floor.

To give you something so valuable... You had expected to enter into a marriage out of necessity, but your new husband had no intention of ceasing his ways to win your heart.

If it's with him, maybe... just maybe...

Today is the day.

Satoru sat on his throne before his court in the grand hall of his audience chamber. His hair was pulled back, and he was dressed in his official attire, robe of silk and a crown made of pure gold.

Next to him, another resplendent crown adorned with jewels and diamonds shimmered in the light—the empress' crown. Your crown.

Today was the day this empire would truly acknowledge his queen. He stole a glance at you on his other side, and his breath was taken away.

With your hair tucked into an elegant updo, you were the very vision of a fairytale queen. You were incredibly stunning, almost otherworldly— shade of blue suited you as much as crimson did, just as he thought.

This day would go down in history. But before that, he would ensure that the news would reach Zen'in Naoya. He would spite him so hard.

"Today marks a momentous occasion. We gather here to celebrate not only my marriage and my new wife's coronation," Satoru glanced at his audience with a smirk, his expression widening as he spotted his best friends Suguru and Shoko. "But also the start of her reign... and as we know it already, her fame and beauty are second to none."

The crowd burst into giggles, clearly aware of his scandal at the Eastern Empire's courthouse. And even you smiled.

Satoru shrugged, playfully rolling his eyes. "Spare me, I'm a newlywed, after all. Anyway..." His gaze shifted to the intricate crown, a relic of his late mother's, and then back to you. "Come."

You knelt before your new husband, bowing your head. The whirlwind journey from the East, your remarriage to Satoru... It had all felt surreal until this moment. Now, the weight of reality settled upon you, almost shaking your very core—

But just as the thought crossed your mind, Satoru placed the crown upon your head. As the jewels settled into place and you rose to face the crowd, his voice cut through the air:

"And here I present to you, your new empress!"

The room erupted in applause, the cheers echoing around you. Everyone congratulated you without fail, and your breath was taken away.

It was a sight beyond belief, as they chanted your name, over and over again—

“ALL HAIL THE EMPRESS!”

"I have something for you!"

You wouldn't expect that you would ditch your last night of wedding celebrations along with your husband, and yet here you were, led by the hand by a very giddy Satoru.

"Where are we going?" you questioned him, your pretty dress sweeping the halls in a rush.

He turned to you to send you a wink. "Trust me, sweetheart. You'll love it."

Somehow the way he called you made your heart thump a little faster inside your ribcage. This man is really, truly, your husband now.

He was such a refreshing person, it almost made you let go of everything that molded you into the perfect empress in the east, and be just... you.

"Here." Both of you stopped in front of a grand door, and he ushered you inside. "Come, come~"

A study, you realized as you stepped inside, but then a gasp left your lips—

"How do you find it, hmm?" Satoru put an arm around your waist, proud of how the burgundy walls and mats enveloped the entire space, creating a tranquil sight that perfectly matched your taste.

It was so much like your private study in the Eastern Empire's palace. You might now hate that place, but your private study was filled with the memories of smiles while writing back to Satoru's letters and waiting for his cat to come. And to have this now in your new home...

"You remembered..." you looked up to him, almost tearing up.

"Of course I do," he pressed a kiss on your temple. "I said that so long as you're with me, I'll turn your dream into reality, didn't I?"

This man really treasures you, or at least that was what his actions had proven so far.

"You're everything I've ever wanted and more," Satoru said, wrapping his arms around you from behind in a warm embrace. "You might not realize it, but I've been in love with you since you first visited western lands."

"What?" you turned to him with genuine confusion. "How?"

"That blind boy who you led by the hand... he had no friends," Satoru sighed against you. "The first and only person who asked him if he was lost... is you."

Suddenly, you were thrown back in time to your first encounter with Satoru many years ago. He was known as "cursed" for being born with peculiar eyes, had been blind for a period of his childhood, before he awakened the true extent of those brilliant blue eyes and brought his clan to power by wielding them.

Back then, you thought it was wrong for him to be left alone, so you took him by the hand and escorted him back to the palace, unaware that he was the infamously cursed crown prince.

"You made me feel less lonely. And I thought then... someday, somehow... through some sort of miracle in which I regained my eyesight and could see you... I'd immediately ask for your hand."

But you were named the crown princess of the Eastern Empire. The thought of how crushed Satoru must have felt upon hearing the news pricked at your heart.

You felt soft, you felt loved, and most of all, you felt an overwhelming certainty that with this man by your side, you would finally experience the genuine love that had been missing from your life for so long.

"You have me now," you whispered in response.

Unlike your first kiss in the winery village, this time, you were the one who faced him and pulled him into a searing kiss.

Be it impulse, overwhelming feelings or something else... you didn't care. You just want him.

And wouldn't you know, your new husband... is also a wonderful, dashing lover.

"You're so... fucking beautiful..." Satoru's lips were on yours, claiming them with a fierce passion that left you breathless. His hands roamed your body, tracing each curves and lines.

You moaned into his mouth, clutching his robes. He captured your wrists with one hand, using the other to tilt your head back so he could leave bruises on your neck in the process, making you moan.

"Keep making that sound, yeah?" Satoru rasped, his hot breath giving you goosebumps. "Keep me going with your voice."

As he gripped your waist, it dawned to him once again that you were here, with him.

Seeing his colors on you ignited desire straight to his cock. His empress was stunning, more so now than ever, more than any woman Satoru had ever seen.

He led you to the bed, his movements urgent yet tender. The air was thick with desire as you lay back, pulling him down with you. You arched your back, pressing yourself closer to him, craving more.

This wasn't your first time, yet you had never been this excited before. From heated kisses until somehow managing to get rid of your underwear and left you in your dress... your body nearly thrashed in response.

"Look at you... An queen of two empires, yet rendered putty in my hands," Satoru wickedly grinned as he slipped a hand under your dress, rubbing his thumb teasingly over your clit. You let out a soft sigh at the prodding. You were getting wetter by each second... and Satoru felt his cock straining against the tight material of his dress pants.

"More..." you pleaded, arching your hips. "More...!"

Any of your wishes would be his command, so he pushed two fingers inside you at once, and you let out an erotic gasp. Satoru was so close to tearing his pants off by seeing how tight you clenched around his digits.

Breathy moans fell from your lips with each harsh brush of his thumb over your clit, his fingers fucking you fast—

"Satoru...!" you shuddered, gripping his shoulders as you became limp and came into his hands in spurts.

"My queen..." he then captured your lips in a brash kiss, and you reciprocated it. He pulled away only to press his forehead against yours in an attempt to calm his raging heart. "No matter what."

His watery, sparkling eyes was mesmerizing to you, and you took one breath before you crashed your lips into his, tangling your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer.

"As pretty as you look in this, I'm going to take it off," Satoru murmured with a meaningful smirk, slowly undoing the laces of your dress. "I want to see you completely naked... just for me."

Soon, you laid bare, and the cold air made your body shiver. Satoru clenched his jaw tightly at the scrumptious sight.

It was almost difficult for him to take in all of you at once—your flushed cheeks, swollen lips, erect nipples, and legs spread wantonly for him. Satoru had been here so many times in his dreams, and to see it becoming reality...

"If back then, you had chosen me instead—" he sounded almost heartbroken, which startled you. "I would have treated you right from the start—"

You looked up to him. "You would..."

"Don't you know how many years... I've been just there— watching you and that bastard? Knowing I can do even more than him?"

"Mhm..."

You rose, tugging him closer, before you unclasped his robe, letting it fall to the floor. "Satoru... right now... I'm yours."

He allowed you to undress him and soon he too was out of his stuffy royal attire. Your eyes wandered on each part of his body you touched. His chiseled body, snow-like skin, and then the hardened bulge that sprung out the moment you undid his pants—

The sight of his cock alone only turned you on even more. You gently gripped the glistening head, running a thumb over the tip before gliding your hand towards the base of his length. With a gentle rhythm, your hand moved from base to tip in a slow, teasing motion... before pecking his head.

"Yeah... you're right." His eyes never left yours, admiring you as if you were the most precious gemstone, before catching you off guard. While you rubbed him, he snaked a hand around your waist, pulling you so that you tumbled on top of him.

You moaned loudly as his cock—big, both in length and width—entered you, his hands gripping your thighs to spread them apart so he can shove himself deeper.

You felt so, so full, as you pulled Satoru to you tightly, groaning into his shoulder. And he started to set the pace, moving against you.

"Ahh," you moaned out shakily, fingers clawing into his back. To him, the sounds you made drew him in like a siren's song, it made him throb inside you. "Ahh—hngh!"

"Feel good?" he asked, voice sultry and deep, as he thrusted into you particularly harder, causing you to stifle a moan. "Let it out—hah—sweetheart... I want to hear you, hmm?"

And you did. You felt hot. Your unabashed, nasty sounds with each thrust drove him to the edge. With every lift of your hips, you squeezed him so tightly it almost made his head spin. His breaths came in short pants too.

"You fit me so damn well," he groaned, holding your hips hard enough to leave imprints of his fingers. "So fine..."

One woman. It took just one woman—you—to unravel him like this.

"Satoru, harder—" You commanded, wrapping your arms around his neck even as you trembled. "N-not enough... harder!"

He actually had to swallow, because you and your pussy felt so damn tantalizing. "As you wish, Your Majesty."

He slammed his hips against yours twice—no, thrice the previous speed, and you incoherently squealed. The squelching sound of your hips slamming against each other, and the immense wetness coming out where you two were joined... it was clear: you were addicted.

"Did Naoya ever make you feel as good as I do you now?" he drawled, sinking into you impossibly deeper, squeezing your left mound and flicking your right nipple at the same time. "Did he... ever make you ride him like this?" And then he instantly regretted his words.

Because the moment he said that, you felt cold, reminded of nights in which Zen'in Naoya grabbed you just to forcefully breed you. You winced, and Satoru caught it.

"I..." you shifted your gaze away from him, and he could've sworn that it was sorrow he saw flashing in your pretty eyes. "I-I... don't want to talk about him..."

Feeling remorseful, Satoru reached for the back of your neck and pulled you to him, kissing your lips softly. "I'm sorry—"

"You don't have to—"

"Tonight, I'll make you scream my name so hard you'll forget him," he promised as he pulled away from you, his eyes darkening. "Tonight, give me everything and I'll show you how a man truly loves his woman."

And he followed through. He worshipped you meticulously, treating your body with the reverence one might bestow upon delicate glass. He peppered kisses on every inch of your skin he could reach, lips and tongue trailing down, his relentless thrusts so well-paced and brutal at the same time.

"I'm— close!" You whimpered, and yet still grinding your hips against him. He was watching your every move, every wave of pleasure that was evident on your face— committing it to memory for those moments when he couldn't hold you close.

You gasped—as a mind-blowing orgasm then ripped out of your very being, your hips faltering as you surrendered to ecstasy with a cry of his name, coming all over him. "Satoru... Satoru! Ahhh!"

And Satoru kept his gaze on your face as he too busted inside of you hard, feeling himself filling your womb with his essence, his hands kept your waist steady, memorizing the way your lips part and the way your body went limp into him with satisfaction.

Dear heavens, I love you. The sight of you was nothing but perfection, and with everything he had, he was very sincere when he said—

"You're flawless, sweetheart."

2 MONTHS LATER

"If you give me a son, I'll throne you as the empress right on that very day."

The Eastern Empire's palace was bustling as the royal consort's screams echoed through the halls. The day Naoya had been eagerly awaiting had arrived—his mistress was delivering his heir.

Yet unbeknownst to him, whispers in the dark suggested the royal baby was arriving suspiciously early. Many, still mourning the previous empress who had been dethroned so abruptly, were not exactly thrilled with this turn of events.

"My lady, just a little bit more!" the maid encouraged. Hanabi strained once again as the pain peaked and her body spasmed, letting out the loudest wail as the baby finally slid out of her.

"W-what... is it?" on the brink of passing out, Hanabi asked anyone who might hear her. She had to know, for she was so close to obtaining her throne—

"It's a girl, my lady!" the midwife announced.

What?

Her world crumbled at that very moment. A girl? A girl can't be the heir!

She wanted to sob, to utterly mourn, and right at this moment she was full of fear, because if Naoya knew—!

Like a curse, he suddenly made his presence known in the birthing chamber. His face scrunched in distaste at the scent of blood filling the air. He took one look at Hanabi, tearful and frazzled after the ordeal, then turned to the midwife, who was trembling at his presence.

"A baby girl, Your Majesty."

In that instant, fury flashed through him. He shot everyone in the room a glare before his eyes settled on his consort, full of spite.

"You useless tramp."

Your life with Satoru in Western Empire was wonderful.

He was everything Naoya was not. Satoru adored you, prioritized your well-being and happiness, often humored you, and made your days an endless delight.

And dare you say... you had begun to return his affections as well.

How could you not? Everything he did, he did with you in mind. He eased you into your position so seamlessly, and soon you found your place comfortably at court.

"He is mixing pleasure with his kingly duties," Suguru grumbled, watching his best friend order the gardeners to plant more blue roses simply because you mentioned finding them beautiful earlier. "Empress, you have to keep a tight grip on his leash."

"Well, at least he's happy." Shoko shrugged and nudged you. "Can't you see by now? How much of a loser he is for you?"

You did see him—a man who showed you everything he had. He had given you everything you unknowingly needed.

And you just wished... you could return the same for him. It still made you bitter, knowing you might never be able to give him heirs due to your condition.

. . .

"Sweetheart... what's on your mind, hmm?"

You looked up to him as he pressed a kiss on your cheek, an arm securely around you, sweaty and panting after your steamy session.

With his hair down and messy after you yanked him earlier, your lips curved into a genuine smile. "You look hot like this, you know?"

He clicked his tongue. "Hmm, I am, of course. But no use in changing topics, I know you well enough now."

Your bare body was pressed against his chest, fingertips tracing gentle lines on his skin.

"There's a possibility that... I can't give you any children." You almost felt ashamed saying this to him, unable to look at him in the eye. "I-I... I've failed for many years—"

"Hush," he silenced you with a finger to your lips, his expression firm. "No thinking that, yeah? I don't care."

"But—"

"Children are gifts," he said then, caressing your face tenderly. "It's not up to us to control how it'll take or not. And I married you not because I want heirs or such—I love you, you know?"

Your glassy eyes met his, and you willed yourself not to shed a tear.

He grinned cheekily. "Besides, you've felt it yourself—my sexual potency is undeniable. And I don't believe for a second, that you're what that bastard claimed you to be. I bet he's the one who is impotent—"

"Satoru! You're so obscene—!" you giggled freely and poked his chest.

At that time, you were just relieved that he didn't mind. Though it was still weighing in your mind on some days, you felt a newfound sense of liberation compared to when you were still in the Eastern Empire.

But you were in for another plot twist. Perhaps Satoru is correct, and your doubts are unfounded...

"Ugh..."

Your stomach churned in discomfort, a sickening nausea that seemed to twist your insides and threaten to force its way up. This had happened for days now.

You wanted to find a physician before Satoru was aware of your state. You didn't dare to hope or speculate, because you were tired of it by this point. You just wanted clarity.

Yet, the physician's words left you speechless.

"Your Majesty... it seems that you are with child," he remarked in wonder as he assessed your vein. "Yes, definitely. You are with child."

It was a revelation you hadn't expected. For years, you had been convinced that you were unable to conceive, but now...

You were carrying a new life. Yours and Satoru's.

You felt like bursting with joy as you made your way to his study. Your heart swelled with an overwhelming sense of happiness. Above anything else, you were eager to share this news with him—

...until everything you had known turned on its axis once again.

Right before you went past the ajar door, you saw a glimpse of your husband and his most trusted confidant, overhearing snippets of their conversation:

"Satoru, however you look at it, this is tantamount to declaring war," Suguru sighed, clearly at odds with his perspective. "It's not wise."

"We can finally put an end to them this way," Satoru's tone was steely as he moved a chess piece across the map, positioning it on the border between east and west. "No better time than now."

"The Empress will face the greatest backlash from this. They'll accuse her of being vengeful enough to provoke an attack on her home country—"

"On the contrary, her presence will encourage those still loyal to her to defect. That's why I have her here. We need defectors—"

You let out a choked gasp, backing away from the door in shock. For one good minute, you refused to comprehend what Satoru was implying.

. . .

. . .

Did your new husband... marry you for his own hidden agenda?

[haxkattpress]

Our Objective Remains Unchanged by @citrusses

"Harry Potter, returning member of the Oxford University Boat Club, has two goals for the spring of 2005: beat Cambridge, and beat Draco Malfoy. Perhaps not in that order."

This has to be one of the most creative and meticulously researched fics I have ever had the pleasure of reading. If you haven't read it yet, don't walk— run! Citrusses is an absolute genius, and kindly gave me permission to bind her masterpiece.

The cover of this bind is made out four different shades of Allure bookcloth cut by my Cameo 4, and the centerpiece is printed and hand foiled. The banners were machine foiled in gold and black with hand foiled rose gold shading. The endbands were hand sewn with Gutermann silk thread.

You can find more pictures and information about my process under the cut.

The amount of inspiration this fic gave me was overwhelming, and Citrusses' writing fully immersed me in the world of competitive rowing. While designing this bind, I was struck by the sheer wealth of Oxford rowing memorabilia available to me. I settled on this 1929 illustration from an official publication on the Oxford and Cambridge Centenary Boat Race for the cover.

"How hard could it possibly be?" I thought, foolishly. The answer was HARD, but I'll get into that later.

Due to the wealth of design options, I believe that this may be the best typeset I have created to date. Thanks to the help of my friend @tsurashi-bindery, I was able to learn the basics of InDesign (kicking and screaming all the way). There will be spoilers in the text of these photos, so try not to read them if you haven't finished the fic!

For the title page, I modified To See the Crews in Training by Charles Pears (1930). I believe that this was part of a series of advertisements for the race in the London Underground.

For the chapter headers, I redrew the crest from an Oxford Oars, Flags, and Arms postcard, presumably pre 1914. I also had some fun creating a mock email using La_Temperanza's How to Mimic Email Windows on Ao3. Cormac's email makes me laugh every time I read it, and Citrusses provided an appropriately pompous subject.

I also had lots of fun editing the oars from the official OUBC logo to serve as dividers and decorations for the page numbers.

Additionally, I got to edit a full newspaper page for the fic! I was very excited find an opportunity to slip Leyendecker's The Finish (1908) in.

The fic ended beautifully, so I wanted to include one last element at the end to capture the atmosphere. I settled on L'aviron (1932) by Milivoj Uzelac. It makes me feel as though Harry and Draco will continue rowing together long after I've closed the book.

I of course had lots of fun sewing the headbands, and got to do it with not one but TWO copies!

Things got tricky when I had to recreate the cover. I had a poor understanding of how vector images worked, and ended up having to redraw it three times. Once I finally cracked and taught myself how to use Illustrator, the program crashed...and I had to redraw it a fourth time!

I set the vector to cut on my Cameo 4, and I assembled the pieces together like a puzzle on my Silhouette mat. I used Allure's indigo, skylight, white, and black bookcloth in the process. I will be making a tutorial video on this method, so I will keep it brief here.

I also cut a piece of bookcloth to 8.5"x 11" and fed it through my inktank printer to print the center design. I then cut it out using the print and cut feature on my Cameo 4. Both of these methods were a first for me, and they were very scary!!

To be perfectly frank, the foiling was a nightmare and I don't want to get into it. I machine foiled the gold, and then foiled black lettering on top of it. I foiled the rose gold shading by hand, and then foiled a thin black outline along the edge of the banners to make them stand out more.

I hand foiled the spines (because I'm scared of measuring), painted the exposed board (to hide any gaps in the inlays), and used transfer tape to lift my design from the Silhouette mat and onto the cover.

One more fun detail— my copy and the author's copy are sisters! The dark blue and the light blue are inverted on the author's copy, making it distinguishable from mine. This is the first time I have made an author's copy for a fic, and I was admittedly incredibly nervous. I always worry about what authors will think of my work, but Citrusses gave me an incredible amount of encouragement and support throughout the process! Thank you for trusting me with your precious fic!

This story is a work of fanfiction and can be read on Ao3 for free. My bind and typeset are for personal use only and not for sale or profit. Keep fandom free!

[fanaticsnail]

Upon receiving an invitation from the lord of Kuraigana to train his wards, you never expected your career as a governess to lead you here. As your tour of the keep was conducted, a ring was slipped onto your finger: invoking an ancient curse you truly did not understand. Setting three conditions for marriage, your newly betrothed immediately made haste to complete them with you blissfully ignorant that his life hung in the balance should be fail his task.

Themes: Mihawk x f!reader, arranged marriage, supernatural curses, lord x subordinate, class differences, longing, pining, hesitancy to wed, marriage, contractually obligated, where is my wife trope, dancing, period-drama style piece.

Chapters

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Fic Art Links

Header Image by @i-am-vita

Muddy Warlord by @feral-artistry

I'm doing my best, my lady by @fanaticsnail

Dancing with your Beloved by @i-am-vita

Series Spotify Playlist

Notes: this was an original tale based on the fairytale "Sapsorrow" or "Donkeyskin" with several supernatural elements thrown into it at my own discretion.

I wrote this for my irl sister, @since-im-already-here, (her anon request here) who adores the World's Greatest Swordsman and fractured fairytales. She was the reason I began writing fics, so this was my gift to her for encouraging me from the very start. Love you, Smol-Snail 🫰.

[zepskies]

hi! so I had a question, how long did it take you to build a following on tumblr? how long have you been writing for spn as a whole (I assume you started with it but I’m not sure I meant when did you start writing on the app mostly) and do you think it usually takes as long as it did for you for other people? (I hope the wuestion made sense)

Hi there, lovely anon!

Oh, these are great questions, and I'm happy to answer. I'm going to be referencing this post, as someone asked me a similar question.

I also talk a lot about my beginning fanfic/coming to Tumblr experience and building a following in this interview I did with the @idlingintheimpalapodcast.

That being said, here's how I got started in SPN fandom and on Tumblr, and 6 Tumblr Tips related to how I've tried to grow my blog:

Learn How Tumblr Functions

Create a Tag List

Posting Schedules, Announcements, and Sneak Previews

People are Visual (Use Images & Design Elements) + shoutouts to blogs I looked to for inspo

Support Your Fellow Writers! Reblog/Comment on What You Read & Enjoy

When I Do Get Engagement, I Reply to Comments and Reblogs

Deeper dive below the cut:

Writing for SPN & Starting on Tumblr

To be honest, I'm a bit late to the party when it comes to Tumblr. I've written for many different fandoms over the 15 years or so I've been writing fanfic, but I've been writing for Supernatural in particular since around 2015. I wrote on platforms like Fanfiction.net, and later I moved over to Ao3.

I dabbled with Tumblr starting in 2021 while I was working on a Billy Butcher x OC story for the Boys (And So It Goes). But after watching the last season of SPN, I got the SPN bug again, so I started dipping back into the fandom.

But I wasn't really that active on Tumblr until January 2023, when I wrote my first soulmate AU series for Dean Winchester, called Never Say Goodbye (Dean x soulmate!Reader).

That started a very fun journey for me in the Tumblr world, engaging with people and making friends here with awesome people! 💕

Now, here are a few tips on what I've learned in building my following. You don't have to do exactly what I did. This is just my advice based on my personal experience here:

Tip #1: Learn How Tumblr Functions

Everything has been a process of trial and error. I have a professional background in content and social media marketing, so that knowledge has helped me a lot with some elements I'll get into later.

But it took me time to learn the Tumblr landscape. I had to figure out:

Why it's important to reblog -- not just your own work in replying to people's comments, but what you read and enjoy. It's what makes Tumblr go 'round.

The different mobile vs. desktop views and functions.

How to format my posts and use hashtags that would best optimize my fics and posts, based on the most followed tags in the fandom I was writing for.

How to create design elements, like banners, dividers, and headers that matched my aesthetic and the fandom.

Make sure my blog is easy to read, visually, and easy to navigate, technically (links to my masterlists, series masterlists, tag list, my fic library side blog, Patreon, etc.).

I'm still adjusting all these things now and then as I figure out new ways to keep readers engaged, and make my blog as easy to navigate as possible.

Tip #2: Create a Tag List

A tag list is a list of blog users that request to be tagged in your upcoming fics. (See this post on tips for formatting tag lists and optimizing hashtags on posts.)

Some authors don't do tag lists anymore because they find it a hassle (and it can be), but even if you're just starting out, advertise your tag list -- I suggest at the end of a fic and in your bio, your masterlist, and/or navigation page. It will get more eyes on your posts, and hopefully more engagement.

I used Google Forms to build up my tag lists because it's easy to use and it creates a Google spreadsheet for you based on the responses you get (an idea I got from another writer who was doing the same thing). You can also create more sheets within the file to organize the responses by character, for example.

On my tag list, I gave readers options to choose which character they wanted to be tagged on based on the fandoms I write for. I also created tag lists for new series to go with the series masterlist. Like I said above, I created spreadsheets for each of these lists within my tag list form master sheet.

Now, you don't have to do it exactly this way. There are many ways to keep track of a tag list.

Some people may think my approach is too much work, but this was very successful for me in building up my tag lists and increasing my following. Staying organized is key! 🤓✌🏽

I have since created a side blog @zepskieswrites for people to follow with notifications on, since my character tag lists are full.

Tip #3: Posting Schedules, Announcements & Sneak Previews

When my blog started to gain traction from my first SPN series, I knew I wanted to post consistently to keep people's interests. For me, this meant once a week (sometimes more if the mood strikes me), to keep that momentum going. YouTube vloggers do the same thing for this reason. They have a set posting schedule and give announcements.

You don't have to post once a week. You don't even have to have a set schedule. That's just what I did last year to increase engagement, but also because I love to write, I was getting inspired, and I made the time for it!

Remember that writing and sharing your work and being a part of the fandom on Tumblr is supposed to be fun! At the same time, what you get out of something depends on how much time you have to put into it.

Basically what I’m saying is, I’ve put a lot of time and energy into my writing and my blog, but only because it’s been very fun to do it! 😉

Now, going back to being consistent. It can help you! When people know they have content waiting for them by a certain timeframe, and they see that you stick to that deadline, they're more likely to tune in and engage with your work.

Of course, real life comes first, always, and things can derail you, but on the whole I make sure that I keep my word when I say I'm going to post something. Tumblr has a scheduling feature that allows you to schedule posts ahead of time, which I use on a daily basis. That can help you as well.

To try and generate buzz around new stories, I give writing updates or announcements, often with sneak previews, and the dates when I plan to drop the upcoming story. When I'm writing a series, on each chapter I give a preview of the next one, so I can try to keep people invested and waiting for the next chapter.

Tip #4: People are Visual (Use Images & Design Elements)

A huge element of successful content and social media is visuals. The first thing people are often drawn to when they look at a web page, an ad, or any kind of digital content is the picture -- and any other visual elements. Then they look at the title/headline, followed by the rest of the story.

This is why I always lead with the title of the story/headline and a GIF or image at the top of the post for a story. Draw readers in with their eyes to the visual, and then the content. I now create my own design elements, including story headers.

When I got started here on Tumblr, I also took a closer look at how other popular blogs I admired were organizing their masterlists, formatting their stories with banners, dividers, tags/warnings, word count, creating tag lists, and more -- both to create their blog aesthetic and to make it easier for readers to enjoy their work on different levels -- the content itself, and the visual elements.

Shoutouts to some of those writers I looked to, who have a lovely blog aesthetic and organization: @luci-in-trenchcoats @deanwinchesterswitch @deanbrainrotwritings @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior

Form and function is a balance, and they should work together. For example, there are some design/post formatting elements that are getting popular now on Tumblr that I personally don't vibe with, because I think it takes away from the reader's experience.

Like making the entire post or story in small case. Readers that have trouble seeing small fonts won't want to read this.

or making everything in the story lower case. this just bothers me for grammatical reasons. guarantee i will be turned off from reading. 😂

Also, most people browse Tumblr on their phone rather than on desktop. (About 62% according to current Semrush statistics.) So certain things that are small in your desktop version will be even smaller on mobile.

If you have a custom blog design, some design elements may not transfer well visually on mobile vs. desktop, and vice versa. So you'll want to check both versions to see how it looks, and possibly make adjustments.

Now, this isn't to say you have to become a graphic designer if that's not your thing. There are plenty of people who share their lovely designs for free, as long as you make sure to credit them if you use one of their banners, dividers, etc. Check out @cafekitsune and @firefly-graphics, for example.

Some of them even take requests. Just make sure to check their bio to see if they state whether they're currently taking requests or not. (This also goes for writers on fic requests.)

Tip #5: Support Your Fellow Writers! Reblog/Comment on What You Read & Enjoy

This is part of the fun when you start truly engaging with the fandoms you love.

Likes are cool. Comments are wonderful. Reblogs with comments are awesome, because not only do they get that engagement/feedback that they can reply to, but the reblog helps your fellow writers get seen. And while they aren't obligated to, they might be more inclined to do the same for you.

You'll also start to develop relationships within your fandom community. This is how I've made many friends and gained new readers on Tumblr -- by reblogging, sharing, commenting on what I liked about the fics I read. 💜

I try my best to support my fellow writers, no matter how new or how popular they are. Just because a writer has a bigger following, doesn't mean they appreciate feedback any less.

Feedback gives us writers energy and fuels us to write more. It can lead to more inspiration, and to continue the series you might be so invested in.

So if I took the time to read something, if I enjoyed it, I'm usually reblogging it and sharing my thoughts, even if it's just a gif or a couple of lines, or a long raving review. 💖

Tip #6: When I Do Get Engagement, I Reply to Comments and Reblogs

Along with supporting my fellow writers, engaging with the lovely people who read my work is just good fun! It's the best part of sharing my work on here and on Ao3. And it lets them know that you value and appreciate them for taking the time to comment and/or comment in a reblog. 💓💓💓

I hope these tips are helpful! Now, to answer your last question...

Do you think it usually takes as long as it did for you

[to build a following] for other people?

Interesting, but the truth is, I'm not sure. My knowledge of content and social media marketing has probably given me a leg up, I think, even though it took me a while to learn the Tumblrscape. I've also been writing fanfic for a long time. Long before I ever heard about Tumblr.

I've spent years studying literature, creative writing, and screenwriting, and putting it into practice. I've spent years writing for other voices besides my own, outside of the fanfic world. Like anyone else, I can only go by what I've learned, my own instincts, my frame of reference, and what I want to write about next.

Like anyone else, I can only hope that what I put out there vibes with people and touches them in some way, enough that they feel comfortable letting me know what they thought about it. 💜

In the meantime, I'll just keep getting inspiration from this guy (and other characters):

[anakin-pilled]

𝘨𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘦𝘰𝘶𝘴 - anakin skywalker x fem! reader (part one)

pairing: anakin skywalker x fem! reader

wordcount: 4.8k

warnings: minimal uses of y/n (trying to avoid writing this as much as possible but sometimes u need to!), awkwardness, anakin needs a break, POV switching (im trying something new, but its still in 3rd POV), reader is a popstar (very loosely based of taylor swift), too many scenes (i'll limit it next chapter) rating: 18+ (my blog is 18+ only)

rating: 18+ (my blog is 18+ only)

taglist: lmk if u want to be added!

author's note: well, here it is!! my first anakin fanfic!! i was listening to gorgeous by taylor swift and it just reminded me of how much i hate beautiful men (hayden christensen) and the effect they have on me and then this feeling just spirialed and became a fanfic--and my first ever mini series! i'm aiming for four or five parts? enjoy!!! (proofread but if u see a mistake pls tell me). sorry if the first part is boring, i'm just trying to set the vibe and introduce the major plot elements! creds to saradika for the header!

All Anakin Skywalker wanted was one, uninterrupted kriffing break. Yet, even that seemed like too much to ask from the Maker. With an annoyed sigh, Anakin quickly ended the call on his comlink and made his way out of his living quarters and towards the Jedi Council’s meeting room. “What do they want from me now?” Anakin thought to himself. 

It wasn’t unusual for Anakin to sport an attitude, but lately, his foul mood had been exacerbated in the last few months for several reasons. Anakin’s recent breakup with Padme laid heavy in his heart. As the war raged on and both of their duties called them away for weeks, even months, at a time, the young couple rarely had time to see each other. It was supposed to be a small break at first–Padme was working on an important bill that could change the tide of the war, so she wanted to focus all her energy on gaining support for the bill from fellow Senators and campaigning for its passage on the Senate floor. So, Padme suggested that she and Anakin take a quick pause on their relationship until she was finished with the bill. But even after the bill passed, Padme was too consumed by her senatorial duties to put her all into a relationship. Anakin was just as busy on the battlefields, traveling to distant systems, and ensuring that the Separatists did not win any more than they already had. However, he was still willing to put an effort into their relationship because he loved Padme more than life itself. Padme was Anakin’s first love, and they had already been through so much together. Didn’t that mean something? It was late one night when the couple retired to Padme’s apartment that she dropped the news. Anakin felt as if his whole world shattered. He begged on his knees to Padme, to give them another chance. She insisted it was for the best and that she would reach out to him in a few months when she felt ready. Anakin would be lying if he said a part of him was shocked. After all, Padme put her job as Senator above everything else. But still, it hurt knowing that the one person who he would abandon everything for, would not do the same for him. 

Aside from the breakup, Anakin was tired of the constant fighting, the rising death toll, and the never-ending chaos that always seemed to follow him. The 501st Clone Battalion’s most recent war campaign was brutal, and they lost a few men to Trandoshan separatists while in battle at a small, Outer Rim planet. Anyone could see that Anakin thrived in war. He was nicknamed the “Hero With No Fear” for a reason. But, the death of his men, or any man under Republic forces, always left his heart and mind unsettled. 

As Anakin reached the door to the Jedi Council, he quickly shook his head as if to ward away his dark thoughts. He really should meditate more. The door opened and Anakin was greeted with the sight of the Jedi Masters sitting in a circle, he noticed many of them appeared via holoprojectors. 

“Hello masters,” Anakin said with a bow. He looked around until he met eyes with Obi-Wan, who happened to be off-planet at the moment. Obi-Wan gave Anakin an uneasy smile which blared the alarms in Anakin’s head. Anakin was already in a defensive mode due to his rocky relationship with the council. 

It was Mace Windu who spoke first. “General Skywalker, we have called you here today to discuss an upcoming mission. It is to our understanding that you are currently on a break right now, however, you were specifically requested by the Chancellor for this task.” It must be an important mission if the Chancellor himself requested that Anakin carry it out. 

“There will be an upcoming charity event hosted in honor of the Republic to raise funds for the war effort. The event is being held in Corulag in ten rotations from now. While Corulag is part of the Republic, there have been recent Separatist activities within the planet and its system,” Master Windu continued.

“And what will I need to do while in Corulag?” Anakin asked with a slight edge in his voice. He really didn’t want to travel off-world.

“You will be the personal escort and bodyguard to the charity’s main event, singer (Y/N) (L/N). She will be performing a show as part of the charity and her presence is estimated to bring in a lot of credits for the war effort. While we don’t personally believe there will be a threat on her life, the Chancellor suspects that the Separatists may try to infiltrate the singer as a way to ruin the charity’s efforts.” 

Anakin felt his annoyance flare up again. He was being taken away from his well-deserved break time to babysit a singer? This was a job that even a Padawan could carry–Ahsoka could do it with her eyes closed. 

Even through the holoprojector, Obi-Wan could see the tale tell signs of his former student’s growing anger. He pitied the boy. Obi-Wan felt that Anakin deserved his break, especially after his most recent mission. However, it was not up to Obi-Wan alone to make these decisions. With the war prolonging itself more than necessary and the expenses rising every day, the Republic needed as many credits as it could get from its supporters. Obi-Wan quickly piqued up from the side to calm his friend, “Anakin, the Chancellor personally requested you as the singer is a family friend of his, and he trusts you. The Council will discuss giving you vacation time after completing your mission.” As vexed as Anakin might have been at first, he certainly didn’t want to disappoint the Chancellor. He had no choice but to accept the mission. Anakin silently nodded to the council. 

“Recieve more instructions tomorrow, you will. Rest for now,” said Yoda from his chair. 

And with that, the meeting was over. Anakin said his goodbyes with a bow and walked out.

After Anakin left the meeting, he headed towards the Jedi Archives to conduct some research on his new mission. He wasn’t interested in who the singer was, or what she did. Rather, he wanted to know what kind of person she was–was she a controversial celebrity, or did she stay in the lines? Anakin prayed he wasn’t dealing with some crazy, entitled celebrity who did whatever she wanted. That would make his mission harder than it needed to be. He had heard of the singer’s name in passing from Ahsoka, who kept up with recent trends via the HoloNet. As a General and a Jedi Knight, Anakin no longer had the same sense of freedom that he had as a Padawan, even though he had much less freedom than his other Padawan counterparts. “Perks of being the Chosen One, I suppose,” Anakin bitterly whispered to himself. 

Anakin filtered past the front desk of the Archives after giving Madame Jocasta a quick nod and small time. He wanted to be in and out so he could get food from the Temple’s cantina before retreating to his living quarters for the night. 

“What do you mean they are assigning a Jedi Knight as my security detail?! I thought this was supposed to be a simple concert for a charity event, why are they assigning a Jedi if there is no imminent danger?!” you exclaimed to your manager, Gido Frisco, with a pointed look. 

When you agreed to perform at this charity event, you did so because you wanted to help raise credits for the Republic. Your management discouraged you from having any outspoken opinions on politics as it could lead to alienation from fans and tabloid backlash. But after your home planet became a recent victim to Separatist forces, you could no longer idly sit by and continue living as if the war didn’t affect you. When the charity’s organizers approached you to do this event, you happily agreed because all the credits earned were going to a meaningful cause. To the Republic. To democracy. 

The event was to consist of several performances by famous artists from throughout the Core Worlds, but you were the headlining event. Though you would humbly deny it, your popularity superseded everyone else set to perform. The media and your fans dubbed you “the Galaxy’s princess” due to your popularity as a singer across the Galactic Core. You hated that nickname. You were very far from a princess–you were just lucky enough to be born with an innate musical talent. Nonetheless, you were still treated as if you were royalty. 

“Look, I’m going to be blunt with you. There has been Separatist activity in and around Corulag, but we don’t predict that it will directly affect you. Think of the Jedi as an extra security personnel. They won’t let anybody or anything hurt you,” explained Gido. 

“Who is we?”

“We as in myself, and the Chancellor. He was quite worried for your safety when he heard of your acceptance to perform.” That made much more sense. The Chancellor, an old family friend of yours, often looked out for you throughout your years on Coruscant. You had no family on the planet as all your family lived on Bar’leth, only visiting you every few months. While you saw them as often as you could, the help and care they provided you was limited to messages on your holo tablet and calls via communicator. The Chancellor took it upon himself to help you whenever he could. You were extremely grateful for his help, but you couldn’t help but feel unnerved by the thought of having a Jedi accompany you. You knew Jedis were the peacekeepers of the galaxy. As the war started and worsened, the Jedi were thrust into a new, partial position. Where the Jedi went, trouble unfortunately followed. Would more trouble follow you if you were accompanied by a Jedi than if you were not? Only time would tell. 

“Very well. And when will I meet this Jedi?” 

“You will meet him tomorrow morning. Please do not stress the situation. We are merely taking precautions. Rest for tonight and we will talk more in the morning. Goodnight, princess.” And with that, Gido walked out of your apartment and you were left alone.

You walked outside and onto your balcony and observed the night sky. Your eyes followed the speeders flying through the air–a cacophony of honks and whizzes! reached your ears. You leaned upon the stone masonry of the balcony’s railing and rested your elbows on its surface. You then laid your cheek in your palm and closed your eyes as the lights of Corscuant reflected off your statue. You took into the slight breeze of the night and enjoyed this moment of serenity. Who knows what the next few rotations will bring? You could only hope you would suffer a nicer faith than your home planet. Your eyes opened, and you retreated into the lush interior of your apartment and began your nightly routine. 

Holy kriff, this man is kriffing gorgeous! Those were the first words that popped into your head when you saw the Jedi knight walk into your living room. It was early in the morning. You thought he was only supposed to accompany you at the charity benefit, but your team thought it would be best if he accompanied you throughout the week as you prepared for the event and ran errands. 

As he walked closer to you, you felt your mouth run dry and a creeping heating sensation sprouted from the base of your neck to your cheeks. You could only hope he didn’t feel the heat radiating off your body. He was wearing dark-colored robes, with a maroon long-sleeve undershirt, and only one leather glove on his right arm. Was this a fashion statement of some kind? Gido spoke up before you could say anything. 

“Welcome, and thank you for being here Jedi. I can assure you that it means very much to us and I hope that you find yourself comfortable for the next few rotations. Our team will do its best to ensure you are properly accommodated. My name is Gido Frisco, and I am (Y/N)’s manager.” Gido reached out his hand for Anakin to shake. Anakin took his hand in a firm grip and replied.

“Thank you. My name is Anakin Skywalker, general of the 501st Legion. I will do my best to keep (Y/N) safe.”

Anakin. You had heard of him before–he was the Republic’s poster boy and a very successful leader. Though you knew of him, you had yet to put a face to the name until now. Instead of making eye contact with the man, you simply stared at the ground until Gido included you in the conversation. 

“And this is (Y/N),” Gido said. 

You then looked up at Anakin and made eye contact with the gorgeous man in front of you. Your eyes widened slightly as you took in the color of his eyes. They were a dazzling shade of blue that was highlighted by the scar running down the right side of his forehead to underneath his eye. 

There was an awkward moment of silence before you stuttered as you reintroduced your name to Anakin and shook his hand. Shit, he's strong, you thought as he shook your hand with a firm grasp. If there was one thing you were weak for, it was a strong man. A strong, beautiful man!

“Pleasure to meet you too. I’ll be at your service this week,” Anakin stated with a small smile. Kriff, even his voice was attractive! You could only stare at him and nod. You were truly at a loss for words. Wait, can he hear my thoughts right now? You thought to yourself. You heard the Jedi could use the Force to read minds, but you didn’t know if this was just a rumor. You hoped it was just a rumor or you'd find yourself burying yourself six feet under the ground out of embarrassment.

“Well, now that you two are acquainted, I’ll be taking Anakin so we can go over the security details. Stay here until then.” Gido then led Anakin out of the room and that was the last you saw of the Jedi until dinner time. 

When Anakin woke up the next morning, he walked toward the Temple’s catina to grab a warm cup of caf and breakfast. The food was meager most days, but it beat having to live off the plain-tasting ration bars that he ate most of the time when he was on missions and campaigns. As Anakin walked through the tables to find a seat, he was greeted by the site of his former master sipping on a cup of tea and conversing with Ahsoka. 

“Ahh, Anakin. Nice to see you this morning. I am terribly sorry that you have been called upon for another mission. I do believe that your rest was well-deserved, but unfortunately, I had no power over this decision,” Obi-Wan stated as he continued to sip on his tea. 

“Thanks, Master. I can’t say I’m particularly excited about this, but hopefully, after this is done, I can properly enjoy my rest.”

“Master, you’re so lucky! I am so jealous of you right now. I wish I could join you, but Master Sinabu has requested that I assist him in a few lessons with the younglings,” Ashoka pipped in. “Hey, do you think you could get me an autograph?” She was excited. Ahsoka was no stranger to being in the company of high-profile people, but most of the time, it was limited to officials and members of the Senate. Boring! The thought of her master working with one of the most famous singers of this generation was honestly hilarious to her. A part of her wished it was her on this mission instead. The last time Anakin was on babysitting duty was when Ahsoka first joined Anakin as his Padawan was to rescue Jabba the Hutt’s son. Much like Anakin, Ahsoka believed this task could’ve been carried out by a Padawan, but as Obi-Wan explained to her, the Chancellor personally requested Anakin for this task. 

“Snips, I’m there to protect, not get autographs. Try practicing your mediation skills, and maybe I’ll get you an autograph,” Anakin said with a small smirk on his face. Much like him in his Padawan days, Ahsoka found meditating tedious and boring. He honestly should meditate more to set a better example, but Anakin’s teaching method was more of “Do as I say, not as I do.” 

“Oh come on Skyguy! You owe me this favor after I saved your butt back on Florrum. What would you have done if I wasn’t there to save you from all those assassin droids?” quipped Ashoka with a slight raise in her eyebrows. Damn, she got me there, thought Anakin to himself. But, he wasn’t going to let her have this win so easily. One might say that Anakin was acting immature for his age, but he and Ahsoka’s relationship thrived off witty remarks and friendly competition. Anakin’s relationship with Ahsoka was one of the most precious things in his life. 

“Except I won our last sparring battle. That makes us even, no?” Ahsoka’s smile quickly dropped, and she glared at her master. Anakin took a sip of his caf and continued, “Only kidding, Snips. I’ll try to get you that autograph. I might be too busy trying to keep this singer out of trouble.”

Obi-Wan observed his former student and Ahsoka with fondness. “Do not worry, young one. You will beat Anakin one day. A student is only as good as their teacher, and you have a good teacher. I would know–I taught him,” Obi-Wan joked with the two. “Anakin, I hope this mission goes smoothly. I know how badly your last assignment went.” Obi-Wan placed his hand on Anakin’s shoulder and squeezed it.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Though Anakin’s ego subsided since he lost his arm at the Battle of Geonosis, it didn’t mean he liked talking about his failures. The Separatists somehow acquired important Republic intel and managed to ruin Anakin’s battle strategy with a surprise attack. He and his men just barely made it out on time before a full Separatist takeover happened. Anakin’s appetite was ruined by the thought of it. 

Suddenly, Anakin’s commlink beeped and he knew it was time to head out to the hangar and receive his instructions for the week. He said his farewells to Obi-Wan and Ahsoka before going to the hangar, where he was surprisingly greeted by the Chancellor. The older man smiled at Anakin and shook his hand.

“Anakin, my boy. I cannot express my gratitude to you for accepting this assignment. You see, I specifically asked for you because I knew that I could trust you with my dear family friend. I do hope that you take care of her well.” 

“Of course, Chancellor. She will be safe under my watch.” 

“Now, she shouldn’t give you any trouble. She is a well-mannered girl. However, I have just received secret Separatist intel and wanted to share it with you before I visit the council. According to the intel, Count Dooku has ordered intelligence to interfere with the benefit. Our report says that he is planning on hacking our broadcasting signal and threatening the talent for the whole galaxy to see. For what, I do not not know. While we do expect the benefit to raise many credits for the Republic, the show will also provide a boost in morale for the citizens of the Republic. I theorize that Count Dooku wishes to ruin the public’s perception of the Republic’s efficiency and control over the war and the talent are a way to do this,” explained Chancellor Palpatine.

Anakin furrowed his brows. “Seems like Count Dooku is running out of scare tactics. Chancellor, the Jedi will ensure that the benefit proceeds as expected and that no harm comes to anyone there.” 

The Chancellor smiled at Anakin’s words. “Thank you, my boy. Now I mustn’t take any more of your time. I will let you go now. You will receive more information on the Separatist intel later on.”

Anakin and the Chancellor shook hands once more before Anakin boarded his ship and plugged in the coordinates provided to him by the council. 

Anakin’s first impression of you was that you were pretty. A delicate kind of pretty that Anakin had only seen in one other person before, Padme. But as quickly as the thought entered his conscious, he pushed it toward the back of his mind. What was he even thinking? He chalked up to him missing Padme. Yeah…Anakin just missed Padme and now that he was in the same familiar situation that he was in a few years ago when he first met Padme, familiar feelings are rising. After all, this wasn’t the first time Anakin had been sent on bodyguard duty for a well-known beautiful public figure. 

Your manager introduced himself to Anakin and then introduced you to him. Though he wasn’t excited about this mission, he couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit relieved that he would be staying in your luxurious apartment for the next few rotations until you traveled off-world. It wasn’t very often that the Jedi were afforded such accommodations. Anakin had spent his fair share of nights seeking refuge in strange, foreign biomes with only mere sticks and leaves as shelter. If he couldn’t sleep in the comfort of his private quarters at the Temple, he might as well enjoy the lavish high-rise Coruscanti apartment. 

Despite Anakin’s initial impression of you, your reaction toward him was…intriguing. Based on his research last night, Anakin couldn’t anything on the HoloNet that painted you in a bad light. Sure, there were the occasional tabloid articles that made outrageous claims about you, but all of those were overridden by the amount of good publicity you got. Charismatic, friendly, confident, a sweetheart–these were all words used to describe you by the various media outlets. But the person standing in front of Anakin seemed everything but that. 

Your nervous energy radiated off you and permeated Anakin’s senses through the force. You avoided eye contact with him until your manager forced you to properly look at Anakin and introduce yourself to him. You definitely didn’t seem as confident as the Holo Net made you out to be, but Anakin didn’t fault you for this. He’s sure you felt nervous in the presence of a Jedi because it implied that there was some danger lurking around. If there wasn’t, he wouldn’t have been assigned to his task. What did you know about the terrors of war and the cruel reality of death and destruction? You were just a rich celebrity located within the safe confines of the Galatic Core. Anakin felt a twinge of jealousy at this notion. He knew that he belonged with the Jedi, but Anakin couldn’t help but feel envy at the fact that you were simply an innocent civilian whose daily life was virtually unaffected by the war. You didn’t have to witness violent bloodshed, say goodbye to your comrades, and live life constantly on the move. Sometimes Anakin longed for his days on Tatooine when he lived with his mother and worked in Watto’s workshop. He was a poor slaveboy, but at least he had his mother, and life was relatively peaceful. Before Anakin could harp on these thoughts any longer, he caught a stray thought that didn’t belong to him. 

Kriff, even his voice was attractive! Anakin was sure the thought didn’t belong to Gido, so he could only assume that it belonged to the woman standing in front of him. Anakin internally smirked to himself. Could it be that Anakin made you nervous for reasons other than him being a Jedi? Perhaps…you found Anakin attractive. Anakin didn’t care if you found him attractive, but it did boost his ego a bit. It seems his split from Padme was affecting him more than he thought. Since when did trivial things like this matter? 

Anakin looked over you once more before following Gido to discuss the schedule and plan for the upcoming rotations. 

Dinner was…awkward, to say the least. It was just you and Anakin eating in your dining room. Gido had some business he needed to attend to so he could not join you for dinner. Anakin insisted that he could eat somewhere else as he did not want to intrude, but you insisted that he eat with you. It was the polite thing to do. But after you insisted that Anakin sat with you, you realized that you had nothing to talk about. A singer and a Jedi Knight turned war general? What would you have in common? A pregnant silence enshrouded you both. Only the soft clinks of silverware could be heard. 

You sipped on your water every few bites to calm your nerves. This was so unlike you! Honestly, you were never one to shy away from anyone’s presence. A part of your job was selling a likable persona to the public–countless interviews, media appearances, meet and greets! You had done these all with grace and a smile. Yet you couldn’t find the proper words to say to the gorgeous man sitting right across from you. Geez, he must think I’m one of those stuck-up celebrities, you chided in your head. You were far from stuck up, but something about Anakin set your nerves on fire and made the social part of your brain feel like mush. Sweat started building up in your armpits as you thought about it. You had to do something to salvage your reputation and stop yourself from sweating through your outfit.

You cleared your throat and looked up from your dinner plate. “So, Anakin. How do you know the Chancellor? I hear you’re friends with him.”

“I’ve known the Chancellor since I was a little boy. We first met when I left my home planet after I was discovered by a Jedi named Qui-Gon Jinn. He was Naboo’s representative back then.”

“Oh, that's interesting. My family goes way back with the Chancellor too. My father and him studied at the same university on Naboo. Though my father was a few grades below the Chancellor, they became good friends,” you replied. 

Anakin nodded at your story before focusing his attention elsewhere. You internally deflated once you saw he did not seem to care about keeping a conversation. However, if you were going to spend the new few rotations together, you’d rather it not be more awkward than it already was. 

“Uhm, where are you from? You mentioned that you left your home planet. I’m not from Coruscant either! I am from Bar’leth.” 

“Tatooine,” Anakin answered curtly. The way Anakin said Tatooine almost made you think that he disliked his home planet. He didn’t say it with any fondness, or longing. 

“That’s in the Outer Rim, right? I’ve never been. How is it?” you questioned.

“Hot, lawless, and sandy.” Another short answer.

You got the impression that Anakin wasn’t exactly fond of his home planet, so you decided to change the subject of conversation. “You travel a lot as a Jedi. Which has been your favorite planet so far?”

Anakin was silent for a moment before, as if he were thinking deeply about it. In reality, Anakin knew his favorite planet. Naboo. He only paused for a moment because he was unsure if he wanted to reveal this information to you. Though it was seemingly an innocent question (and it was), Anakin felt it was a vulnerable question. Naboo is the planet he spent days frolicking in the lush, romantic meadows with Padme, falling deeper in love with her as the days passed. Naboo represented a part of Anakin that no longer existed–an Anakin that didn’t know the pain of losing a mother, losing a part of himself in the process. When his mother died, gone became the young boy with a golden aura and eyes full of hope. On Naboo, Anakin was still bright and naive with a laughter full of joy and excitement. That Anakin died the day he and Padme set out to find his mother on Tatooine. Anakin wished every day to the Maker that part of him could come back from the dead and replace who he currently was. To better days.

“Naboo. That’s my favorite planet,” answered Anakin. He decided to be truthful instead of responding with a random planet. Anakin didn’t know what compelled him, but he knew you were only being polite. 

“Naboo is beautiful. Though I mainly grew up in Bar’leth, I spent a lot of my childhood summers in Naboo. I don’t think there is any other planet with views as stunning as Naboo,” you revealed. 

You felt that there was nothing else to say. The remainder of the dinner was quiet. Though there wasn’t as much tension as before, it was still awkward. You finished your dinner as quickly as possible before retreating to your personal quarters for the evening. 

To be continued!

[discjude]

1st part done! this is the three pillars that'll be in the centre. the mirror modifier on blender never works with me properly so it isn't EXACTLY how i wanted but it looks GOOD ENOUGH!!! It'll be lit up (hopefully) on the cover so the cool geometry can be seen more. I also had to learn how the 3D cursor and origins worked for this so was good practise!

Going to work on this more later today (it is. 1:30 in the morning now) and for my own personal reference the action plan is as follows:

Wednesday: finish all modelling/sculpting work needed

Thursday: research how to do proper rendering and texturing (this might come down to being UV shading tbh since I know how to do that). Hopefully work out a more glassy/reflective look for this and some other 3D elements

Friday: Text design for the logo. this shouldn't take ages and is effectively a rest day

Saturday: background design - will require a bit of writing/photographing but I can do all of that

Sunday: working out which program I'm going to compile everything on. The easiest solution would be to model the ENTIRE thing in on Blender (so i construct the background behind the 3D peices) then use software like GIMP to add the text. the other option is using adobe's background remover and using screenshots of the modelled stuff but that might result in a lower quality image

I think allowing more time for the learning how to render day might be a good idea so everything might be shifted down a day but still. the modelling can be DONE because i can USE BLENDER COMPETENTLY

So new ENTV video out (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FN8-EgqnRmQ) about Coven. Few thoughts

a) I am going to need that journal I do not care how I obtain it

b) it's going to be set outside of the endless woods. That are endless. Interesting to see how that plays out

c) soman talking about why people are drawn to the coven so much is very funny considering he didn't mention the Very Obvious Reason: wlw people

d) the prospect of the books getting graphic novel forms is very very interesting. I would honestly say for this I'd rather they be prequels/TCY graphic novels instead of TSY, solely because I've seen book 1 so many times in different forms. also I do NOT want to see Aric in the red school art style

e) I think I'll try and enter the competition since I can in fact do graphic design. Wait for it to be US shipping only lmao

[vixstarria]

Bloodbang Chronicles - Masterlist

Series summary:

Five years have passed since the confrontation with the Netherbrain. Astarion and his warlock lover, Asmodea, are living it up in Baldur’s Gate, running a cabaret. Their life of decadence and debauchery seems idyllic, until Asmodea’s patron disrupts it with a proposal. One that seems too good to be true. One they cannot refuse.

Pairing: Astarion x Original Female Character

Genre: Humor / adventure / smut, with all the usual Astarion-related elements along the way, without getting too heavy

Rating: Explicit

This is a post-game continuation of my bardlock series, which was mostly written in 2nd person POV, with the OC referred to as “Tav” where they had to be named. Rest assured it’s been about Asmodea all along. You can consider the oneshots a prequel.

Read on AO3

Tumblr navigation:

Chapter 1 - Madam Asmodea

Chapter 2 - Oddie

Chapter 3 - Fuckface

Chapter 4 - The Dancing Siren

Chapter 5 [*] - Warnings and weddings

Chapter 6 [**] - Improper use of spiderclimb

Chapter 7 - Are you not entertained?!

Chapter 8 - A little bit of murder

Chapter 9 - Final preparations

Chapter 10 [***] - Halsin

Chapter 11 - On the road again

Chapter 12 - Mercy

[*] asterisks to indicate smut - the more, the smuttier. (and 3 stars for threesomes, lol)

Leave a comment if you'd like to be added to the tag list!

Thank you @brabblesblog for the header! ��

[grainjew]

Nikaposting Pt 2: Symbology & Syncretism

This is the second of a series of posts about Nika & associated religious practice in the One Piece world. As I write and post the rest of the series, I’ll add links to this header.

Pt 1: Crypto-Religion | Pt 3: Joyboy was Shandian | Pt 4: Sun God Tropes

Enormous credit to @oriigami for being my discussion partner through all of this and having a substantial influence on the final product. Check out our ao3 series Joyful for a narrative rather than analytical take on the Nika tradition, and definitely go read her OP blog @kaizokuou-ni-naru for meta and translation fun facts.

-

So About That Sun Symbol (and all those sun gods)

Context note: This post assumes you’ve read pt 1. If you haven’t, the TLDR is that the Nika cult is best categorized as a crypto-religion and may not ever have existed outside of a cryptic and oral form.

There’s a lot of sun gods in One Piece. And there’s a lot of appearances of that sun symbol we discussed briefly in pt 1, with the disconnected rays. This post will cover that symbol, the survival of non-Kuma Nika cult branches, and the proliferation of sun gods across the One Piece world.

The sun symbol can be found everywhere, in what seems at first to be a wildly disparate collection of places. There are a number of borderline cases, so I’ll be defining the “Nika sun symbol” as being any symbol with a central circle, disconnected rays, and four- or eight-fold radial symmetry. This leaves us the below list (images of the majority of these instances can be found in this very helpful post):

The Kuma-Bonney/Buccaneer version found in his church and on the amulet he left for her (8 circular rays) ; this is our basic template for the symbol

The Alabasta national symbol (8 droplet-shaped rays; the droplets seem to be drawn at various different orientations depending on the panel)

The Kozuki crest (8 circular rays in the center of a bird in the center of another circle also there’s some sprouts or something)

The Shandian crest (8 circular rays inside a larger circle, also the central circle contains the kanji for kami/god)

The Sun Pirates’ mark (4 more traditional flaring rays; the rays seem to be drawn inconsistently, especially in the anime)

There’s also Ace’s dagger, which has the basic template version, but one can assume he bought that thing in Alabasta or something like that.

From this we can conclude that the sun with disconnected rays is not exclusively a Nika symbol- in fact I would be surprised if it was, because of how prominently it was displayed in Kuma’s church (see the discussion in pt 1). However, Alabasta, Shandora, and Wano are all poneglyph countries, and were all involved in some way or another in [incomprehensible void century muttering]. I would be extremely unsurprised if the sun with disconnected rays wasn’t a more widely-spread popular symbol among [void century muttering] countries back then, which was adopted by Nika worshippers as their secret symbol around that time and simultaneously retained in more benign form by certain nations as an element of their national symbology.

(Sidenote: If you were unaware, Oda snagged this symbol from a castle in his hometown and clearly just seems to enjoy drawing it. However that doesn’t matter to us in meta analysis land. We continue.)

The Nika cult absolutely survived outside Kuma’s family: at the very least, among slaves on Mariejois. There’s a very high chance Fisher Tiger heard Nika stories while enslaved- the compositional similarity of the Sun Pirates’ mark to the base Nika symbol, Jinbe’s pissed off refusal to answer any of Who’s-Who’s questions, Fisher Tiger’s own status as a warrior of liberation, and of course, the Sun Pirates’ name and the importance of the sun to the residents of Fishman Island all point in this direction.

The proliferation of the Nika sun symbol across the world also points, to me, to at least pockets of the Nika cult potentially surviving in cryptic form across the world, like Kuma’s family did, with various levels of conscious awareness about what their rituals and symbols actually mean and what secret seditious knowledge they’re actually carrying.

However! All that said! Not all sun gods are Nikas- At least, not completely.

Upon their arrival at Egghead Island, Dorry and Broggy identified Luffy as the Sun God. However, I contend that Nika was not originally Elbaf’s sun god.

In expository Nika dialogue, Nika is specifically cited as a god of slaves (& as an ethnic or cultural god of the buccaneer people), and the giants as far as we know are (1), not a traditionally enslaved people nor particularly easy to enslave, (2), are based on Vikings & have their own pantheon which includes a god of war, & (3), while I can absolutely see how a tradition of a prolonged fast > feast festival would have evolved around a Nika figure, it does still feel a little strange. That’s supposed to be a Luffy-alike!

Besides this, the Shandian pantheon also includes a sun god, and I think it’s reasonable to assume that the sun god in question existed prior to any awakened user of the Nika fruit running around causing issues (although, more on my thoughts about Joyboy and Shandora in pt 3). Human sacrifice traditions also feel about as odd for a Luffy figure as fasting does, and while obviously Luffy, Joyboy, and Nika aren’t the same person, with the way One Piece’s narrative conventions work they’re probably quite similar.

Solar deities are the lynchpins of many if not most traditions in the real world. Sun’s a very notable noticable thing that follows a set course across the sky and brings light and life! And especially in One Piece, where the sun is also a critical thematic element and motif, I would be surprised if the majority of One Piece cultures hadn’t developed their own sun gods at some point or other.

So, all that said, why were Dorry and Broggy calling Luffy Sun God? Syncretism.

Not every god has a mythical zoan or the things would be wildly more common- only gods and figures with, as @oriigami put it while we were talking about this, a particularly potent wish attached to them. Even fewer gods have awakened mythical zoan users around. So when an awakened user of a sun god’s mythical zoan is running around (and particularly, a sun god with an incredibly potent wish attached, because Nika is a god of liberation as well as the sun, and it’s a god that people wish they could be and emulate as a matter of course), it’s easy to fold them into your mythology as your sun god. Tradition is very malleable! He’s the sun, even if he’s not exactly how you traditionally pictured it.

Traditions are very good at working with what they get, and at the moment what they get is a smiling, laughing pirate captain and liberator of slaves. What could be better?

[bluejayblueskies]

formaldehyde | SupposedToBeWriting

Happy Fanfiction Writers Appreciation Day! On August 21, the fan community comes together to celebrate fanfiction writers. I took part in the @renegadepublishing Discord server’s FFWAD event, where we bound one (or more!) books for writers and sent it to them by the 21st. This year, I decided to bind @organchordsandlightning‘s fic formaldehyde!

This bind is especially unique for me because it contains over a hundred combined pieces of artwork from two artists--@genderfluid-druid and @captaincravatthecapricious​. I’m still in the process of making copies for them, but they made some absolutely fantastic art that’s spread throughout the book as well as included in a glossy center spread and featured on the cover!

More pictures and information below the cut!

The biggest challenge with this bind was making sure that all the artwork printed correctly. I ended up having to fiddle a lot with what I printed in black and white and what I printed in color, as well as the brightness and contrast settings for some of the artwork. I also got to do some fun stuff with chapter 10, which is a series of journal entries, notes, memos, and other epistolary-esque additions to the fic.

I also started experimenting with refilling my own ink cartridges while printing this, and I think I'm really happy with it! Ink is so incredibly expensive, and though it's a bit of a messy process that might have some hiccups along the way, getting an $11 pack of ink is dramatically cheaper than buying new cartridges and it will allow me to print more ink-heavy stuff like this in the future without worrying about my budget!

I leaned heavily into the Prohibition themes in this fic and went with a whiskey tumbler table of contents and alcohol barrel title page. I also included the ritual sacrifice elements in the chapter headers, which have the knife that John carries around for a good portion of the fic.

I had a lot of fun with this bind, and I'm hoping to finish up the last three copies of it within the next month or so!

(As a bonus, here's the book on the author's shelf!!!)

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Perzys se Rūkla (Fire and Flowers) - Chapter Six

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x original female character (Melessa Tyrell) Warnings: Mentions of infidelity, angst, strong language, mentions of pregnancy, childbirth, smut. Word count: ~3k

Chapter summary: Daemon makes two life changing discoveries. Series summary here.

Endless thanks and all the love to my absolute ride or die @em-writes-stuff-sometimes for cheerleading, beta'ing and just generally being the bestest fandom boo a gal could have.

Author's note: No tag list - please follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications. Only scabs community label fics. If you find yourself tempted to slap a label on this, please block me instead.

Header by the insanely talented @em-writes-stuff-sometimes

Maester Orwyle drops heavily to his feet once Daemon’s grip on the front of his robes loosens. He scurries away fearfully, scarcely even sparing a glance behind him.

Daemon’s temper still burns hot within his veins. How dare she hide this from me?

The force with which he throws open the doors would be enough to wake Melessa up ordinarily; but under ordinary circumstances, she wouldn’t be under the influence of milk of the poppy. Thus, she remains asleep.

He softens upon taking in her appearance, his anger leaving him as he watches her laying there. She’d look peaceful were it not for the tear tracks upon her cheeks—tears he has caused her. His wife. 

The mother of his child.

She does not deserve his anger any more than he deserves her forgiveness, as much as he yearns for it. He sits carefully on the bed next to her, longing to reach out and brush his fingers against the peachy softness of her face. He refrains. She has expressed a wish for him not to touch her. He owes it to her to respect that, even in sleep.

Whether she is prepared to allow him to make amends now or not, he knows he cannot permit her to return to Highgarden. Not now that she carries his child. She has given him a reason to do better, to be better.

He wants to watch her grow round and full with his offspring, to see the effects that he has had on her body as it adapts to the life nestled within. He feels his cock stir at the thought and swallows thickly, attempting to push the urge away. Perhaps her shape had begun to change already and he hadn’t noticed. He finds himself thinking back to the last few times they’d been intimate. He had been so rough, so hurried, so desperate for fulfillment that he had barely registered her beneath him. If he had the opportunity to go back he would take his time with her, run his hands over her curves and appreciate them, notice the subtle swell to her breasts and the added plushness to her hips.

There is an ache in his chest as he continues to look upon her. He has to make this right. A child of his own is something Daemon has never thought about; never wanted, until now. And now, he does not think he has ever desired anything more desperately.

He has no idea how long he continues to sit there for. Soon, the sky is breaking into vibrant hues of yellow, orange and red upon the horizon, indicating dawn’s approach. He hadn’t seen Melessa eat since Rhaenyra’s coronation feast the previous afternoon. She will awaken soon and surely feel ravenous with hunger. Daemon cannot abide that, not when their child relies upon her nourishment.

Reluctantly, he rises from the bed and makes his way to the kitchens. There is plentiful food left over from the day before; he orders the few staff that are awake and working already to put together a platter. Salted meats, pies, bread, hard cheese and tarts are piled high upon the tray, enough to feed both him and Melessa for today and the day after that. He knows it is too much, but this is as much to prove a point as it is to give his wife breakfast. Even in the wrong, Daemon cannot resist the urge to maintain the element of surprise.

Melessa is stirring, sleepily rubbing her eyes as he re-enters her bedchamber, setting the heaped tray upon the foot of the bed. She sits up, her brow furrowing as she looks upon the food that’s been placed before her.

“What’s all this?” she asks, voice thick with sleep.

“Breakfast,” Daemon tells her with a smirk, leaning against the bedpost and folding his arms as he watches her.

“There is so much of it…” Her blue eyes glance up towards him before dropping back to the spread of food.

“Yes—I suppose there is,” he says. “It was tricky for me to know how much to have brought up to you… considering you are eating for two now.”

Her hand that had been reaching towards the food pulls suddenly back into her lap. She stares at him, brows raised in shock. “You know.”

It isn’t so much a question as it is a statement. Daemon simply nods, attempting to mask the satisfied smile that spreads across his face. He may have caught her out, but ultimately he is still in the wrong.

“How?” she asks, pressing her lips into a tight line.

“I caught Maester Orwyle sneaking out of your chambers in the middle of the night,” he tells her matter-of-factly.

“Oh gods. Daemon—what did you do to him?”

His wife knows him too well. He is unable to help the upward tug at the corners of his mouth. “Nothing he won’t recover from. Eat.”

Melessa sighs and reaches for a piece of bread, tearing it apart with her hands as Daemon resumes his earlier position beside her.

“How long have you known?” he asks after a few moments pass between them in silence.

“Since we arrived back in King’s Landing,” she replies between bites.

“And how long since you last bled?”

He can see her considering his question as she chews, trying to recall. “About three moons.”

Daemon can feel his mood darkening and draws in a deep breath in an attempt to calm himself. His voice is tight when he asks his next question. “And not once did it occur to you to tell me?”

“I was going to,” she begins softly. “There was so much going on already, with your brother passing away. I had planned to tell you after Rhaenyra’s coronation, but then…”

She trails off, her bottom lip trembling slightly and Daemon feels his heart squeeze at the sight.

“Then I fucked it all up,” he says sadly.

“Hm.” Melessa places her half eaten bread back on the tray, leaning back against the headboard. “You’re not going to let me leave, are you? Not now that you know.”

Daemon feels like he’d be serving another blow to her, to admit this aloud, true as it is. He wants nothing more than to comfort her, to pull her against his chest and breathe in the sweet scent of her golden hair.

“I need you to know that nothing happened…with that girl,” he tells her. “I won’t deny that I tried, and I cannot begin to explain why I did, but I couldn’t…because she wasn’t you, petal.”

“Am I supposed to be grateful?” she asks bitterly.

“No, but it is proof of the fact that I care for you.”

“And yet you have never told me you love me.”

“I’ve never told anyone that before, not even my own brother. Perhaps that is my mistake.”

“But do you love me?”

He is determined not to leave the pause that he did yesterday, to not make her doubt his feelings for her any further than he already has. He takes a breath, steeling himself against his impending vulnerability. “Our time on Dragonstone together was the happiest I ever remember being. I hated having to give that up to return here. Everything in this wretched place serves as a reminder that I am not good enough for you, not good enough to be Hand of the King.”

“And yet, you are my husband and Hand of the Queen,” Melessa reminds him.

“I stole you from my nephew. My niece made me Hand because my brother would not.”

“Perhaps you ought to spend more time appreciating what you have, rather than resenting the reason you have it.”

He huffs through his nose. She is right and he despises it, but it is one of the things he has grown to love about her. Yes. Love. 

“I think about you all the time,” he tells her. “I find myself wishing for your presence when you are not by my side. Your scent is imprinted upon me in such a way that nothing else satisfies; I yearn for you more than I ever have for anyone. If that is love, then—yes. I love you… as much as I am able to love another person.”

She stares straight ahead as he speaks, her expression unreadable. The quiet hangs heavy between them when he finishes. Daemon’s heart races, worried she’ll reject him despite him having opened up to her.

Melessa shifts slightly in the bed. “Can you take the food away?” she asks. “The smell is making me feel unwell. I will not return to Highgarden, but I would appreciate some time to myself. I need to rest.”

Daemon nods, standing and removing the food from the end of the bed. He hovers by the door as Melessa settles back down to sleep, debating whether to try to kiss her or not. Deciding against it—he sees her eyes flutter closed—he pushes the tray into the hands of a chambermaid and makes his way out of the Red Keep.

He expects that Rhaenyra will summon him at some point today. It is her first official day as Queen; she will no doubt want a meeting of the Small Council. It is still early, however, and with yesterday’s festivities, he doesn’t anticipate her being ready to call everyone forth until the afternoon. He decides a ride on dragonback will help clear his mind. He has much to think about, though he is glad at having convinced Melessa to remain in King’s Landing without the need for force.

As Daemon approaches the Dragonpit, he notices excited commotion amongst the Keepers. The head of them gives him a beaming smile when he spots him and hurries over, staff in hand, to clap Daemon on the shoulder. He scowls at the overfamiliarity. Before he can enquire as to what the meaning of all of this is, he hears what the Keeper has to say.

“Syrax has laid a clutch! Her first in two decades!”

Daemon raises his eyebrows, the perceived slight immediately forgotten. “Dragon eggs?”

“Yes, Your Grace. We hadn’t known she was gravid. It appears the return of Caraxes has been fruitful for her.”

“Show me,” Daemon commands, excitement fluttering within him.

The head Dragon Keeper guides him through the gloom and humidity of the Pit until they reach a mucus-coated membrane upon the earthen floor. 

Daemon crouches, breaking apart the protective layer that coats the top of them. Beneath lay four dragon eggs. His eye is immediately drawn to one that is iridescent shades of orange and red, fading into a vibrant green towards the bottom.

Carefully, he lifts it, turning it over in his hands, feeling the warmth of its hardened scales against his fingertips. “Perzys se rūkla,” he whispers.

Two Keepers approach, a steaming pot meant to incubate the eggs carried between them.

Daemon rights himself, keeping a hold of the egg he’s taken. “You may take those three.” He nods towards the ground. “And inform the Queen of Syrax’s clutch. I am taking this one.”

Melessa is still dozing when he returns. This time, he has no hesitation in waking her. He grins down at her as she grouses to herself, blinking her eyes slowly open.

“For the babe,” he tells her, holding the egg out.

She gasps, reaching out to place her hands over it, her fingers overlapping with his.

Daemon releases a steady exhale at the contact, the first physical touch they’ve shared in what feels like an age. He leans forward, resting his forehead against hers as they hold the egg together, the aroma of almond oil and rosewater flooding his senses. Finally, it feels as though everything may work out exactly as he wants.

This time, he does not fear it.

**SIX MONTHS LATER**

Daemon paces the room. Each of Melessa’s pained screams cause him to wince as they echo off of the vaulted ceilings. A gaggle of attendants rally around her, mopping away sweat and blood as she produces each fluid anew.

Should there be so much blood? Is she going to be alright?

His throat constricts at the possibility he might lose her. He has ignored the pleas for him to leave the room, does not trust that she will not meet the fate of his brother’s first wife, Aemma, should she fall into difficulties.

He will not have her carved open like some roasted hog, just for the sake of some squawking brat. He will end this child’s life long before he ever considers taking hers.

He longs to brush her dampened hair from her temples, to hold her hand and encourage her through her labours, but he has not been allowed beside the bed. The birthing bed is no place for a husband, he is told. Daemon thinks that is utter shit.

He stills when he hears the first wails, too high-pitched to possibly be his wife’s. He turns to see Melessa exhausted but still very much alive, panting against the pillows as a bloodied, squirming mass is lifted from between her legs.

“A boy,” announces a voice from somewhere. He barely registers it, everything seeming far away as the child is separated from his mother, swaddled, and placed into Daemon’s arms.

He has never held anything so fragile before in his life. His arms wrap instinctively around the tiny bundle, a lump forming in his throat as he gazes down at the scrunched up, reddened face that looks up at him with apparent displeasure. 

“Ñuhus trēsȳs,” he whispers. “You have a face I’m sure your mother will love.” My son.

He walks around to the side of the bed, and places the child in Melessa’s waiting arms. “Well done, petal,” he murmurs, kissing her temple. “You have given me a son.”

Daemon’s heart swells at the adoration with which she looks down at the babe with, her fingers tracing over his tiny cheek.

“What shall we name him?” she asks, voice hoarse from her labour pains.

“I was thinking Viserys, after my brother,” Daemon says, perching on the edge of the bed and wrapping his arm around her shoulders.

“A fine name, indeed.” She smiles. “Little Viserys.”

“Avy jorrāelagon,” he whispers, pressing his nose to her hair. It is a sentiment he ensures his wife and child will never go without hearing from him ever again. I love you.

**SIX WEEKS LATER**

Daemon’s hands wander over Melessa’s nightgown, pawing and squeezing at her flesh as she lays beside him. Under instruction from the Maesters, he and Melessa have not laid together for six weeks in order to allow her body to heal from having given birth. The wait has felt agonising to him; the last time he had been inside of her had been during the last few weeks of her pregnancy. Towards the end, Viserys had sat too low in her womb for them to be intimate without it causing her discomfort.

The wait has been maddening for Daemon. His fist will never satisfy him the way that the warmth of her cunt can.

She squirms uneasily against his touch. “Daemon— please,” she whimpers. “My body has changed since I became a mother.”

“And what is your point, petal?” he murmurs, his hand cupping her breast through the flimsy cotton that covers it.

“I do not look as I was before. I worry that you will not want me anymore, that you will seek out the comfort of another again…”

Daemon takes a gentle grip of her chin, tilting her face towards him. “There is no one that I desire more than you, sweet wife.”

He grasps her hand, guiding it towards his hardened length. “See what you do to me? Even in that oversized sack you insist upon wearing to bed.”

She giggles, and he captures her lips in a searing kiss, pulling at the lacings that keep her shift fastened as he does.

When she is bared beneath him, his eyes travel over the fullness of her breasts, the tautness of their hardened peaks slightly ruddier than they used to be. Her stomach bears the markings of having carried life, her hips more rounded, plusher than they used to be.

A low growl of approval rumbles in his throat. She is irrevocably marked as his and has never looked more beautiful to him.

He inhales a sharp breath upon finding her wet and wanting when he snakes a hand between her thighs. He wants to spend more time preparing her, but the way his cock aches painfully does not allow for such endeavours this evening. He needs her too badly.

When the tight heat of her walls envelope him, he groans in relief. It is like returning home after a lengthy absence. She sobs with pleasure at his every thrust, his hands vice-like against her waist as she eventually shudders and comes apart around him. He follows her over the edge soon after, white hot pleasure licking at his lower spine as he spills himself deep inside of her.

She is almost asleep against his chest when the piercing wails of Viserys startle them both into wakefulness. Melessa sighs, moving to leave the bed when Daemon places a steadying hand on her shoulder.

“Allow me, petal,” he says, brushing his lips against her temple and rising from the bed.

Viserys cries in his cradle, little handles clenched into fists. The moonlight that streams through the gap in the curtains shines upon what has disturbed his slumber.

The dragon egg that lays beside him—vibrant hues of red and orange that fade into a brilliant shade of green towards the bottom—has begun to crack apart. 

Daemon’s lips part as he watches it. A little dragon for his very own little dragon. 

Perzys se rūkla.

FIN.

[chuluoyi]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐎𝐅 𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐒 !

- 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!

prev. all hail the empress | last. long live the empire

general masterlist | series masterlist

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...

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?

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.

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.

“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."

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."

"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.

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.

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.

“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.”

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?

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.”

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."

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.

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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[canon-in-too-deep]

Fonts: Body Fonts

I had some free time, and I thought, what could be more fun, than putting together a post of some of my thoughts on my favorite fonts? Certainly not going outside or any activity involving moving from my chair, so font talk, here we come! (Links to where to get the fonts for free included in this post). So of course first up we have the majestic Comic Sans..........I kid! <insert baaing goat gif> While it is surely a most iconic font, I will unfortunately not be covering Sir Comic of the Sans in all his glory. See below the break for the full actual post on my favorite fonts to work with.

Note, my interest in fonts is entirely enthusiastically non-professional. Thus, if there's a technical aspect I called 'the tippy bits' instead of tapers or what have you, uh, my amateur ass doth apologizes.

Body Fonts

Body fonts are the all the main parts of a text. The good ol' torso that carries the headers and stands above the footers. They're the font you see the most of and spend the most time with. They're the part of the text that hugs the eyes, to use an entirely weird metaphor. *** My favorite body fonts are the IM FELL series. Especially IM Fell English.

Look at that pretty serif. It's got a great classic appearance to it that reminds me of old paperbacks. There's a grittiness and unevenness to it that gives a more 'natural' look, and is reminiscent of text from a typewriter. The imperfections of this font (like the uneven tippy bits of that lower case y) are my favorite parts, and they add a lot of character to a text while still being legible. I know some folks may not be as fond of the italicized version of IM FELL, but personally I've never had trouble reading it, and enjoy how fancy it looks. IM FELL English is a font that could work as a letter from a gentleman's daughter to the arrogant, handsome heir visiting town, or as the carefully kept diary of a mad scientist detailing the experiment that would eventually rise up and try to kill him. Fun things like that. *** Next font is Crimson Text (there's a Crimson Pro as well, but I like the Text version better for it's fancier capitals).

Just take a look at that w. Sharp enough to cut through digital paper. And the capital W is even better. The angles, the triple Vs...whew, that letter's a work of art! It looks like it should be walking down the runway at a european fashion show and stared down by an unsmiling stone cold magazine editor.

Crimson Text is a very clean, crisp font. It's got those little sharp tippy bits at the end of letters that look like they could prick you if you tried to pick them up. Crimson Text lends itself well to more modern, artistic text. I tend to personally use Crimson Text sparingly, because while it is a very aesthetically pleasing text, it can be a bit harsh for my tastes, and difficult to work with when pairing with other fonts/design elements. Crimson Text is a font that I feel like is for a special occasion, and that occasion is hard to pinpoint, but when it arrives, it makes the most striking appearance. *** Following that, we have EB Garamond, which is probably the second most used font in my personal typesets.

Garamond is a classic. You see it a lot, in one version or another, in published works. For me, it feels very familiar and comforting to read text in EB Garamond. It's like an old, worn blanket that's still perfectly soft and plush. It's the kind of thing that'd get past down generations in the back of a closet, brought out whenever there was a need. Simple, straightforward, and timeless. The only caveat with EB Garamond is the 'e' in it's italicized form is a bit of an exhibitionist that likes to inappropriately protrude it's bottom bits out into it's neighbor. It's a quick fix to teach that 'e' some modesty if you're on Affinity. Just turn off the final forms for the font by going into Text Style Editior -> Variants -> uncheck Final Forms. And now you're prudently dressed for a night of font formatting. *** The last I'm going to talk about in this post is Baskervville. This is, as per the about page on google fonts, a 'revival of Jacob’s revival of Baskerville’s typeface'. I'm not familiar with the original Baskerville, but hey, an extra letter thrown in has to be extra lucky, right?

The thing that really sticks out for me with Baskervville is the 'o's, and the 'o' shape you can see with the 'e's and 'b's and 'd's and such. It's a very...circular, and pronounced font. Round. Rotund. Orbital. There's a flow and balance to this font that stands out, and makes it unique against other fonts on this list. Conversely, the lines of this font as much thinner and sharper than, say, the lines in the Libre Baskerville version. I like that contrast, though it is a bit of a strange one. Like having long stick thin arms and legs and a really round torso. Like one of those mascots for M&Ms (controversial footwear unspecified). Anyway, Baskervville kind of hovers between classic and modern. It's a font you see a lot of (in one version or another) in published works. It's 'family' has been around a long time, and this latest version is like the youngest son of an old, rich, prestigious family. It's got a lot of potential, and can be applied in new, exciting ways, or it can easily fall into a traditional role and live off of it's trust fund. Recently, I used Baskervville for a Pride and Prejudice modern day high school au, and it really felt like the font blended together the two worlds and two time periods well. It's kind of like a hipster that manages to pull off the fedora (a fine hat, I might say. Hats need a bigger comeback, in my opinion). *** That brings us to the end of this post. You'll have noticed that all these fonts were serif fonts. I just like serif fonts best for body fonts. They're the most commonly used in published books, and so they're the ones I've grown most comfortable with. However, a good sans serif can work well in the right setting. For my own work, though, sans serif are usually kept to titles or headers. If there's interest, I'd like to do similar posts on Drop Caps fonts, Title fonts, etc.

[mutfruit-salad]

What are the things you liked about the fallout show

Considering this is a throwaway blog with a suicide joke as the header I get the feeling this isn't being asked in good faith. But I'll indulge, cuz I honestly do wanna share some things I liked.

Max is a character I would've loved to see handled better- it makes me happy seeing him as a main character- and I wish he'd been allowed to shine more. He's a character I find consistently interesting.

Some of the humor IS funny, even if a lot of it reinforces really hostile worldviews. I did laugh often!

The gore effects are honestly really fantastic. I never thought a show would be so ready to depict the kind of gore these games have- so it's interesting to see it adapted to screen.

I love the shopkeeper and her wife in Filly. I also love the repair shop owner with the vocoder cheek. I love a lot of the miscellaneous character designs- they feel like they've got interesting backstories and you can get a feel for it just in how they present themselves and talk.

I love when the NCR raiders on the surface are allowed to be people- and I love the way their designs incorporate bits of fallout 4 and New Vegas armor- it's a cool blending of settings.

I love how weighty the power armor seems in some scenes. There's a lot of variability in how it's portrayed- but there are some scenes where it really looks good.

I love seeing the creatures that got adapted. I love Dogmeat, I love the radroaches, and I love the yao guai. Snip snip is really cool even if I find the episode he's in kind of awful.

Honest to god Norm is really fun even if he's used as a mouthpiece to advocate for the death penalty. His character is consistently charming in his snottiness.

Even Moldaver, as ridiculous as the circumstances that surround her often are, she is genuinely a really compelling villain. I love her vibes, and I'd love to see her in a different better story.

There's a lot of charm here between all the shit! I don't hate this show entirely, as I've said in other posts. Believe it or not I think this is an average show! It's fine! Like I find a lot of the thematic elements and storytelling really disgusting and counter to the themes of this series- but that's just a part of this production. It's obvious there is tremendous passion behind a lot of the show!

I would not talk so much about a show I thought was entirely bad beyond belief. I do not like it, and I think it does a tremendous amount wrong, and I think it's very often misanthropic and mean-spirited to a fault- but it's also often interesting and fun and occasionally quite engaging. It is not an entirely negative experience watching this show!