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[saintobio]

ACT I. THE LADY

amidst the tale of sweetest love and bitterest revenge, the fallen empress is cast back ten years into the past to correct her sins and avoid eternal damnation, even at the price of betraying her once husband, the very cause of her downfall.

♱ pairings. gojo satoru, fem!reader

♱ genre. enemies-to-lovers, period piece, medieval au

♱ tags. ooc, regression, crown prince!gojo, noble lady!reader, politics, classism, clan wars, religion (catholicism), slight mentions of gore

♱ notes. 6.5k wc, unedited. again, for anyone who missed my small announcement, the ‘juliet’ from my megumi r+j fic has a name here for narration purposes. she remains as you or yn in the original fic tho :) feedback would be highly appreciated!

series masterlist ♱ act two.

“I humbly beg your pardon, Your Imperial Highness. The lady declines any audience at this time.”

Throughout his princely life, Satoru had never before faced rejection from any of his subjects, let alone one of his own citizens. No one ever dared to deny the Crown Prince as they were aware of the consequences of offending a member of the imperial family, let alone the future Emperor of Caelum. 

So, how could this mere daughter of a duke summon the courage to refuse his audience? 

It was baffling to him. Were you not the one who had written him a lovestruck letter requesting a meeting? As one of the eligible brides for the Crown Prince and a strong contender for the position of Crown Princess, it was only natural for you to vie for his affection and secure your spot on the imperial throne. You had it all; the status, the power, the wit. You had quite the face, too. This would have been an opportune moment for you to ensnare his favor and win him over. Yet, what reason could you possibly have now to suddenly decline his audience?

“On what grounds did she refuse?” Satoru maintained a stern demeanor as he stood beside his white horse, scrutinizing the servant from the De Roma estate who trembled before the prince. His blue velvet cloak and imperial insignia added to the overall intimidation of his presence. 

The maid, mindful of the perils that may befall her for the actions of her master, spake with evident apprehension. “The lady offered no explanation, Your Highness. She simply wishes to remain in her chamber.”

Needless to say, he felt a mixture of amusement and intrigue at this situation. The same noble lady who had previously been forward in her advances and infatuation towards him was now avoiding an opportunity to get acquainted? And to think, he had believed he was doing you a favor by granting you a chance to spend time with him this noontide. 

“Very well.” The prince gazed down at the servant with a stern expression, raking his slender fingers through his arctic white hair before mounting his war horse. “Remind the lady that there are consequences for denying the rights of the imperial family. Each slight she casts is an arrow to her neck. Let her know that there shall not be another chance such as this.”

He sensed the maid’s fear after she offered him a curtsy, yet he could not fathom how she remained steadfast in her refusal to grant him access to your drawing room despite his clearly spoken warning. She was guarding the entrance to the estate as though she would face greater consequences for letting the crown prince in than for keeping him out. Were you truly so stringent in maintaining your distance from him?

So be it. If that was your game, then let it be played. In fact, you might be trying to seem hard-to-get after the stunts you had pulled at the hunting expedition two weeks hence. If his memory served him right, you were the one who sabotaged Lady Anastasia’s crossbow and led her in her near-fatal experience. You see, you might have gotten away with it, but Satoru was a witness to your deliberate crime. He had seen you tampering with Lady Anastasia’s weapon, replacing her regular bolts with ones laced with fast-acting poison, which left the poor lady paralyzed in the middle of a dangerous hunt. Had it not been for Satoru, Lady de Florentine would have likely been mauled by a wild boar. 

Yet, his intervention only seemed to stoke your ire even more. Your jealousy after seeing him save Anastasia’s life only made you see red, almost revealing yourself the true perpetrator for the obvious expressions you had displayed. Still, he chose to remain silent about your malicious actions, pretending to be oblivious to your cunning ways and dismissing any suspicions of foul play in the incident. In a way, Satoru had saved your life more than you realized. Not only that, he had also safeguarded your reputation and standing in high society without your knowledge, as he understood that your animosity towards Lady Anastasia only stemmed from the way he had interacted with her, speaking in close proximity and kissing her hand prior to the hunting game.  

Ha! What a devious little viper you were. What a brazenly proud woman. By declining to meet the Crown Prince, you had only ironically succeeded in piquing his interest even more.  

“Is everything in order, Your Highness?” It was his close friend and personal knight, Suguru, who snapped him out of his reverie as they rode their horses back toward the capital. Three more of the prince’s knights trailed behind them. Suguru’s question hinted at concern for the prince’s sanity, given that he had been observed laughing to himself despite the insult he had faced just half an hour ago.

“It is rather amusing, is it not?” Satoru pondered, his hands firmly gripping the reins as he guided his horse along the uneven path. “Lady Y/N might seem out of her wits, but she is astute. I see through her tactics. She obviously desires my attention, which is why she is behaving this way.”

The long-haired knight chuckled with unease. “I fear that may not be her intention.”

The notion appeared absurd to him. “Not her intention? Grant her but a moment, and she shall trail after me once more like a shadow. This is a blessing, if anything. I am now spared the need to endure that lady’s temperament during formal events.”

Did you realize? Despite numerous instances where Satoru overlooked your transgressions, if you were to provoke his ire, he could surely publicly enumerate each offense. The stained dress incident involving Lady Serena? Your handiwork. The scandalous rumors regarding Lady Franchetta? Also your doing. Not to mention your mistreatment of maids and commoners out of mere boredom. Your actions would have easily rendered you an unsuitable candidate as the Crown Prince’s bride, yet he remained silent and never reported such occurrences to his father, the emperor. More than that, he should be relieved that you had chosen to avoid him and spared him further entanglements with you.

However, Satoru’s words contradicted his own sentiments, and he refused to acknowledge his hypocrisy. Although he claimed satisfaction with your decision to keep your distance, why did thoughts of you arise foremost when he passed by a jewel shop that showcased its newest collections? He and his men were traversing the city square when his sky blue eyes caught sight of a necklace with a large, deep-red garnet as its centerpiece, surrounded by intricate gold filigrees, and a single teardrop-shaped pearl dangling at the bottom. The overall design was bold and commanding, yet undeniably elegant. A befitting accessory for Caelum’s next crown princess.

“Would you care to inspect the jewel shop, my lord?” proposed one of his knights. “That necklace could serve as a splendid gift for Lady Serena, who is soon to celebrate her birthday banquet.”

The prince saw his reflection in the shop’s window, his white steed poised gracefully while he gazed at the jewelry on display. A smirk unanticipatedly graced his lips as he envisioned a particular scenario in his head. “Indeed.” 

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Milena was cinching your corset when your father abruptly entered your chamber, his visage bearing a questioning mien as his footsteps loudened each second. You already anticipated the nature of his visit, for nothing else would prompt such urgency unless it pertained to your reputation. In retrospect, you remembered him having knowledge of your misdeeds against the other debutantes currying favor with the crown prince, and he was well aware of the details of your crafty schemes and all the deliberate sabotage you had orchestrated. And although your father often covered for you out of paternal pride, he still chastised you for your actions in private. The latter assuredly was the purpose of his visit now.

Well, dear father, your daughter is no longer the same. 

“Maid,” commanded the duke, “Leave us for a while.” 

Milena immediately bowed at your father. “Yes, Your Grace—”

“No, Milena. You will not take a single step out of this chamber.” Your order somehow surprised the both of them as though you had never sounded so authoritative before, like you had the imperial power and position to be issuing commands greater than your father’s. Ah, right. You were not an empress anymore. Or yet. None of these people were your subjects, and living in the past would really take some time getting used to. In an effort to conceal your years of imperial presence, you looked at your father with a gaze that suggested naivety. “What is the matter, father?”

Duke de Roma appeared visibly strained by his youngest child. “Y/N, is it true that you declined a visit from Crown Prince Satoru?”

You felt the urge to scoff, but opted against it. “Rejection is an understatement, Your Grace. My interest in His Highness has simply waned.” 

“So soon?” The elderly man was perplexed by your assertion, considering your reputation as a notorious obsessive lover of the prince. You were perceived by all as the erratic woman who would engage in conflict with any rival who dared to court his affections. “What sudden change prompts you to speak ill of him? Were you not striving to win his favor?"

Yes, but that was before. That was the version of yourself who sacrificed everything for someone incapable of reciprocating the love you sought. Things have altered now, and you recognized it was wiser not to pursue Satoru after knowing and personally experiencing the peril it posed to both yourself and the empire. He would only seek to exploit your family’s military influence to stage a coup against his parents, beguile you with his false affections, and make use of you until you were no longer serving him any purpose. You refused to be complicit in his ambitions any longer. Not in this life, no. 

“Rather,” you began with a voice of confidence, “I would choose being in a convent than to wed a man like His Highness.” 

Your father nearly fainted from your words. “By Saint Peter’s keys! I cannot understand the youth of today. Tell me, is there another suitor who has captured your interest? Have you found another man more noble than a prince?” 

With a smile, you looked at yourself in the mirror and prepared for the day ahead. “No, Father. On the contrary, I seek a life of solitude. If I could remain unwed for the entirety of my days, I would gladly embrace it.” 

This, you believed, was the surest way to distance yourself from trouble and seek redemption for your past transgressions. A life without Crown Prince Satoru was the road to attaining highest virtue. Your love for him was the reason you had committed such sins in the past, so the best thing to do in this life was to steer yourself clear from his path at all cost. Otherwise, the thought of facing the piercing gaze of Archangel Raphael again was too daunting to bear.

“What folly is this?” Duke de Roma questioned your words incredulously. “Did you not aspire to become the most powerful lady in the empire? Pursuing the Crown Prince is the path to becoming an empress. Cease this nonsensical talk and continue your efforts to win his favor!”

Once he departed, you were left alone in your chamber, feeling a mixture of relief and frustration. You were tempted to let out a groan of exasperation, but with Milena present, you had to maintain your composure. It was crucial for her to witness your changed mindset. Gone was the vicious lady she had served in her previous life. Though you could not offer a direct apology for the role you played in her demise before, you were determined to ensure her comfort and well-being in this new life.

As for your father, you were uncertain what to do with him yet. He was coming from a place of concern, knowing that your decision to enter a convent would ultimately make his investments futile. He had invested heavily in your upbringing, providing you with every luxury, the finest education, and the resources necessary to secure a prominent place in high society. His aspirations for you to become an empress were not solely driven by paternal pride, but also by the anticipation of reaping the rewards of his investment. Losing such an asset would undoubtedly be a significant blow to his plans and ambitions. Yet, he had no single idea what suffering you had actually endured in your past life after becoming Satoru’s wife for 10 agonizing years. 

Well, in that case, you had an alternative plan—one that promised to secure the De Roma family’s status and elevate its wealth to unreachable heights without necessitating your ascent to the imperial throne.

“Milena,” you said, walking towards your window, “Prepare the carriage. We have somewhere to be.” 

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“Fifty celestas?!” Milena questioned in disbelief, her hooded cloak framing her face as she confronted the artist before you. Today, both of you dressed down, adopting a guise that would allow you to blend seamlessly with the throng of commoners in the outskirts of the capital. “Signor, are you not asking for an exorbitant sum? You are exploiting My Lady merely because she is the daughter of Duke de Roma.”

It was a mistake bringing Milena with you, but it also served as a good signifier that the artist, Giancarlo di Firenze, was still operating in an era where his talent and skill as a sculptor had yet to be recognized. In the eyes of others, he was a struggling artist whose work warranted no more than a few trinkets. However, you possessed the advantage of foresight, bestowed upon you by your gift of clairvoyance (or in layman’s terms, a cheat sheet into the future due to your regression). You knew that Maestro Giancarlo’s sculptures would eventually gain widespread acclaim, particularly after they were displayed at the Veneran Museum, and he would be the most sought after artist in the continent with pieces worth thousands. Even your then-husband, the emperor himself, commissioned him for the notable Star Crossed Lovers sculpture for the ten year death anniversary of the prince and princess of the Astheryn and Caelum Empires. The 50 celestas Signor Giancarlo demanded now paled in comparison to the immense resale value his works would command in a decade’s time. This would be one of your best investments as a mere lady with no imperial wealth. 

“Fifty celestas for this Apollo and Daphne sculpture seems a fair price,” you mused, scrutinizing each exquisite detail of the remarkable artwork. The sculpture was truly a masterpiece and very much deserving of admiration, which was why in your past life, it was highly coveted by The Venera for its sheer magnificence. However, you refrained from showering the Signor with excessive praise. To do so would only awaken him to the true value of his creations, and he could potentially inflate his prices beyond your budget. Thus, you maintained an air of indifference as you regarded the middle-aged sculptor. “It would make a suitable addition to our garden,” you casually added. “I shall purchase it.”

“My Lady!” protested Milena, but you silenced her with a gesture.

“In addition, I would like to acquire the Ecstasy of Saint Teresa and a selection of your cherubic sculptures,” you continued, disregarding Milena’s objections and the delighted expression on Maestro Giancarlo's face. “Pray, how much would the entire collection amount to?”

It was as if he had stumbled upon a treasure trove. The Signor’s eyes glistened with tears of joy as he responded to you. “Lady de Roma! What a blessing you have bestowed upon me,” he exclaimed, leaving you sympathetic towards his years of unacknowledged artistry. “The collection would fetch two-hundred celestas.”

Your maid, filled with concern, cried out in protest. “Preposterous! This is a swindle!”

Again, 200 celestas was a trifling sum compared to its prospective worth. Moreover, it was a price that would not significantly dent your finances as a noble lady. However, if you acquiesced to his initial offer without negotiation, he might infer that you would readily purchase any of his other works at its highest prices.

It was a simple game of chess, and he was merely one of your pawns.

“A hundred and fifty celestas,” you countered, maintaining a steely gaze on Maestro Giancarlo as you made your bargain. “Take it or leave it.”

The man voiced his objection, nonetheless. “But My Lady, I have dedicated weeks to crafting each piece.”

Being ten steps ahead, you already anticipated his response, so you offered a compromise. “Yes, yet two hundred for a handful of pieces seems excessive. I will increase it to a hundred and seventy-five. Do we have an accord?”

“But—”

“Two hundred celestas,” you declared firmly, “on the condition that you add a few more cherubim to my collection.”

In the end, he agreed to your offer with an air of triumph as if he had hit the jackpot. He penned your receipt with a sense of satisfaction, believing he had outwitted you with his inflated price when, unbeknownst to him, he had just sold pieces worth roughly two-hundred thousand celestas. The clear winner in this exchange was you, though you kept that fact strictly concealed. Your strategy to amass personal wealth would remain a secret to all, even if Milena thought you had lost your mind paying such a sum for the work of a struggling artist.

And you did not plan to stop there. Your next task was to visit Pietro De Luca, a renowned painter from your past life who had risen to prominence during your time as empress. Like the sculptor, this man was yet to achieve fame during the future period of artistic renaissance. He was the one who painted you and your husband’s infamous portrait at the palace. Unfortunately, though, luck was not on your side when you visited the painter that day, as the man had apparently journeyed to Constantia and would not return for another fortnight.

Ah, well. There would always be another opportunity.

“My Lady,” spoke Milena, standing beside you as your father’s men loaded the sculptures into the spare carriage. “I never imagined the day would come when you would take an interest in sculptures. When did you develop an eye for art?”

To tell her the truth, you cared little for its artistic merit. Your sole concern was its value and the wealth it would bring you in a decade’s time. You could never reveal that fact to Milena, so you offered an excuse instead. “They make for lovely decorations, do they not? They would certainly add to the opulence of the estate.”

Your sentence was abruptly interrupted as a pair of playing children collided with you, causing your hood to slip down and reveal your face. The mother of the children, instead of offering an apology, was too stunned to realize that you were a noblewoman from the capital. They were clearly of lower status than commoners; they were beggars, clad in tattered garments and bearing grimy faces. Your heart twinged with pity, especially upon seeing the mother cradling a baby in her arms.

A poor infant. Almost instinctively, your hand flew to your belly as memories flooded your mind of the baby you nearly had in your past life. It was Satoru’s child, the future emperor of the empire, the sole heir to the imperial Gojou lineage. Yet, he refused to acknowledge it as his own. What would have happened to your child if he had lived? The bittersweet recollection clenched at your gut. 

“Please, my lady,” pleaded the impoverished woman, “Any food or clothing would be a blessing.”

To think of it, in your past life, you realized that the commoners harbored resentment towards you for your extravagant lifestyle. None of the luxuries you enjoyed as empress were shared with the masses of the Caelum Empire. They remained trapped in poverty while you reveled in comfort, completely disconnected from their reality. It was no wonder you had incurred the wrath of Goddess Fortuna and Archangel Raphael.

And now, overwhelmed by compassion, you motioned for Milena to offer 50 celestas to the woman, who graciously accepted your gift. The sum would suffice for six months' worth of food supplies. Though you wished you could give more, your wealth was not infinite as the daughter of a duke. Nevertheless, it was the gesture that mattered, was it not?

As you and Milena continued to stroll through the plaza, you could sense the incredulous glances she would cast your way. It must have been strange for her to witness your kindness towards commoners, let alone your act of charity by giving away months worth of allowance to strangers.

“Is it the tea I served you the other morning, my lady?” she inquired, concerned. “You seem to be behaving differently, as if you have transformed into a completely different person.”

In your previous life, Milena’s straightforward comments would have resulted in punishment from you. However, in this timeline, you merely chuckled with her. “Life’s too fleeting to be evil all the time.”

Like an eager puppy, she nodded enthusiastically. “Indeed, my lady. Indeed! It brings me joy to see you embracing life in a different manner.”

If only she knew the hardships you had endured in the past, molding you into someone who viewed the world through a different lens in this present time. She would have been glad to see you become an empress, but she would be horrified to know the amount of souls that died by your hands alone. 

You were lost in contemplation throughout the afternoon, and you wandered aimlessly around the city, immersing yourself fully in the lives of the common folk until dusk began to descend. Just as you were about to make your way back to your carriage, a larger one passed by, adorned in white and blue with the imperial insignia proudly displayed.

Today heralded the return of Princess Savina from The Providence. She was the sister of Crown Prince Satoru and the infamous Caelum princess who had tragically perished alongside her lover, Prince Megumi of Astheryn.

Her tragic demise was also the beginning of Satoru’s descent to tyranny. 

That could only mean one thing: the true story was just about to unfold. 

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You felt unsettled. 

Princess Savina’s return marked not only a significant turning point, but also served as a stark reminder of the events that had unfolded in your previous life. Her tragic death had set off a chain reaction of calamities. After her illicit romance with an Astherean prince was exposed, a devastating war broke out and claimed the deaths of innocent citizens. Shortly after, the prince and princess' dead bodies were discovered in the Sistine Chapel. While the conflict might have concluded with an armistice, it was also the catalyst for Satoru’s path to seizing the throne with your helping hand. It was this very moment that laid the groundwork for Satoru's eventual usurpation of the throne. 

Soon after, Satoru’s ascension to power would be imminent, with you standing by his side as his chosen empress. He would eliminate every traitor you had identified, while you exacted vengeance upon those who had wronged you prior to your rise to an imperial status. Yet, despite your unwavering loyalty and dedication, Satoru never truly trusted or loved you as his wife, ultimately leading to his betrayal in the end.

How could you stand still and watch history repeat itself? 

You had to have a plan. You had to devise a scheme wise enough to change the course of your life. And perhaps, befriending Savina might be the key. She might have a chance to live if her affair with the Astherean prince remained undiscovered, averting the tragic chain of events that led to her demise. That way, Satoru would not harbor the desperation to usurp his parents. He would not ask you to orchestrate a coup, and make you his pathetic empress in return. In this life, you resolved to be repulsive enough in Satoru's eyes that he would be utterly disinterested in you, even if you were the last person on Earth. 

The plan seemed logical, yet simultaneously absurd. In your past life, you had strived with all your might to become Satoru's wife, yet now, you were doing everything in your power to avoid such a fate. Is this naught but a cruel game? You could not suppress a wry chuckle as you stared at your reflection in the mirror, the bright moonlight casting an illuminated glow upon you. It was enchanting yet horrifying at the same time to see a faint scar encircling your neck, a grim mark that reminded you of your previous fate as a beheaded empress. You were still uncertain whether you were the only one who could see the scar, but Milena had never seemed to notice it during your bathing rituals. Perhaps the scar would only manifest as a visible reminder of sin, and would fade with virtuous deeds. Your recent act of generosity towards the beggar, however, seemed to carry no weight in mitigating your previous unethical dealings with Maestro Giancarlo. It appeared that genuine acts of kindness were only truly rewarded when performed with sincerity, while any hint of selfishness nullified their positive effects.

You acknowledged that virtuousness was not inherently ingrained within you. While avoiding marriage to Satoru was your primary objective, the prospect of a life dedicated to serving the common people was not your desired path. As long as you refrained from inflicting suffering upon others, you saw no necessity in accumulating merits through good deeds. After all, your sole task, as directed by Archangel Raphael, was to atone for your sins, not to become a paragon of virtue. You were no saint. 

Three days had quickly passed since that night, and this day held a special occasion that had your heart pumping heavily the morning you woke up. Today, as accurate as your previous life, was the day of The Mass of Annunciation—a holy Catholic mass to celebrate when Archangel Gabriel appeared to the Virgin Mary and announced to her that she would conceive and give birth to the son of God, Jesus. 

The grandeur of the event was undeniable, and attendance was obligatory for all noble families of Caelum, given the devout nature of the empire’s populace. Moreover, the presence of the imperial Gojou family ensured the importance of the occasion. Yet, for you, stepping into Saint Peter's Basilica once more stirred nerves as memories flooded back from your time as an empress. Now, as a 20-year-old daughter of a duke, you entered the basilica beside your brother, Aristide, whose pompous demeanor drew the gaze of all noble ladies present. After all, he was the empire’s second most eligible bachelor after Satoru himself. In your first life, your brother had wed Lady Serena, and your relationship had soured when you declared him a traitor and accused him of treachery against your then-husband. Although Satoru had spared his life, he had decreed Aristide’s eventual exile, wary of the threat posed by a brother-in-law with ambitions for the throne.

The stark contrast between your current standing and your former eminence as an empress was palpable as you made your first public appearance in high society since your regression. No longer did heads turn and knees bend at the sight of you. Instead, you were regarded as a mere noblewoman, approaching the age where marriage prospects dwindled, and whispered rumors branded you as a woman with an unsavory fixation on the crown prince. It was a humbling experience, to say the least, and a reminder of the depths to which your reputation had fallen.

Despite no longer holding the title of empress, you spared no effort in your attire. You carried yourself with the same regal air, a testament to your upbringing and the lavish lifestyle afforded by your father. Your family not only produced the bravest knights, but also supported a prosperous weaponry business, which reflected your ostentatious way of life. That was why you had the means to wear a sumptuous gown of rich burgundy brocade, intricately woven with gold thread and adorned with delicate floral embroidery. You made certain that the modest neckline gracefully covered your neck to hide your revolting scar, while layers of sheer chiffon formed a voluminous skirt that cascades to your feet. Your hair was secured in a crespine, a delicate net-like veil adorned with lustrous pearls and sparkling gemstones, while around your neck hung a simple yet elegant silver cross pendant to add a touch of reverence.

In your eyes, you considered yourself a modest and conservative lady who was hesitant to reveal too much skin. However, your brother found it laughable, jesting that you might as well become a nun given how covered your chest and neckline were. He remarked that it was unusual for you to dress in such a reserved manner, as you had previously taken the initiative to wear attire that would attract Satoru’s manly gaze.

“Announcing the arrival of His and Her Imperial Highness, followed by His and Her Imperial Majesties—the luminaries of our empire.”  

As the imperial family arrived at the basilica, a hushed anticipation suddenly fell over the gathered crowd. The air was filled with a palpable sense of reverence and awe as the imposing façade of the basilica welcomed the presence of the empire’s highest authority.

First to enter were Princess Savina and Crown Prince Satoru, the heir and heiress to the throne, their regal presence commanding attention as they made their way down the grand procession. Princess Savina was resplendent in a gown of shimmering silk and a coronet as her headdress, while there he came… Your then-husband. Your ex-lover. Your betrayer. Crown Prince Satoru, clad in a tailored doublet of rich blue velvet, projecting an air of quiet strength and authority as he stared straight ahead towards the altar like he did in your past life. You had almost forgotten how princely handsome he was when he was younger, and you could not stop your frenzied heart as you felt somersaults in your stomach. No, you must not! It was all in the mind. It was all a matter of mind games, and this might be the first time you had seen Satoru again in real life after your regression, but he was still a man who had ordered to kill you. You should never be fooled by his luscious white hair and sky blue eyes. 

“In love?” whispered your brother, a smirk visible on his face. 

“Out of love,” you corrected and remained resolute in your goal not to get swayed by Satoru’s charm again. “I feel not a single thing.” 

Aristide scoffed at that. “Yet your eyes shine at the sight of him?” 

As the imperial siblings took their places at the head of the procession, the assembled congregation bowed their heads in deference as the imperial family proceeded to their seats and their every movement watched with rapt attention by the gathered nobility. Following closely behind were the Emperor and Empress, the reigning monarchs of the empire, their presence heralded by the sound of trumpets and the swell of sacred music.

You chose not to bicker with your brother throughout the holy mass, although there were times you were tempted to cuss him out. He seemed to be thoroughly enjoying himself, ridiculing your attire and insisting that Satoru would never pay you any attention. He took great pleasure in reminding you of the prince’s supposed revulsion towards your obsession, when little did your foolish brother know, you would be glad if that was in fact true. 

And the ironic thing was, in your previous life, you had done Aristide a great favor by marrying Satoru. This freed up Lady Serena for marriage, despite her supposed status as the crown prince’s favorite. You used to despise Serena out of sheer jealousy, while Aristide had always desired her, which was why your brother had urged you to win Satoru's affections to pave the way for him to marry the lady he so coveted.

In this life, you decided not to interfere in any potential relationship between Satoru and Serena, regardless of your brother’s wishes. You acknowledged that Serena would make a far superior empress than yourself, as she possessed enough empathy in her to prioritize the welfare of her people and avoid endangering them. She was not the type of person who would willingly bring about the destruction of an entire nation, nor would she welcome the spread of plague out of mere vengeance against her husband. 

With Satoru out of your plans, Savina then came into the picture. You had to speak and get close to her—close enough for her to trust you and befriend you, but not attached enough for you to act like her older sister. You would only be here to guide her and avoid her from the path of her downfall in order to save yourself. Savina was the key. 

Savina… Savina would be the one to save you in this life. Savina was your only hope. 

As the mass concluded, some of the nobles began to disperse, while others congregated in a corner to converse with the Archbishop. Your sole intention at that moment was to approach Savina, allowing your feet to lead you to the direction of where she was. But just before you reached her, you stumbled upon a very significant individual who had played a pivotal role in bringing about your suffering in your previous life.

It was none other than Satoru’s advisor, Lord Maximillian. 

“Lady Y/N, it is a delight to see you,” the man greeted, but you could see right through him. He never liked you now and in the past. In fact, his hatred stemmed from his peculiar fixation towards the imperial family. He may look younger presently, but he was still an old and rotten base-born cur. 

Maximilian was the one responsible for introducing Satoru to the prophecy, and he was also the individual who whispered your demise into your husband's ears. Given his role in your past suffering, why should you afford him any respect?

“It is rather surprising you had not burned inside the church,” you remarked acerbically, eliciting widened eyes from the nobleman. “Yet it does beg the question, Lord Maximilian, what brings a heretic like yourself inside a Catholic church?”

Within the confines of the basilica, or at least the space surrounding you, a variety of reactions unfolded. A noble lady shot you a disapproving stare for your perceived rudeness towards a man of higher nobility, while your brother regarded you with a mixture of astonishment and concern as if you had gone mad. Conversely, a young nobleman appeared impressed by your audacity.

As for Maximilian, it was rather amusing to observe the crimson hue that spread across his face. You anticipated his retort and braced yourself for his comeback. “Why, you foul-mouthed wench!” he exclaimed, his voice laden with indignation. “Who do you think you are speaking to?!”

You grinned triumphantly at your success in offending him. “You should be ashamed to show yourself in front of God—" you began, relishing the opportunity to further provoke him, but was cut short when a formidable presence appeared before you. 

The arctic white hair, the crystal blue eyes, the smooth ivory skin, the towering build from years of training… 

“Your Highness,” Maximilian immediately curtsied before the prince, while you remained frozen in place. Like a statue. “Your Highness, this young lady is preposterous!” 

On one hand, Satoru’s eyes bathed in humor as he observed the interaction between you and Maximilian. This was the first time you two had faced each other since the regression, and the emotions stirred within you were still raw. You were husband and wife when you last saw each other. You could still remember the last time you saw him the night before your execution, when he visited you in the West Tower and asked you to live a solitary life in the countryside as his mistress. Your heart seemed to constrict in your chest, yet simultaneously, it pounded loudly with anticipation. 

“Max, it seems the lady has labeled you a heretic,” the Crown Prince remarked, his gaze unwavering as he focused on you. “Can you substantiate your accusations, Lady Y/N?” he inquired, prompting you to defend your claims.

Satoru, you fool. If you were to reveal what happened in your previous life, he would be an accomplice to the crime. He carried the highest position in the empire at the time, yet he was a supporter of heresy himself. That alone would have brought him into Inquisition. 

You could not think straight. Oh for heaven’s sake! You could not focus. Could not breathe. Could not speak. Your thoughts were flooded by memories of your past life; of Satoru claiming you were useless for being barren, of him refusing to acknowledge your child, of him planning to wed another woman after the years you had devoted to him, of him ruthlessly ordering your execution. 

Of him never saying he loved you. 

Before you realized it, tears welled up in your eyes. You were utterly unprepared to encounter him today, let alone engage in conversation, especially while the wounds from your past were still so raw. Some wounds had yet to heal, and the mere sight of him brought them flooding back.

And with your unexpected reaction, his expression softened and morphed into one of genuine concern. Why? Why was he suddenly concerned now when he spent years of being an ungrateful husband? His smile had long vanished, replaced by a look of worry after seeing you on the verge of breaking down. However, before the tears could spill, you turned and fled, unable to bear the thought of crying in front of a man like him.

“Hold still, Lady Y/N—!”

His voice called out to you, but you refused to look back. No, you were determined to only keep moving forward, to distance yourself from the man who had caused you so much pain. Therefore, you hastily fled the basilica, seeking solace amidst the throng of nobles who were crowding outside. 

As you ran, tears streamed down your face unchecked, yet you let it be. The ache in your heart was unbearable, knowing that the man you had once loved so deeply now had the power to hurt you all over again. Only when you found a secluded spot beneath a stone pine tree did you collapse, clutching your chest as you recalled the face of the man who had caused you so much anguish.

I despise you, Satoru. 

“How could you betray me like that?” you murmured, tears staining your cheeks as you sobbed beneath the tree, feeling utterly pathetic.

Suddenly, a shadow fell over you, and as you looked up, you saw a man with dark hair clad in shining armor. His smile was gentle as he approached and crouched down beside you.

“My lady.” It was the Knight Commander, Yuuta, offering you his handkerchief. “Is everything alright?”

[saintobio]

ACT I. THE LADY

amidst the tale of sweetest love and bitterest revenge, the fallen empress is cast back ten years into the past to correct her sins and avoid eternal damnation, even at the price of betraying her once husband, the very cause of her downfall.

♱ pairings. gojo satoru, fem!reader

♱ genre. enemies-to-lovers, period piece, medieval au

♱ tags. ooc, regression, crown prince!gojo, noble lady!reader, politics, classism, clan wars, religion (catholicism), slight mentions of gore

♱ notes. 6.5k wc, unedited. again, for anyone who missed my small announcement, the ‘juliet’ from my megumi r+j fic has a name here for narration purposes. she remains as you or yn in the original fic tho :) feedback would be highly appreciated!

series masterlist ♱ act two.

“I humbly beg your pardon, Your Imperial Highness. The lady declines any audience at this time.”

Throughout his princely life, Satoru had never before faced rejection from any of his subjects, let alone one of his own citizens. No one ever dared to deny the Crown Prince as they were aware of the consequences of offending a member of the imperial family, let alone the future Emperor of Caelum. 

So, how could this mere daughter of a duke summon the courage to refuse his audience? 

It was baffling to him. Were you not the one who had written him a lovestruck letter requesting a meeting? As one of the eligible brides for the Crown Prince and a strong contender for the position of Crown Princess, it was only natural for you to vie for his affection and secure your spot on the imperial throne. You had it all; the status, the power, the wit. You had quite the face, too. This would have been an opportune moment for you to ensnare his favor and win him over. Yet, what reason could you possibly have now to suddenly decline his audience?

“On what grounds did she refuse?” Satoru maintained a stern demeanor as he stood beside his white horse, scrutinizing the servant from the De Roma estate who trembled before the prince. His blue velvet cloak and imperial insignia added to the overall intimidation of his presence. 

The maid, mindful of the perils that may befall her for the actions of her master, spake with evident apprehension. “The lady offered no explanation, Your Highness. She simply wishes to remain in her chamber.”

Needless to say, he felt a mixture of amusement and intrigue at this situation. The same noble lady who had previously been forward in her advances and infatuation towards him was now avoiding an opportunity to get acquainted? And to think, he had believed he was doing you a favor by granting you a chance to spend time with him this noontide. 

“Very well.” The prince gazed down at the servant with a stern expression, raking his slender fingers through his arctic white hair before mounting his war horse. “Remind the lady that there are consequences for denying the rights of the imperial family. Each slight she casts is an arrow to her neck. Let her know that there shall not be another chance such as this.”

He sensed the maid’s fear after she offered him a curtsy, yet he could not fathom how she remained steadfast in her refusal to grant him access to your drawing room despite his clearly spoken warning. She was guarding the entrance to the estate as though she would face greater consequences for letting the crown prince in than for keeping him out. Were you truly so stringent in maintaining your distance from him?

So be it. If that was your game, then let it be played. In fact, you might be trying to seem hard-to-get after the stunts you had pulled at the hunting expedition two weeks hence. If his memory served him right, you were the one who sabotaged Lady Anastasia’s crossbow and led her in her near-fatal experience. You see, you might have gotten away with it, but Satoru was a witness to your deliberate crime. He had seen you tampering with Lady Anastasia’s weapon, replacing her regular bolts with ones laced with fast-acting poison, which left the poor lady paralyzed in the middle of a dangerous hunt. Had it not been for Satoru, Lady de Florentine would have likely been mauled by a wild boar. 

Yet, his intervention only seemed to stoke your ire even more. Your jealousy after seeing him save Anastasia’s life only made you see red, almost revealing yourself the true perpetrator for the obvious expressions you had displayed. Still, he chose to remain silent about your malicious actions, pretending to be oblivious to your cunning ways and dismissing any suspicions of foul play in the incident. In a way, Satoru had saved your life more than you realized. Not only that, he had also safeguarded your reputation and standing in high society without your knowledge, as he understood that your animosity towards Lady Anastasia only stemmed from the way he had interacted with her, speaking in close proximity and kissing her hand prior to the hunting game.  

Ha! What a devious little viper you were. What a brazenly proud woman. By declining to meet the Crown Prince, you had only ironically succeeded in piquing his interest even more.  

“Is everything in order, Your Highness?” It was his close friend and personal knight, Suguru, who snapped him out of his reverie as they rode their horses back toward the capital. Three more of the prince’s knights trailed behind them. Suguru’s question hinted at concern for the prince’s sanity, given that he had been observed laughing to himself despite the insult he had faced just half an hour ago.

“It is rather amusing, is it not?” Satoru pondered, his hands firmly gripping the reins as he guided his horse along the uneven path. “Lady Y/N might seem out of her wits, but she is astute. I see through her tactics. She obviously desires my attention, which is why she is behaving this way.”

The long-haired knight chuckled with unease. “I fear that may not be her intention.”

The notion appeared absurd to him. “Not her intention? Grant her but a moment, and she shall trail after me once more like a shadow. This is a blessing, if anything. I am now spared the need to endure that lady’s temperament during formal events.”

Did you realize? Despite numerous instances where Satoru overlooked your transgressions, if you were to provoke his ire, he could surely publicly enumerate each offense. The stained dress incident involving Lady Serena? Your handiwork. The scandalous rumors regarding Lady Franchetta? Also your doing. Not to mention your mistreatment of maids and commoners out of mere boredom. Your actions would have easily rendered you an unsuitable candidate as the Crown Prince’s bride, yet he remained silent and never reported such occurrences to his father, the emperor. More than that, he should be relieved that you had chosen to avoid him and spared him further entanglements with you.

However, Satoru’s words contradicted his own sentiments, and he refused to acknowledge his hypocrisy. Although he claimed satisfaction with your decision to keep your distance, why did thoughts of you arise foremost when he passed by a jewel shop that showcased its newest collections? He and his men were traversing the city square when his sky blue eyes caught sight of a necklace with a large, deep-red garnet as its centerpiece, surrounded by intricate gold filigrees, and a single teardrop-shaped pearl dangling at the bottom. The overall design was bold and commanding, yet undeniably elegant. A befitting accessory for Caelum’s next crown princess.

“Would you care to inspect the jewel shop, my lord?” proposed one of his knights. “That necklace could serve as a splendid gift for Lady Serena, who is soon to celebrate her birthday banquet.”

The prince saw his reflection in the shop’s window, his white steed poised gracefully while he gazed at the jewelry on display. A smirk unanticipatedly graced his lips as he envisioned a particular scenario in his head. “Indeed.” 

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Milena was cinching your corset when your father abruptly entered your chamber, his visage bearing a questioning mien as his footsteps loudened each second. You already anticipated the nature of his visit, for nothing else would prompt such urgency unless it pertained to your reputation. In retrospect, you remembered him having knowledge of your misdeeds against the other debutantes currying favor with the crown prince, and he was well aware of the details of your crafty schemes and all the deliberate sabotage you had orchestrated. And although your father often covered for you out of paternal pride, he still chastised you for your actions in private. The latter assuredly was the purpose of his visit now.

Well, dear father, your daughter is no longer the same. 

“Maid,” commanded the duke, “Leave us for a while.” 

Milena immediately bowed at your father. “Yes, Your Grace—”

“No, Milena. You will not take a single step out of this chamber.” Your order somehow surprised the both of them as though you had never sounded so authoritative before, like you had the imperial power and position to be issuing commands greater than your father’s. Ah, right. You were not an empress anymore. Or yet. None of these people were your subjects, and living in the past would really take some time getting used to. In an effort to conceal your years of imperial presence, you looked at your father with a gaze that suggested naivety. “What is the matter, father?”

Duke de Roma appeared visibly strained by his youngest child. “Y/N, is it true that you declined a visit from Crown Prince Satoru?”

You felt the urge to scoff, but opted against it. “Rejection is an understatement, Your Grace. My interest in His Highness has simply waned.” 

“So soon?” The elderly man was perplexed by your assertion, considering your reputation as a notorious obsessive lover of the prince. You were perceived by all as the erratic woman who would engage in conflict with any rival who dared to court his affections. “What sudden change prompts you to speak ill of him? Were you not striving to win his favor?"

Yes, but that was before. That was the version of yourself who sacrificed everything for someone incapable of reciprocating the love you sought. Things have altered now, and you recognized it was wiser not to pursue Satoru after knowing and personally experiencing the peril it posed to both yourself and the empire. He would only seek to exploit your family’s military influence to stage a coup against his parents, beguile you with his false affections, and make use of you until you were no longer serving him any purpose. You refused to be complicit in his ambitions any longer. Not in this life, no. 

“Rather,” you began with a voice of confidence, “I would choose being in a convent than to wed a man like His Highness.” 

Your father nearly fainted from your words. “By Saint Peter’s keys! I cannot understand the youth of today. Tell me, is there another suitor who has captured your interest? Have you found another man more noble than a prince?” 

With a smile, you looked at yourself in the mirror and prepared for the day ahead. “No, Father. On the contrary, I seek a life of solitude. If I could remain unwed for the entirety of my days, I would gladly embrace it.” 

This, you believed, was the surest way to distance yourself from trouble and seek redemption for your past transgressions. A life without Crown Prince Satoru was the road to attaining highest virtue. Your love for him was the reason you had committed such sins in the past, so the best thing to do in this life was to steer yourself clear from his path at all cost. Otherwise, the thought of facing the piercing gaze of Archangel Raphael again was too daunting to bear.

“What folly is this?” Duke de Roma questioned your words incredulously. “Did you not aspire to become the most powerful lady in the empire? Pursuing the Crown Prince is the path to becoming an empress. Cease this nonsensical talk and continue your efforts to win his favor!”

Once he departed, you were left alone in your chamber, feeling a mixture of relief and frustration. You were tempted to let out a groan of exasperation, but with Milena present, you had to maintain your composure. It was crucial for her to witness your changed mindset. Gone was the vicious lady she had served in her previous life. Though you could not offer a direct apology for the role you played in her demise before, you were determined to ensure her comfort and well-being in this new life.

As for your father, you were uncertain what to do with him yet. He was coming from a place of concern, knowing that your decision to enter a convent would ultimately make his investments futile. He had invested heavily in your upbringing, providing you with every luxury, the finest education, and the resources necessary to secure a prominent place in high society. His aspirations for you to become an empress were not solely driven by paternal pride, but also by the anticipation of reaping the rewards of his investment. Losing such an asset would undoubtedly be a significant blow to his plans and ambitions. Yet, he had no single idea what suffering you had actually endured in your past life after becoming Satoru’s wife for 10 agonizing years. 

Well, in that case, you had an alternative plan—one that promised to secure the De Roma family’s status and elevate its wealth to unreachable heights without necessitating your ascent to the imperial throne.

“Milena,” you said, walking towards your window, “Prepare the carriage. We have somewhere to be.” 

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“Fifty celestas?!” Milena questioned in disbelief, her hooded cloak framing her face as she confronted the artist before you. Today, both of you dressed down, adopting a guise that would allow you to blend seamlessly with the throng of commoners in the outskirts of the capital. “Signor, are you not asking for an exorbitant sum? You are exploiting My Lady merely because she is the daughter of Duke de Roma.”

It was a mistake bringing Milena with you, but it also served as a good signifier that the artist, Giancarlo di Firenze, was still operating in an era where his talent and skill as a sculptor had yet to be recognized. In the eyes of others, he was a struggling artist whose work warranted no more than a few trinkets. However, you possessed the advantage of foresight, bestowed upon you by your gift of clairvoyance (or in layman’s terms, a cheat sheet into the future due to your regression). You knew that Maestro Giancarlo’s sculptures would eventually gain widespread acclaim, particularly after they were displayed at the Veneran Museum, and he would be the most sought after artist in the continent with pieces worth thousands. Even your then-husband, the emperor himself, commissioned him for the notable Star Crossed Lovers sculpture for the ten year death anniversary of the prince and princess of the Astheryn and Caelum Empires. The 50 celestas Signor Giancarlo demanded now paled in comparison to the immense resale value his works would command in a decade’s time. This would be one of your best investments as a mere lady with no imperial wealth. 

“Fifty celestas for this Apollo and Daphne sculpture seems a fair price,” you mused, scrutinizing each exquisite detail of the remarkable artwork. The sculpture was truly a masterpiece and very much deserving of admiration, which was why in your past life, it was highly coveted by The Venera for its sheer magnificence. However, you refrained from showering the Signor with excessive praise. To do so would only awaken him to the true value of his creations, and he could potentially inflate his prices beyond your budget. Thus, you maintained an air of indifference as you regarded the middle-aged sculptor. “It would make a suitable addition to our garden,” you casually added. “I shall purchase it.”

“My Lady!” protested Milena, but you silenced her with a gesture.

“In addition, I would like to acquire the Ecstasy of Saint Teresa and a selection of your cherubic sculptures,” you continued, disregarding Milena’s objections and the delighted expression on Maestro Giancarlo's face. “Pray, how much would the entire collection amount to?”

It was as if he had stumbled upon a treasure trove. The Signor’s eyes glistened with tears of joy as he responded to you. “Lady de Roma! What a blessing you have bestowed upon me,” he exclaimed, leaving you sympathetic towards his years of unacknowledged artistry. “The collection would fetch two-hundred celestas.”

Your maid, filled with concern, cried out in protest. “Preposterous! This is a swindle!”

Again, 200 celestas was a trifling sum compared to its prospective worth. Moreover, it was a price that would not significantly dent your finances as a noble lady. However, if you acquiesced to his initial offer without negotiation, he might infer that you would readily purchase any of his other works at its highest prices.

It was a simple game of chess, and he was merely one of your pawns.

“A hundred and fifty celestas,” you countered, maintaining a steely gaze on Maestro Giancarlo as you made your bargain. “Take it or leave it.”

The man voiced his objection, nonetheless. “But My Lady, I have dedicated weeks to crafting each piece.”

Being ten steps ahead, you already anticipated his response, so you offered a compromise. “Yes, yet two hundred for a handful of pieces seems excessive. I will increase it to a hundred and seventy-five. Do we have an accord?”

“But—”

“Two hundred celestas,” you declared firmly, “on the condition that you add a few more cherubim to my collection.”

In the end, he agreed to your offer with an air of triumph as if he had hit the jackpot. He penned your receipt with a sense of satisfaction, believing he had outwitted you with his inflated price when, unbeknownst to him, he had just sold pieces worth roughly two-hundred thousand celestas. The clear winner in this exchange was you, though you kept that fact strictly concealed. Your strategy to amass personal wealth would remain a secret to all, even if Milena thought you had lost your mind paying such a sum for the work of a struggling artist.

And you did not plan to stop there. Your next task was to visit Pietro De Luca, a renowned painter from your past life who had risen to prominence during your time as empress. Like the sculptor, this man was yet to achieve fame during the future period of artistic renaissance. He was the one who painted you and your husband’s infamous portrait at the palace. Unfortunately, though, luck was not on your side when you visited the painter that day, as the man had apparently journeyed to Constantia and would not return for another fortnight.

Ah, well. There would always be another opportunity.

“My Lady,” spoke Milena, standing beside you as your father’s men loaded the sculptures into the spare carriage. “I never imagined the day would come when you would take an interest in sculptures. When did you develop an eye for art?”

To tell her the truth, you cared little for its artistic merit. Your sole concern was its value and the wealth it would bring you in a decade’s time. You could never reveal that fact to Milena, so you offered an excuse instead. “They make for lovely decorations, do they not? They would certainly add to the opulence of the estate.”

Your sentence was abruptly interrupted as a pair of playing children collided with you, causing your hood to slip down and reveal your face. The mother of the children, instead of offering an apology, was too stunned to realize that you were a noblewoman from the capital. They were clearly of lower status than commoners; they were beggars, clad in tattered garments and bearing grimy faces. Your heart twinged with pity, especially upon seeing the mother cradling a baby in her arms.

A poor infant. Almost instinctively, your hand flew to your belly as memories flooded your mind of the baby you nearly had in your past life. It was Satoru’s child, the future emperor of the empire, the sole heir to the imperial Gojou lineage. Yet, he refused to acknowledge it as his own. What would have happened to your child if he had lived? The bittersweet recollection clenched at your gut. 

“Please, my lady,” pleaded the impoverished woman, “Any food or clothing would be a blessing.”

To think of it, in your past life, you realized that the commoners harbored resentment towards you for your extravagant lifestyle. None of the luxuries you enjoyed as empress were shared with the masses of the Caelum Empire. They remained trapped in poverty while you reveled in comfort, completely disconnected from their reality. It was no wonder you had incurred the wrath of Goddess Fortuna and Archangel Raphael.

And now, overwhelmed by compassion, you motioned for Milena to offer 50 celestas to the woman, who graciously accepted your gift. The sum would suffice for six months' worth of food supplies. Though you wished you could give more, your wealth was not infinite as the daughter of a duke. Nevertheless, it was the gesture that mattered, was it not?

As you and Milena continued to stroll through the plaza, you could sense the incredulous glances she would cast your way. It must have been strange for her to witness your kindness towards commoners, let alone your act of charity by giving away months worth of allowance to strangers.

“Is it the tea I served you the other morning, my lady?” she inquired, concerned. “You seem to be behaving differently, as if you have transformed into a completely different person.”

In your previous life, Milena’s straightforward comments would have resulted in punishment from you. However, in this timeline, you merely chuckled with her. “Life’s too fleeting to be evil all the time.”

Like an eager puppy, she nodded enthusiastically. “Indeed, my lady. Indeed! It brings me joy to see you embracing life in a different manner.”

If only she knew the hardships you had endured in the past, molding you into someone who viewed the world through a different lens in this present time. She would have been glad to see you become an empress, but she would be horrified to know the amount of souls that died by your hands alone. 

You were lost in contemplation throughout the afternoon, and you wandered aimlessly around the city, immersing yourself fully in the lives of the common folk until dusk began to descend. Just as you were about to make your way back to your carriage, a larger one passed by, adorned in white and blue with the imperial insignia proudly displayed.

Today heralded the return of Princess Savina from The Providence. She was the sister of Crown Prince Satoru and the infamous Caelum princess who had tragically perished alongside her lover, Prince Megumi of Astheryn.

Her tragic demise was also the beginning of Satoru’s descent to tyranny. 

That could only mean one thing: the true story was just about to unfold. 

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You felt unsettled. 

Princess Savina’s return marked not only a significant turning point, but also served as a stark reminder of the events that had unfolded in your previous life. Her tragic death had set off a chain reaction of calamities. After her illicit romance with an Astherean prince was exposed, a devastating war broke out and claimed the deaths of innocent citizens. Shortly after, the prince and princess' dead bodies were discovered in the Sistine Chapel. While the conflict might have concluded with an armistice, it was also the catalyst for Satoru’s path to seizing the throne with your helping hand. It was this very moment that laid the groundwork for Satoru's eventual usurpation of the throne. 

Soon after, Satoru’s ascension to power would be imminent, with you standing by his side as his chosen empress. He would eliminate every traitor you had identified, while you exacted vengeance upon those who had wronged you prior to your rise to an imperial status. Yet, despite your unwavering loyalty and dedication, Satoru never truly trusted or loved you as his wife, ultimately leading to his betrayal in the end.

How could you stand still and watch history repeat itself? 

You had to have a plan. You had to devise a scheme wise enough to change the course of your life. And perhaps, befriending Savina might be the key. She might have a chance to live if her affair with the Astherean prince remained undiscovered, averting the tragic chain of events that led to her demise. That way, Satoru would not harbor the desperation to usurp his parents. He would not ask you to orchestrate a coup, and make you his pathetic empress in return. In this life, you resolved to be repulsive enough in Satoru's eyes that he would be utterly disinterested in you, even if you were the last person on Earth. 

The plan seemed logical, yet simultaneously absurd. In your past life, you had strived with all your might to become Satoru's wife, yet now, you were doing everything in your power to avoid such a fate. Is this naught but a cruel game? You could not suppress a wry chuckle as you stared at your reflection in the mirror, the bright moonlight casting an illuminated glow upon you. It was enchanting yet horrifying at the same time to see a faint scar encircling your neck, a grim mark that reminded you of your previous fate as a beheaded empress. You were still uncertain whether you were the only one who could see the scar, but Milena had never seemed to notice it during your bathing rituals. Perhaps the scar would only manifest as a visible reminder of sin, and would fade with virtuous deeds. Your recent act of generosity towards the beggar, however, seemed to carry no weight in mitigating your previous unethical dealings with Maestro Giancarlo. It appeared that genuine acts of kindness were only truly rewarded when performed with sincerity, while any hint of selfishness nullified their positive effects.

You acknowledged that virtuousness was not inherently ingrained within you. While avoiding marriage to Satoru was your primary objective, the prospect of a life dedicated to serving the common people was not your desired path. As long as you refrained from inflicting suffering upon others, you saw no necessity in accumulating merits through good deeds. After all, your sole task, as directed by Archangel Raphael, was to atone for your sins, not to become a paragon of virtue. You were no saint. 

Three days had quickly passed since that night, and this day held a special occasion that had your heart pumping heavily the morning you woke up. Today, as accurate as your previous life, was the day of The Mass of Annunciation—a holy Catholic mass to celebrate when Archangel Gabriel appeared to the Virgin Mary and announced to her that she would conceive and give birth to the son of God, Jesus. 

The grandeur of the event was undeniable, and attendance was obligatory for all noble families of Caelum, given the devout nature of the empire’s populace. Moreover, the presence of the imperial Gojou family ensured the importance of the occasion. Yet, for you, stepping into Saint Peter's Basilica once more stirred nerves as memories flooded back from your time as an empress. Now, as a 20-year-old daughter of a duke, you entered the basilica beside your brother, Aristide, whose pompous demeanor drew the gaze of all noble ladies present. After all, he was the empire’s second most eligible bachelor after Satoru himself. In your first life, your brother had wed Lady Serena, and your relationship had soured when you declared him a traitor and accused him of treachery against your then-husband. Although Satoru had spared his life, he had decreed Aristide’s eventual exile, wary of the threat posed by a brother-in-law with ambitions for the throne.

The stark contrast between your current standing and your former eminence as an empress was palpable as you made your first public appearance in high society since your regression. No longer did heads turn and knees bend at the sight of you. Instead, you were regarded as a mere noblewoman, approaching the age where marriage prospects dwindled, and whispered rumors branded you as a woman with an unsavory fixation on the crown prince. It was a humbling experience, to say the least, and a reminder of the depths to which your reputation had fallen.

Despite no longer holding the title of empress, you spared no effort in your attire. You carried yourself with the same regal air, a testament to your upbringing and the lavish lifestyle afforded by your father. Your family not only produced the bravest knights, but also supported a prosperous weaponry business, which reflected your ostentatious way of life. That was why you had the means to wear a sumptuous gown of rich burgundy brocade, intricately woven with gold thread and adorned with delicate floral embroidery. You made certain that the modest neckline gracefully covered your neck to hide your revolting scar, while layers of sheer chiffon formed a voluminous skirt that cascades to your feet. Your hair was secured in a crespine, a delicate net-like veil adorned with lustrous pearls and sparkling gemstones, while around your neck hung a simple yet elegant silver cross pendant to add a touch of reverence.

In your eyes, you considered yourself a modest and conservative lady who was hesitant to reveal too much skin. However, your brother found it laughable, jesting that you might as well become a nun given how covered your chest and neckline were. He remarked that it was unusual for you to dress in such a reserved manner, as you had previously taken the initiative to wear attire that would attract Satoru’s manly gaze.

“Announcing the arrival of His and Her Imperial Highness, followed by His and Her Imperial Majesties—the luminaries of our empire.”  

As the imperial family arrived at the basilica, a hushed anticipation suddenly fell over the gathered crowd. The air was filled with a palpable sense of reverence and awe as the imposing façade of the basilica welcomed the presence of the empire’s highest authority.

First to enter were Princess Savina and Crown Prince Satoru, the heir and heiress to the throne, their regal presence commanding attention as they made their way down the grand procession. Princess Savina was resplendent in a gown of shimmering silk and a coronet as her headdress, while there he came… Your then-husband. Your ex-lover. Your betrayer. Crown Prince Satoru, clad in a tailored doublet of rich blue velvet, projecting an air of quiet strength and authority as he stared straight ahead towards the altar like he did in your past life. You had almost forgotten how princely handsome he was when he was younger, and you could not stop your frenzied heart as you felt somersaults in your stomach. No, you must not! It was all in the mind. It was all a matter of mind games, and this might be the first time you had seen Satoru again in real life after your regression, but he was still a man who had ordered to kill you. You should never be fooled by his luscious white hair and sky blue eyes. 

“In love?” whispered your brother, a smirk visible on his face. 

“Out of love,” you corrected and remained resolute in your goal not to get swayed by Satoru’s charm again. “I feel not a single thing.” 

Aristide scoffed at that. “Yet your eyes shine at the sight of him?” 

As the imperial siblings took their places at the head of the procession, the assembled congregation bowed their heads in deference as the imperial family proceeded to their seats and their every movement watched with rapt attention by the gathered nobility. Following closely behind were the Emperor and Empress, the reigning monarchs of the empire, their presence heralded by the sound of trumpets and the swell of sacred music.

You chose not to bicker with your brother throughout the holy mass, although there were times you were tempted to cuss him out. He seemed to be thoroughly enjoying himself, ridiculing your attire and insisting that Satoru would never pay you any attention. He took great pleasure in reminding you of the prince’s supposed revulsion towards your obsession, when little did your foolish brother know, you would be glad if that was in fact true. 

And the ironic thing was, in your previous life, you had done Aristide a great favor by marrying Satoru. This freed up Lady Serena for marriage, despite her supposed status as the crown prince’s favorite. You used to despise Serena out of sheer jealousy, while Aristide had always desired her, which was why your brother had urged you to win Satoru's affections to pave the way for him to marry the lady he so coveted.

In this life, you decided not to interfere in any potential relationship between Satoru and Serena, regardless of your brother’s wishes. You acknowledged that Serena would make a far superior empress than yourself, as she possessed enough empathy in her to prioritize the welfare of her people and avoid endangering them. She was not the type of person who would willingly bring about the destruction of an entire nation, nor would she welcome the spread of plague out of mere vengeance against her husband. 

With Satoru out of your plans, Savina then came into the picture. You had to speak and get close to her—close enough for her to trust you and befriend you, but not attached enough for you to act like her older sister. You would only be here to guide her and avoid her from the path of her downfall in order to save yourself. Savina was the key. 

Savina… Savina would be the one to save you in this life. Savina was your only hope. 

As the mass concluded, some of the nobles began to disperse, while others congregated in a corner to converse with the Archbishop. Your sole intention at that moment was to approach Savina, allowing your feet to lead you to the direction of where she was. But just before you reached her, you stumbled upon a very significant individual who had played a pivotal role in bringing about your suffering in your previous life.

It was none other than Satoru’s advisor, Lord Maximillian. 

“Lady Y/N, it is a delight to see you,” the man greeted, but you could see right through him. He never liked you now and in the past. In fact, his hatred stemmed from his peculiar fixation towards the imperial family. He may look younger presently, but he was still an old and rotten base-born cur. 

Maximilian was the one responsible for introducing Satoru to the prophecy, and he was also the individual who whispered your demise into your husband's ears. Given his role in your past suffering, why should you afford him any respect?

“It is rather surprising you had not burned inside the church,” you remarked acerbically, eliciting widened eyes from the nobleman. “Yet it does beg the question, Lord Maximilian, what brings a heretic like yourself inside a Catholic church?”

Within the confines of the basilica, or at least the space surrounding you, a variety of reactions unfolded. A noble lady shot you a disapproving stare for your perceived rudeness towards a man of higher nobility, while your brother regarded you with a mixture of astonishment and concern as if you had gone mad. Conversely, a young nobleman appeared impressed by your audacity.

As for Maximilian, it was rather amusing to observe the crimson hue that spread across his face. You anticipated his retort and braced yourself for his comeback. “Why, you foul-mouthed wench!” he exclaimed, his voice laden with indignation. “Who do you think you are speaking to?!”

You grinned triumphantly at your success in offending him. “You should be ashamed to show yourself in front of God—" you began, relishing the opportunity to further provoke him, but was cut short when a formidable presence appeared before you. 

The arctic white hair, the crystal blue eyes, the smooth ivory skin, the towering build from years of training… 

“Your Highness,” Maximilian immediately curtsied before the prince, while you remained frozen in place. Like a statue. “Your Highness, this young lady is preposterous!” 

On one hand, Satoru’s eyes bathed in humor as he observed the interaction between you and Maximilian. This was the first time you two had faced each other since the regression, and the emotions stirred within you were still raw. You were husband and wife when you last saw each other. You could still remember the last time you saw him the night before your execution, when he visited you in the West Tower and asked you to live a solitary life in the countryside as his mistress. Your heart seemed to constrict in your chest, yet simultaneously, it pounded loudly with anticipation. 

“Max, it seems the lady has labeled you a heretic,” the Crown Prince remarked, his gaze unwavering as he focused on you. “Can you substantiate your accusations, Lady Y/N?” he inquired, prompting you to defend your claims.

Satoru, you fool. If you were to reveal what happened in your previous life, he would be an accomplice to the crime. He carried the highest position in the empire at the time, yet he was a supporter of heresy himself. That alone would have brought him into Inquisition. 

You could not think straight. Oh for heaven’s sake! You could not focus. Could not breathe. Could not speak. Your thoughts were flooded by memories of your past life; of Satoru claiming you were useless for being barren, of him refusing to acknowledge your child, of him planning to wed another woman after the years you had devoted to him, of him ruthlessly ordering your execution. 

Of him never saying he loved you. 

Before you realized it, tears welled up in your eyes. You were utterly unprepared to encounter him today, let alone engage in conversation, especially while the wounds from your past were still so raw. Some wounds had yet to heal, and the mere sight of him brought them flooding back.

And with your unexpected reaction, his expression softened and morphed into one of genuine concern. Why? Why was he suddenly concerned now when he spent years of being an ungrateful husband? His smile had long vanished, replaced by a look of worry after seeing you on the verge of breaking down. However, before the tears could spill, you turned and fled, unable to bear the thought of crying in front of a man like him.

“Hold still, Lady Y/N—!”

His voice called out to you, but you refused to look back. No, you were determined to only keep moving forward, to distance yourself from the man who had caused you so much pain. Therefore, you hastily fled the basilica, seeking solace amidst the throng of nobles who were crowding outside. 

As you ran, tears streamed down your face unchecked, yet you let it be. The ache in your heart was unbearable, knowing that the man you had once loved so deeply now had the power to hurt you all over again. Only when you found a secluded spot beneath a stone pine tree did you collapse, clutching your chest as you recalled the face of the man who had caused you so much anguish.

I despise you, Satoru. 

“How could you betray me like that?” you murmured, tears staining your cheeks as you sobbed beneath the tree, feeling utterly pathetic.

Suddenly, a shadow fell over you, and as you looked up, you saw a man with dark hair clad in shining armor. His smile was gentle as he approached and crouched down beside you.

“My lady.” It was the Knight Commander, Yuuta, offering you his handkerchief. “Is everything alright?”

[saintobio]

ACT I. THE LADY

amidst the tale of sweetest love and bitterest revenge, the fallen empress is cast back ten years into the past to correct her sins and avoid eternal damnation, even at the price of betraying her once husband, the very cause of her downfall.

♱ pairings. gojo satoru, fem!reader

♱ genre. enemies-to-lovers, period piece, medieval au

♱ tags. ooc, regression, crown prince!gojo, noble lady!reader, politics, classism, clan wars, religion (catholicism), slight mentions of gore

♱ notes. 6.5k wc, unedited. again, for anyone who missed my small announcement, the ‘juliet’ from my megumi r+j fic has a name here for narration purposes. she remains as you or yn in the original fic tho :) feedback would be highly appreciated!

series masterlist ♱ act two.

“I humbly beg your pardon, Your Imperial Highness. The lady declines any audience at this time.”

Throughout his princely life, Satoru had never before faced rejection from any of his subjects, let alone one of his own citizens. No one ever dared to deny the Crown Prince as they were aware of the consequences of offending a member of the imperial family, let alone the future Emperor of Caelum. 

So, how could this mere daughter of a duke summon the courage to refuse his audience? 

It was baffling to him. Were you not the one who had written him a lovestruck letter requesting a meeting? As one of the eligible brides for the Crown Prince and a strong contender for the position of Crown Princess, it was only natural for you to vie for his affection and secure your spot on the imperial throne. You had it all; the status, the power, the wit. You had quite the face, too. This would have been an opportune moment for you to ensnare his favor and win him over. Yet, what reason could you possibly have now to suddenly decline his audience?

“On what grounds did she refuse?” Satoru maintained a stern demeanor as he stood beside his white horse, scrutinizing the servant from the De Roma estate who trembled before the prince. His blue velvet cloak and imperial insignia added to the overall intimidation of his presence. 

The maid, mindful of the perils that may befall her for the actions of her master, spake with evident apprehension. “The lady offered no explanation, Your Highness. She simply wishes to remain in her chamber.”

Needless to say, he felt a mixture of amusement and intrigue at this situation. The same noble lady who had previously been forward in her advances and infatuation towards him was now avoiding an opportunity to get acquainted? And to think, he had believed he was doing you a favor by granting you a chance to spend time with him this noontide. 

“Very well.” The prince gazed down at the servant with a stern expression, raking his slender fingers through his arctic white hair before mounting his war horse. “Remind the lady that there are consequences for denying the rights of the imperial family. Each slight she casts is an arrow to her neck. Let her know that there shall not be another chance such as this.”

He sensed the maid’s fear after she offered him a curtsy, yet he could not fathom how she remained steadfast in her refusal to grant him access to your drawing room despite his clearly spoken warning. She was guarding the entrance to the estate as though she would face greater consequences for letting the crown prince in than for keeping him out. Were you truly so stringent in maintaining your distance from him?

So be it. If that was your game, then let it be played. In fact, you might be trying to seem hard-to-get after the stunts you had pulled at the hunting expedition two weeks hence. If his memory served him right, you were the one who sabotaged Lady Anastasia’s crossbow and led her in her near-fatal experience. You see, you might have gotten away with it, but Satoru was a witness to your deliberate crime. He had seen you tampering with Lady Anastasia’s weapon, replacing her regular bolts with ones laced with fast-acting poison, which left the poor lady paralyzed in the middle of a dangerous hunt. Had it not been for Satoru, Lady de Florentine would have likely been mauled by a wild boar. 

Yet, his intervention only seemed to stoke your ire even more. Your jealousy after seeing him save Anastasia’s life only made you see red, almost revealing yourself the true perpetrator for the obvious expressions you had displayed. Still, he chose to remain silent about your malicious actions, pretending to be oblivious to your cunning ways and dismissing any suspicions of foul play in the incident. In a way, Satoru had saved your life more than you realized. Not only that, he had also safeguarded your reputation and standing in high society without your knowledge, as he understood that your animosity towards Lady Anastasia only stemmed from the way he had interacted with her, speaking in close proximity and kissing her hand prior to the hunting game.  

Ha! What a devious little viper you were. What a brazenly proud woman. By declining to meet the Crown Prince, you had only ironically succeeded in piquing his interest even more.  

“Is everything in order, Your Highness?” It was his close friend and personal knight, Suguru, who snapped him out of his reverie as they rode their horses back toward the capital. Three more of the prince’s knights trailed behind them. Suguru’s question hinted at concern for the prince’s sanity, given that he had been observed laughing to himself despite the insult he had faced just half an hour ago.

“It is rather amusing, is it not?” Satoru pondered, his hands firmly gripping the reins as he guided his horse along the uneven path. “Lady Y/N might seem out of her wits, but she is astute. I see through her tactics. She obviously desires my attention, which is why she is behaving this way.”

The long-haired knight chuckled with unease. “I fear that may not be her intention.”

The notion appeared absurd to him. “Not her intention? Grant her but a moment, and she shall trail after me once more like a shadow. This is a blessing, if anything. I am now spared the need to endure that lady’s temperament during formal events.”

Did you realize? Despite numerous instances where Satoru overlooked your transgressions, if you were to provoke his ire, he could surely publicly enumerate each offense. The stained dress incident involving Lady Serena? Your handiwork. The scandalous rumors regarding Lady Franchetta? Also your doing. Not to mention your mistreatment of maids and commoners out of mere boredom. Your actions would have easily rendered you an unsuitable candidate as the Crown Prince’s bride, yet he remained silent and never reported such occurrences to his father, the emperor. More than that, he should be relieved that you had chosen to avoid him and spared him further entanglements with you.

However, Satoru’s words contradicted his own sentiments, and he refused to acknowledge his hypocrisy. Although he claimed satisfaction with your decision to keep your distance, why did thoughts of you arise foremost when he passed by a jewel shop that showcased its newest collections? He and his men were traversing the city square when his sky blue eyes caught sight of a necklace with a large, deep-red garnet as its centerpiece, surrounded by intricate gold filigrees, and a single teardrop-shaped pearl dangling at the bottom. The overall design was bold and commanding, yet undeniably elegant. A befitting accessory for Caelum’s next crown princess.

“Would you care to inspect the jewel shop, my lord?” proposed one of his knights. “That necklace could serve as a splendid gift for Lady Serena, who is soon to celebrate her birthday banquet.”

The prince saw his reflection in the shop’s window, his white steed poised gracefully while he gazed at the jewelry on display. A smirk unanticipatedly graced his lips as he envisioned a particular scenario in his head. “Indeed.” 

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Milena was cinching your corset when your father abruptly entered your chamber, his visage bearing a questioning mien as his footsteps loudened each second. You already anticipated the nature of his visit, for nothing else would prompt such urgency unless it pertained to your reputation. In retrospect, you remembered him having knowledge of your misdeeds against the other debutantes currying favor with the crown prince, and he was well aware of the details of your crafty schemes and all the deliberate sabotage you had orchestrated. And although your father often covered for you out of paternal pride, he still chastised you for your actions in private. The latter assuredly was the purpose of his visit now.

Well, dear father, your daughter is no longer the same. 

“Maid,” commanded the duke, “Leave us for a while.” 

Milena immediately bowed at your father. “Yes, Your Grace—”

“No, Milena. You will not take a single step out of this chamber.” Your order somehow surprised the both of them as though you had never sounded so authoritative before, like you had the imperial power and position to be issuing commands greater than your father’s. Ah, right. You were not an empress anymore. Or yet. None of these people were your subjects, and living in the past would really take some time getting used to. In an effort to conceal your years of imperial presence, you looked at your father with a gaze that suggested naivety. “What is the matter, father?”

Duke de Roma appeared visibly strained by his youngest child. “Y/N, is it true that you declined a visit from Crown Prince Satoru?”

You felt the urge to scoff, but opted against it. “Rejection is an understatement, Your Grace. My interest in His Highness has simply waned.” 

“So soon?” The elderly man was perplexed by your assertion, considering your reputation as a notorious obsessive lover of the prince. You were perceived by all as the erratic woman who would engage in conflict with any rival who dared to court his affections. “What sudden change prompts you to speak ill of him? Were you not striving to win his favor?"

Yes, but that was before. That was the version of yourself who sacrificed everything for someone incapable of reciprocating the love you sought. Things have altered now, and you recognized it was wiser not to pursue Satoru after knowing and personally experiencing the peril it posed to both yourself and the empire. He would only seek to exploit your family’s military influence to stage a coup against his parents, beguile you with his false affections, and make use of you until you were no longer serving him any purpose. You refused to be complicit in his ambitions any longer. Not in this life, no. 

“Rather,” you began with a voice of confidence, “I would choose being in a convent than to wed a man like His Highness.” 

Your father nearly fainted from your words. “By Saint Peter’s keys! I cannot understand the youth of today. Tell me, is there another suitor who has captured your interest? Have you found another man more noble than a prince?” 

With a smile, you looked at yourself in the mirror and prepared for the day ahead. “No, Father. On the contrary, I seek a life of solitude. If I could remain unwed for the entirety of my days, I would gladly embrace it.” 

This, you believed, was the surest way to distance yourself from trouble and seek redemption for your past transgressions. A life without Crown Prince Satoru was the road to attaining highest virtue. Your love for him was the reason you had committed such sins in the past, so the best thing to do in this life was to steer yourself clear from his path at all cost. Otherwise, the thought of facing the piercing gaze of Archangel Raphael again was too daunting to bear.

“What folly is this?” Duke de Roma questioned your words incredulously. “Did you not aspire to become the most powerful lady in the empire? Pursuing the Crown Prince is the path to becoming an empress. Cease this nonsensical talk and continue your efforts to win his favor!”

Once he departed, you were left alone in your chamber, feeling a mixture of relief and frustration. You were tempted to let out a groan of exasperation, but with Milena present, you had to maintain your composure. It was crucial for her to witness your changed mindset. Gone was the vicious lady she had served in her previous life. Though you could not offer a direct apology for the role you played in her demise before, you were determined to ensure her comfort and well-being in this new life.

As for your father, you were uncertain what to do with him yet. He was coming from a place of concern, knowing that your decision to enter a convent would ultimately make his investments futile. He had invested heavily in your upbringing, providing you with every luxury, the finest education, and the resources necessary to secure a prominent place in high society. His aspirations for you to become an empress were not solely driven by paternal pride, but also by the anticipation of reaping the rewards of his investment. Losing such an asset would undoubtedly be a significant blow to his plans and ambitions. Yet, he had no single idea what suffering you had actually endured in your past life after becoming Satoru’s wife for 10 agonizing years. 

Well, in that case, you had an alternative plan—one that promised to secure the De Roma family’s status and elevate its wealth to unreachable heights without necessitating your ascent to the imperial throne.

“Milena,” you said, walking towards your window, “Prepare the carriage. We have somewhere to be.” 

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“Fifty celestas?!” Milena questioned in disbelief, her hooded cloak framing her face as she confronted the artist before you. Today, both of you dressed down, adopting a guise that would allow you to blend seamlessly with the throng of commoners in the outskirts of the capital. “Signor, are you not asking for an exorbitant sum? You are exploiting My Lady merely because she is the daughter of Duke de Roma.”

It was a mistake bringing Milena with you, but it also served as a good signifier that the artist, Giancarlo di Firenze, was still operating in an era where his talent and skill as a sculptor had yet to be recognized. In the eyes of others, he was a struggling artist whose work warranted no more than a few trinkets. However, you possessed the advantage of foresight, bestowed upon you by your gift of clairvoyance (or in layman’s terms, a cheat sheet into the future due to your regression). You knew that Maestro Giancarlo’s sculptures would eventually gain widespread acclaim, particularly after they were displayed at the Veneran Museum, and he would be the most sought after artist in the continent with pieces worth thousands. Even your then-husband, the emperor himself, commissioned him for the notable Star Crossed Lovers sculpture for the ten year death anniversary of the prince and princess of the Astheryn and Caelum Empires. The 50 celestas Signor Giancarlo demanded now paled in comparison to the immense resale value his works would command in a decade’s time. This would be one of your best investments as a mere lady with no imperial wealth. 

“Fifty celestas for this Apollo and Daphne sculpture seems a fair price,” you mused, scrutinizing each exquisite detail of the remarkable artwork. The sculpture was truly a masterpiece and very much deserving of admiration, which was why in your past life, it was highly coveted by The Venera for its sheer magnificence. However, you refrained from showering the Signor with excessive praise. To do so would only awaken him to the true value of his creations, and he could potentially inflate his prices beyond your budget. Thus, you maintained an air of indifference as you regarded the middle-aged sculptor. “It would make a suitable addition to our garden,” you casually added. “I shall purchase it.”

“My Lady!” protested Milena, but you silenced her with a gesture.

“In addition, I would like to acquire the Ecstasy of Saint Teresa and a selection of your cherubic sculptures,” you continued, disregarding Milena’s objections and the delighted expression on Maestro Giancarlo's face. “Pray, how much would the entire collection amount to?”

It was as if he had stumbled upon a treasure trove. The Signor’s eyes glistened with tears of joy as he responded to you. “Lady de Roma! What a blessing you have bestowed upon me,” he exclaimed, leaving you sympathetic towards his years of unacknowledged artistry. “The collection would fetch two-hundred celestas.”

Your maid, filled with concern, cried out in protest. “Preposterous! This is a swindle!”

Again, 200 celestas was a trifling sum compared to its prospective worth. Moreover, it was a price that would not significantly dent your finances as a noble lady. However, if you acquiesced to his initial offer without negotiation, he might infer that you would readily purchase any of his other works at its highest prices.

It was a simple game of chess, and he was merely one of your pawns.

“A hundred and fifty celestas,” you countered, maintaining a steely gaze on Maestro Giancarlo as you made your bargain. “Take it or leave it.”

The man voiced his objection, nonetheless. “But My Lady, I have dedicated weeks to crafting each piece.”

Being ten steps ahead, you already anticipated his response, so you offered a compromise. “Yes, yet two hundred for a handful of pieces seems excessive. I will increase it to a hundred and seventy-five. Do we have an accord?”

“But—”

“Two hundred celestas,” you declared firmly, “on the condition that you add a few more cherubim to my collection.”

In the end, he agreed to your offer with an air of triumph as if he had hit the jackpot. He penned your receipt with a sense of satisfaction, believing he had outwitted you with his inflated price when, unbeknownst to him, he had just sold pieces worth roughly two-hundred thousand celestas. The clear winner in this exchange was you, though you kept that fact strictly concealed. Your strategy to amass personal wealth would remain a secret to all, even if Milena thought you had lost your mind paying such a sum for the work of a struggling artist.

And you did not plan to stop there. Your next task was to visit Pietro De Luca, a renowned painter from your past life who had risen to prominence during your time as empress. Like the sculptor, this man was yet to achieve fame during the future period of artistic renaissance. He was the one who painted you and your husband’s infamous portrait at the palace. Unfortunately, though, luck was not on your side when you visited the painter that day, as the man had apparently journeyed to Constantia and would not return for another fortnight.

Ah, well. There would always be another opportunity.

“My Lady,” spoke Milena, standing beside you as your father’s men loaded the sculptures into the spare carriage. “I never imagined the day would come when you would take an interest in sculptures. When did you develop an eye for art?”

To tell her the truth, you cared little for its artistic merit. Your sole concern was its value and the wealth it would bring you in a decade’s time. You could never reveal that fact to Milena, so you offered an excuse instead. “They make for lovely decorations, do they not? They would certainly add to the opulence of the estate.”

Your sentence was abruptly interrupted as a pair of playing children collided with you, causing your hood to slip down and reveal your face. The mother of the children, instead of offering an apology, was too stunned to realize that you were a noblewoman from the capital. They were clearly of lower status than commoners; they were beggars, clad in tattered garments and bearing grimy faces. Your heart twinged with pity, especially upon seeing the mother cradling a baby in her arms.

A poor infant. Almost instinctively, your hand flew to your belly as memories flooded your mind of the baby you nearly had in your past life. It was Satoru’s child, the future emperor of the empire, the sole heir to the imperial Gojou lineage. Yet, he refused to acknowledge it as his own. What would have happened to your child if he had lived? The bittersweet recollection clenched at your gut. 

“Please, my lady,” pleaded the impoverished woman, “Any food or clothing would be a blessing.”

To think of it, in your past life, you realized that the commoners harbored resentment towards you for your extravagant lifestyle. None of the luxuries you enjoyed as empress were shared with the masses of the Caelum Empire. They remained trapped in poverty while you reveled in comfort, completely disconnected from their reality. It was no wonder you had incurred the wrath of Goddess Fortuna and Archangel Raphael.

And now, overwhelmed by compassion, you motioned for Milena to offer 50 celestas to the woman, who graciously accepted your gift. The sum would suffice for six months' worth of food supplies. Though you wished you could give more, your wealth was not infinite as the daughter of a duke. Nevertheless, it was the gesture that mattered, was it not?

As you and Milena continued to stroll through the plaza, you could sense the incredulous glances she would cast your way. It must have been strange for her to witness your kindness towards commoners, let alone your act of charity by giving away months worth of allowance to strangers.

“Is it the tea I served you the other morning, my lady?” she inquired, concerned. “You seem to be behaving differently, as if you have transformed into a completely different person.”

In your previous life, Milena’s straightforward comments would have resulted in punishment from you. However, in this timeline, you merely chuckled with her. “Life’s too fleeting to be evil all the time.”

Like an eager puppy, she nodded enthusiastically. “Indeed, my lady. Indeed! It brings me joy to see you embracing life in a different manner.”

If only she knew the hardships you had endured in the past, molding you into someone who viewed the world through a different lens in this present time. She would have been glad to see you become an empress, but she would be horrified to know the amount of souls that died by your hands alone. 

You were lost in contemplation throughout the afternoon, and you wandered aimlessly around the city, immersing yourself fully in the lives of the common folk until dusk began to descend. Just as you were about to make your way back to your carriage, a larger one passed by, adorned in white and blue with the imperial insignia proudly displayed.

Today heralded the return of Princess Savina from The Providence. She was the sister of Crown Prince Satoru and the infamous Caelum princess who had tragically perished alongside her lover, Prince Megumi of Astheryn.

Her tragic demise was also the beginning of Satoru’s descent to tyranny. 

That could only mean one thing: the true story was just about to unfold. 

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You felt unsettled. 

Princess Savina’s return marked not only a significant turning point, but also served as a stark reminder of the events that had unfolded in your previous life. Her tragic death had set off a chain reaction of calamities. After her illicit romance with an Astherean prince was exposed, a devastating war broke out and claimed the deaths of innocent citizens. Shortly after, the prince and princess' dead bodies were discovered in the Sistine Chapel. While the conflict might have concluded with an armistice, it was also the catalyst for Satoru’s path to seizing the throne with your helping hand. It was this very moment that laid the groundwork for Satoru's eventual usurpation of the throne. 

Soon after, Satoru’s ascension to power would be imminent, with you standing by his side as his chosen empress. He would eliminate every traitor you had identified, while you exacted vengeance upon those who had wronged you prior to your rise to an imperial status. Yet, despite your unwavering loyalty and dedication, Satoru never truly trusted or loved you as his wife, ultimately leading to his betrayal in the end.

How could you stand still and watch history repeat itself? 

You had to have a plan. You had to devise a scheme wise enough to change the course of your life. And perhaps, befriending Savina might be the key. She might have a chance to live if her affair with the Astherean prince remained undiscovered, averting the tragic chain of events that led to her demise. That way, Satoru would not harbor the desperation to usurp his parents. He would not ask you to orchestrate a coup, and make you his pathetic empress in return. In this life, you resolved to be repulsive enough in Satoru's eyes that he would be utterly disinterested in you, even if you were the last person on Earth. 

The plan seemed logical, yet simultaneously absurd. In your past life, you had strived with all your might to become Satoru's wife, yet now, you were doing everything in your power to avoid such a fate. Is this naught but a cruel game? You could not suppress a wry chuckle as you stared at your reflection in the mirror, the bright moonlight casting an illuminated glow upon you. It was enchanting yet horrifying at the same time to see a faint scar encircling your neck, a grim mark that reminded you of your previous fate as a beheaded empress. You were still uncertain whether you were the only one who could see the scar, but Milena had never seemed to notice it during your bathing rituals. Perhaps the scar would only manifest as a visible reminder of sin, and would fade with virtuous deeds. Your recent act of generosity towards the beggar, however, seemed to carry no weight in mitigating your previous unethical dealings with Maestro Giancarlo. It appeared that genuine acts of kindness were only truly rewarded when performed with sincerity, while any hint of selfishness nullified their positive effects.

You acknowledged that virtuousness was not inherently ingrained within you. While avoiding marriage to Satoru was your primary objective, the prospect of a life dedicated to serving the common people was not your desired path. As long as you refrained from inflicting suffering upon others, you saw no necessity in accumulating merits through good deeds. After all, your sole task, as directed by Archangel Raphael, was to atone for your sins, not to become a paragon of virtue. You were no saint. 

Three days had quickly passed since that night, and this day held a special occasion that had your heart pumping heavily the morning you woke up. Today, as accurate as your previous life, was the day of The Mass of Annunciation—a holy Catholic mass to celebrate when Archangel Gabriel appeared to the Virgin Mary and announced to her that she would conceive and give birth to the son of God, Jesus. 

The grandeur of the event was undeniable, and attendance was obligatory for all noble families of Caelum, given the devout nature of the empire’s populace. Moreover, the presence of the imperial Gojou family ensured the importance of the occasion. Yet, for you, stepping into Saint Peter's Basilica once more stirred nerves as memories flooded back from your time as an empress. Now, as a 20-year-old daughter of a duke, you entered the basilica beside your brother, Aristide, whose pompous demeanor drew the gaze of all noble ladies present. After all, he was the empire’s second most eligible bachelor after Satoru himself. In your first life, your brother had wed Lady Serena, and your relationship had soured when you declared him a traitor and accused him of treachery against your then-husband. Although Satoru had spared his life, he had decreed Aristide’s eventual exile, wary of the threat posed by a brother-in-law with ambitions for the throne.

The stark contrast between your current standing and your former eminence as an empress was palpable as you made your first public appearance in high society since your regression. No longer did heads turn and knees bend at the sight of you. Instead, you were regarded as a mere noblewoman, approaching the age where marriage prospects dwindled, and whispered rumors branded you as a woman with an unsavory fixation on the crown prince. It was a humbling experience, to say the least, and a reminder of the depths to which your reputation had fallen.

Despite no longer holding the title of empress, you spared no effort in your attire. You carried yourself with the same regal air, a testament to your upbringing and the lavish lifestyle afforded by your father. Your family not only produced the bravest knights, but also supported a prosperous weaponry business, which reflected your ostentatious way of life. That was why you had the means to wear a sumptuous gown of rich burgundy brocade, intricately woven with gold thread and adorned with delicate floral embroidery. You made certain that the modest neckline gracefully covered your neck to hide your revolting scar, while layers of sheer chiffon formed a voluminous skirt that cascades to your feet. Your hair was secured in a crespine, a delicate net-like veil adorned with lustrous pearls and sparkling gemstones, while around your neck hung a simple yet elegant silver cross pendant to add a touch of reverence.

In your eyes, you considered yourself a modest and conservative lady who was hesitant to reveal too much skin. However, your brother found it laughable, jesting that you might as well become a nun given how covered your chest and neckline were. He remarked that it was unusual for you to dress in such a reserved manner, as you had previously taken the initiative to wear attire that would attract Satoru’s manly gaze.

“Announcing the arrival of His and Her Imperial Highness, followed by His and Her Imperial Majesties—the luminaries of our empire.”  

As the imperial family arrived at the basilica, a hushed anticipation suddenly fell over the gathered crowd. The air was filled with a palpable sense of reverence and awe as the imposing façade of the basilica welcomed the presence of the empire’s highest authority.

First to enter were Princess Savina and Crown Prince Satoru, the heir and heiress to the throne, their regal presence commanding attention as they made their way down the grand procession. Princess Savina was resplendent in a gown of shimmering silk and a coronet as her headdress, while there he came… Your then-husband. Your ex-lover. Your betrayer. Crown Prince Satoru, clad in a tailored doublet of rich blue velvet, projecting an air of quiet strength and authority as he stared straight ahead towards the altar like he did in your past life. You had almost forgotten how princely handsome he was when he was younger, and you could not stop your frenzied heart as you felt somersaults in your stomach. No, you must not! It was all in the mind. It was all a matter of mind games, and this might be the first time you had seen Satoru again in real life after your regression, but he was still a man who had ordered to kill you. You should never be fooled by his luscious white hair and sky blue eyes. 

“In love?” whispered your brother, a smirk visible on his face. 

“Out of love,” you corrected and remained resolute in your goal not to get swayed by Satoru’s charm again. “I feel not a single thing.” 

Aristide scoffed at that. “Yet your eyes shine at the sight of him?” 

As the imperial siblings took their places at the head of the procession, the assembled congregation bowed their heads in deference as the imperial family proceeded to their seats and their every movement watched with rapt attention by the gathered nobility. Following closely behind were the Emperor and Empress, the reigning monarchs of the empire, their presence heralded by the sound of trumpets and the swell of sacred music.

You chose not to bicker with your brother throughout the holy mass, although there were times you were tempted to cuss him out. He seemed to be thoroughly enjoying himself, ridiculing your attire and insisting that Satoru would never pay you any attention. He took great pleasure in reminding you of the prince’s supposed revulsion towards your obsession, when little did your foolish brother know, you would be glad if that was in fact true. 

And the ironic thing was, in your previous life, you had done Aristide a great favor by marrying Satoru. This freed up Lady Serena for marriage, despite her supposed status as the crown prince’s favorite. You used to despise Serena out of sheer jealousy, while Aristide had always desired her, which was why your brother had urged you to win Satoru's affections to pave the way for him to marry the lady he so coveted.

In this life, you decided not to interfere in any potential relationship between Satoru and Serena, regardless of your brother’s wishes. You acknowledged that Serena would make a far superior empress than yourself, as she possessed enough empathy in her to prioritize the welfare of her people and avoid endangering them. She was not the type of person who would willingly bring about the destruction of an entire nation, nor would she welcome the spread of plague out of mere vengeance against her husband. 

With Satoru out of your plans, Savina then came into the picture. You had to speak and get close to her—close enough for her to trust you and befriend you, but not attached enough for you to act like her older sister. You would only be here to guide her and avoid her from the path of her downfall in order to save yourself. Savina was the key. 

Savina… Savina would be the one to save you in this life. Savina was your only hope. 

As the mass concluded, some of the nobles began to disperse, while others congregated in a corner to converse with the Archbishop. Your sole intention at that moment was to approach Savina, allowing your feet to lead you to the direction of where she was. But just before you reached her, you stumbled upon a very significant individual who had played a pivotal role in bringing about your suffering in your previous life.

It was none other than Satoru’s advisor, Lord Maximillian. 

“Lady Y/N, it is a delight to see you,” the man greeted, but you could see right through him. He never liked you now and in the past. In fact, his hatred stemmed from his peculiar fixation towards the imperial family. He may look younger presently, but he was still an old and rotten base-born cur. 

Maximilian was the one responsible for introducing Satoru to the prophecy, and he was also the individual who whispered your demise into your husband's ears. Given his role in your past suffering, why should you afford him any respect?

“It is rather surprising you had not burned inside the church,” you remarked acerbically, eliciting widened eyes from the nobleman. “Yet it does beg the question, Lord Maximilian, what brings a heretic like yourself inside a Catholic church?”

Within the confines of the basilica, or at least the space surrounding you, a variety of reactions unfolded. A noble lady shot you a disapproving stare for your perceived rudeness towards a man of higher nobility, while your brother regarded you with a mixture of astonishment and concern as if you had gone mad. Conversely, a young nobleman appeared impressed by your audacity.

As for Maximilian, it was rather amusing to observe the crimson hue that spread across his face. You anticipated his retort and braced yourself for his comeback. “Why, you foul-mouthed wench!” he exclaimed, his voice laden with indignation. “Who do you think you are speaking to?!”

You grinned triumphantly at your success in offending him. “You should be ashamed to show yourself in front of God—” you began, relishing the opportunity to further provoke him, but was cut short when a formidable presence appeared before you. 

The arctic white hair, the crystal blue eyes, the smooth ivory skin, the towering build from years of training… 

“Your Highness,” Maximilian immediately curtsied before the prince, while you remained frozen in place. Like a statue. “Your Highness, this young lady is preposterous!” 

On one hand, Satoru’s eyes bathed in humor as he observed the interaction between you and Maximilian. This was the first time you two had faced each other since the regression, and the emotions stirred within you were still raw. You were husband and wife when you last saw each other. You could still remember the last time you saw him the night before your execution, when he visited you in the West Tower and asked you to live a solitary life in the countryside as his mistress. Your heart seemed to constrict in your chest, yet simultaneously, it pounded loudly with anticipation. 

“Max, it seems the lady has labeled you a heretic,” the Crown Prince remarked, his gaze unwavering as he focused on you. “Can you substantiate your accusations, Lady Y/N?” he inquired, prompting you to defend your claims.

Satoru, you fool. If you were to reveal what happened in your previous life, he would be an accomplice to the crime. He carried the highest position in the empire at the time, yet he was a supporter of heresy himself. That alone would have brought him into Inquisition. 

You could not think straight. Oh for heaven’s sake! You could not focus. Could not breathe. Could not speak. Your thoughts were flooded by memories of your past life; of Satoru claiming you were useless for being barren, of him refusing to acknowledge your child, of him planning to wed another woman after the years you had devoted to him, of him ruthlessly ordering your execution. 

Of him never saying he loved you. 

Before you realized it, tears welled up in your eyes. You were utterly unprepared to encounter him today, let alone engage in conversation, especially while the wounds from your past were still so raw. Some wounds had yet to heal, and the mere sight of him brought them flooding back.

And with your unexpected reaction, his expression softened and morphed into one of genuine concern. Why? Why was he suddenly concerned now when he spent years of being an ungrateful husband? His smile had long vanished, replaced by a look of worry after seeing you on the verge of breaking down. However, before the tears could spill, you turned and fled, unable to bear the thought of crying in front of a man like him.

“Hold on, Lady Y/N—!”

His voice called out to you, but you refused to look back. No, you were determined to only keep moving forward, to distance yourself from the man who had caused you so much pain. Therefore, you hastily fled the basilica, seeking solace amidst the throng of nobles who were crowding outside. 

As you ran, tears streamed down your face unchecked, yet you let it be. The ache in your heart was unbearable, knowing that the man you had once loved so deeply now had the power to hurt you all over again. Only when you found a secluded spot beneath a stone pine tree did you collapse, clutching your chest as you recalled the face of the man who had caused you so much anguish.

I despise you, Satoru. 

“How could you betray me like that?” you murmured, tears staining your cheeks as you sobbed beneath the tree, feeling utterly pathetic.

Suddenly, a shadow fell over you, and as you looked up, you saw a man with dark hair clad in shining armor. His smile was gentle as he approached and crouched down beside you.

“My lady.” It was the Knight Commander, Yuuta, offering you his handkerchief. “Is everything alright?”

[saintobio]

option 1. accidental pregnancy trope with music producer/band drummer sukuna, who already has a 4 year-old daughter with his supermodel ex-fiancée. the entire world ships them together and he’s still heavily hung up on her, but he fulfills his obligation as a father to your baby and lets you live in secrecy at his house.

option 2. curse au in a tangled mess of a love triangle with satosugu, where you’re foolishly in love with an oblivious gojo, while geto is secretly in love with you. gojo never returned the favor, and geto becomes your go-to person whenever things don’t go too well between you and your white-haired crush.

[saintobio]

LONG LIVE THE VILLAINESS !

amidst the tale of sweetest love and bitterest revenge, the fallen empress is cast back ten years into the past to correct her sins and avoid eternal damnation, even at the price of betraying her once husband, the very cause of her downfall.

♱ pairings. gojo satoru, fem!reader

♱ genre. enemies-to-lovers, period piece, medieval au

♱ tags. ooc, regression, crown prince!gojo, noble lady!reader, politics, classism, clan wars, religion (catholicism), misogyny, violence, war, rebellion, suggestive, smut, gore, double life, explicit language, more to be added

♱ notes. this fic draws heavy inspirations from the webnovel ‘sister, i am the queen in this life’ and manhwa of the same name. it’s basically a fanfic of that series bc i am obsessed with it :’D

♱ status. on-going (slow updates)

♱ THIS SERIES WILL SERVE AS THE THE SECOND TIMELINE -> READ HERE FOR THE FIRST TIMELINE (ORIGINAL STORY) ♱

PROLOGUE.

ACT I. THE LADY

ACT II. THE CROWN PRINCE

ACT III. THE KNIGHT

ACT IV. THE STAR CROSSED LOVERS

ACT V. THE BLESSED

ACT VI. THE SIN

ACT VII. THE REVELATION

ACT VIII. THE ENEMY

ACT IX. THE LOVER

ACT X. THE EMPRESS

EPILOGUE.

PROLOGUE 

Like plunging beneath the surface of water and then, abruptly, breaking through to the air above—your body jolted as if awakening in a new world altogether. You drew in a long breath, your eyes fluttering open to reveal the ceiling, both familiar yet unfamiliar in its greeting. Swiftly, you surveyed your surroundings, noting with growing recognition the confines of your old room within the De Roma estate. The estate! 

You were not in the palace of Caelum, but in the estate of House De Roma. A surge of realization flooded through you as you dashed towards the nearest mirror, confronting your reflection with wide, startled eyes. 

No... could it be... that you have returned to your body, ten years prior?!

In the mirror, the reflection staring back at you was not that of the notorious wife of the tyrant Emperor Satoru, but of a 20-year-old maiden, the eldest daughter of Duke de Roma, with fuller cheeks and a more youthful appearance. You could not shake the feeling of disbelief, wondering if this was all just a dream, so you reached out to touch your arms and felt the flesh beneath your fingers, trying to convince yourself that this was an unexpected reality.

Oh, you were back. You found yourself returned to your former self, a decade younger, but now armed with the knowledge of your past life's actions and their consequences. Alongside this newfound understanding, the gift of clairvoyance had also been bestowed upon you.

And for what? Why had the heavens above returned you to your body? Was it for revenge, a second chance, or perhaps punishment?

Suddenly, a loud, deafening sound pierced your ears, and a blinding white light enveloped your vision. Your body became as still as a statue, and it felt as though your soul was transported to a fourth dimension where divine intervention seemed a lot more plausible to exist.

As your soul hovered in the liminal space between life and death, you found yourself standing before a figure cloaked in billowing robes, her presence commanding and her gaze piercing. This figure was Fortuna, the ancient Caelan goddess of fortune and fate, her visage austere and unforgiving.

“Are you aware of the sins that stain your soul?” 

“Have you felt the weight of your transgressions, the consequences of your actions that have wrought suffering upon your people and brought ruin to your empire?”

Her voice echoed through the realm with the divine judgment that weighed upon your conscience, while her gaze penetrated to the core of your being and demanded honesty and accountability in the face of your past misdeeds.

“Will you atone for your sins?” 

“Will you seize this opportunity for redemption, or will you squander it in self-pity and remorse?”

As you stood in the presence of the ancient goddess, grappling with the heaviness of your sins and the daunting task ahead, a brilliant light had all of a sudden illuminated the space around you. From the heart of this radiant glow emerged the figure of Archangel Raphael, his presence heralded by a chorus of angelical voices and the stirring of celestial winds.

Clad in robes that seemed to shimmer with the intensity of celestial light, Archangel Raphael's presence commanded attention, his wings unfurled behind him in a display of resolute authority. If Goddess Fortuna was intimidating, the archangel was fearsome all the more. His gaze, intense and penetrating, swept over you with a gravity that left no room for evasion or deceit.

“Empress of Caelum,” he spoke, his tone firm and unyielding, and his voice carrying a billion years of heavenly existence, “You stand accused of grievous sins, crimes that have shaken the very foundations of your empire and brought suffering upon your people.”

There was no trace of softness in Archangel Raphael's demeanor, no room for mercy in the face of wrongdoing. His presence was a testament to the uncompromising nature of divine justice, his strictness a reflection of the solemn duty entrusted to him as an Archangel of the Almighty. This, no doubt, was the face of a true and formidable executor of justice.

And you, the subject, had angered the divine beings that guarded the Caelan Empire, so much so that God himself sent the goddess of the land and one of his archangels to mitigate your rightful punishment.

“By the decree of the Almighty, you are granted a second chance to amend your sins and redeem your soul. You shall return to the mortal realm, to live your life anew and correct the sins that have stained your soul.”

“Should you fail to rectify your past transgressions, should you stray from the path of righteousness and succumb once more to the temptations of darkness, know that the consequences shall be severe and eternal.”

“For those who squander the gift of divine mercy shall be cast into the deepest depths of hell, where they shall endure a punishment of unending torment and suffering.”

In the presence of Archangel Raphael and Goddess Fortuna’s equally stern gazes, you were keenly aware of the magnitude of your transgressions and the severity of the judgment that awaited you. But even as you trembled beneath the weight of their scrutiny, you knew that their presence also offered you the opportunity for redemption, with your only task to prove yourself worthy of divine mercy.

Indeed, it was by your very hands that hundreds and thousands of Christian souls shed their blood. Innocent lives, both young and old, were cruelly taken at your command. The citizens of Caelum who fell sick from the spread of the plague. The esteemed Caelan advisors of your husband’s primogenitors, skinned alive and speared in pikes by the Tiber River. The wrongly accused maid who suffered the indignity of serving your husband, paraded unclothed through the streets and subjected to the brutality of the pear of anguish. The gallant and dignified knight, tortured mentally and physically in the atrocious dungeon. Now, you find yourself thrust back into the horrors of your former life ten years hence. A life of a noble lady who ought not to be blinded by her destructive love for the empire’s crown prince. 

Yet, could you truly navigate this life without ascending to the position as his empress?

As you tried to commune with the divine beings afore you, a haze in your vision transported you away from the heavenly space, realizing that you were already drawn back into the reality of your chamber, inhabiting the youthful frame of a twenty-year-old daughter of a duke. You found yourself too astonished to move, too shaken to speak, and too afraid to take any action in this new lease of life blessed upon you. At that very moment, your state of reverie was disrupted at the arrival of your maid, who entered your chamber in a humble servant garb.

Milena. The maid whose life was cut short by your hand in your past existence due to petty thievery. “My lady,” she spoke with a hint of respect and urgency, unaware of the ill-fate you had given her in your past life, “A visitor has arrived at the gates and requests an audience with you. Shall I show them in?” 

Too soon? Need it truly be so soon to engage with the people from your past life immediately after awakening to your old, yet younger body? Gazing upon your maid through the mirror, you asked, “Who is that intruder you speak of?” 

She bowed her head, her stance shifting into one of apologetic deference. The way she firmly stood by your door was a message to you that the intruder was not someone you could easily reject the presence of.

“The visitor is His Highness, Crown Prince Satoru.” 

⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶♱⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

[saintobio]

SAINT’S ROYAL AUs / PERIOD PIECES.

MEDIEVAL PERIOD (MIDDLE AGES).

♱ romeo + juliet, fushiguro megumi. one-shot.

tragedy, forbidden love, early modern & modern english

♱ long live the villainess, gojo satoru. series.

regression, enemies-to-lovers, modern english

RENAISSANCE ERA.

♱ as you like it, gojo satoru. one-shot.

tragedy, revenge, early modern english

BAROQUE ERA.

♱ of lovers and liars, suna rintaro. mini-series.

tragedy, polygyny, play, archaic english

ROCOCO PERIOD.

♱ tbd

REGENCY ERA.

♱ felines, gojo satoru. one-shot.

comedy, fantasy, modern english

VICTORIAN ERA.

♱ ace of spades, various. mini-series.

isekai, reverse harem, modern english

EDWARDIAN ERA.

♱ titanic, okkotsu yuuta. one-shot. (coming soon)

tragedy, strangers-to-lovers, modern english

[saintobio]

blank canvas. (2)

after offering a painful ultimatum to finally be enough for him, things ultimately get worse as he decides between keeping you or losing you as the only resolution.

pairings. ryōmen sukuna, fem!reader

genre. florist x tattoo artist au, mild angst, opposites attract

tags/warnings. strong language, defloration (kinda), explicit smut, undertones of manipulation and gaslighting, toxic relationship, undertones of cheating

notes. 11.2k wc! thanks for the love on bc1, i didn't expect it to gain traction at all but tyty. last part will come soon, but that will be the final chapter to this mini-series.

part 1 | part 3

The ride back home was uncomfortable. 

It wasn’t because you had promised to give yourself to him that night, but rather because his uncharacteristic silence was not what you had expected after delivering your ultimatum. You already proposed a wonderful solution to his needs, so why was he acting like you were the one being ridiculous? This was why you hated it whenever Sukuna chose silence over open communication, as it left you a hard time guessing about what was running through his mind. His expression didn’t offer any clues either, because he did pretty well at concealing his emotions behind a facade of indifference.

When you said you would do it with him, you meant it. But what did he think of it? 

The sharp wind cut through your skin, the roar of his motorbike deafening your ears as your boyfriend accelerated his vehicle upon entering the tunnel. The vibrant yellow lights offered a cinematic view, tempting you to imagine yourself embracing the wind with open arms, though you knew better than to do so. Instead, you held onto him tightly, wrapping your arms around his waist and leaning forward as he sped through the empty lane.

It was nearing midnight, and the sparse traffic allowed Sukuna to indulge in one of his habits: riding his bike in the late hours of the night through this particular tunnel and onto the highway. You knew this ritual helped him clear his mind since it offered a rush of danger that sharpened his focus on the road. His choice to take this route tonight also only confirmed to you that he was grappling with internal thoughts. The last time he rode this fast was when your parents made you choose between them and him, slapping it in his face that he was and would never be welcomed in your family. 

To be honest, it frightened you. The speed at which he was riding was dangerous for both of you. Moreover, his bike was a YZF-R1, although street-legal, it was still a high-performance sport bike more suited for the track. It required agile and precise handling with its 1000cc engine. Yet, no other vehicle seemed more fitting for Sukuna than this. 

Whatever was on his mind, he didn’t care to let you know. You two didn’t really speak throughout the ride while you clung to him like a backpack, praying in your head that you two wouldn’t get into an accident. Thankfully enough, he did safely take you home as you arrived at your shared apartment at exactly midnight. 

“Please don’t ride like that again,” you muttered as he helped you out of his motorbike. “You could’ve gotten us killed.” 

His fingers then reached to unclasp your helmet, pulling it up to reveal your face. “Well, we’re still alive.” 

You looked at his face despite his best effort to avoid yours, standing centimeters apart while he switched off the engine. He didn’t return your gaze as though he was drowned by guilt. Should you speak at this? Or should you let him do it first? 

“Baby.” After a minute or so, it was your boyfriend who sighed and finally gave in, pulling you close and resting his forehead against yours. He kept his eyes closed even when he was cupping your cheeks. “You don’t have to do this.” 

Yes, you certainly shouldn’t. You didn’t have to do things unwillingly, but that wouldn’t change the fact that this on-going issue was putting a strain on your relationship and this would be your last shot at trying to salvage it. And you couldn’t have him looking for sensual gratification from anyone else other than you, so what other option did you have, really? 

“I want to do it.” 

“Not if you’re forcing yourself like this.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Who said I’m forcing myself?”

“Your face tells me you are,” replied he, staring at your face in defeat. “So, let’s not—”

“What, and let this issue haunt us over and over?” You smiled bitterly, shaking your head adamantly. “This has to be done. I need to experience it so I’ll finally understand.”

Understand what? His face almost spelled out those words, but he chose not to say anything of the sort and instead leaned in to kiss your forehead. “Alright. I’ll make it memorable.” 

— —

Easier said than done, of course. You kept overthinking about whether your performance would be satisfactory to him given that you didn’t have enough experience to learn anything at all, aside from the make out sessions that you did once in a blue moon. Around thirty minutes of your time was spent hyperanalyzing your situation in the shower, while the other half of it was spent doing a little more than your nightly routines. Since Sukuna liked powdery scents, you placed a good effort in applying lavender-scented oil and perfume on every inch of your body. You also shaved any unwanted hair, especially on all the intimate places you knew he would be seeing. And by the time you were done, you stepped out of the bathroom blooming like a fresh flower, wrapped in nothing but a thin towel that hugged your womanly figure. 

It didn’t feel right at all. It didn’t feel good knowing that you were preparing yourself like that, when these things should only happen on the first night after your wedding. It didn’t feel great that you were going to lose your virginity to a man who had not even proposed to you. This wasn’t even your honeymoon, but you had to pretend like it was. 

Did Sukuna feel the same? 

He wasn’t lying in bed when you walked out of the bathroom. Instead, he had just returned from outside—shirtless, wearing his favorite gray sweatpants, and holding a box of condoms and a tube of lube in his hand. It was clear he had made a quick visit to the convenience store nearby and got the essentials for your first night.

Immediately, he eyed your towel-wrapped body with restrained lust, clearing his throat as he walked towards the nightstand. “You look nice.” 

Really? Did he really have to make this more awkward than it already was? 

“Thank you,” was all you could softly reply. It was funny how he pretended to be busy placing the box and tube above the bedside table instead of lunging at you like a desperate man. But because you wanted to get this over with, you were the one who approached him from behind, wrapping your arms around his waist, and touching the firmness of his abs. For someone who had zero experience, you were definitely trying hard enough and that should please him. “You have to help me out here, my love. Guide me.” 

When Sukuna turned around, your heart started racing. Of excitement? Maybe. Of anxiety? Perhaps. He made it better though when he finally caved in and looked straight into your eyes, tucking a few strands of hair behind your ear before lifting your chin with his hand. “You smell extra nice, too,” he added, leaning close enough that you could feel his warm breath fanning your face. 

You were feeling it now. The equal lust. The carnal desire. The feeling of his sweet kisses, which he made true as soon as he crashed his lips onto yours. His kisses usually ranged from tender to rough, but this time, it was an altogether different type of kiss. It was passionate and demonstrative, as if showing you exactly what he had been wanting to do to you the first time you got together. This must be the result of being celibate in over a year. He was clearly a man deprived of sexual pleasure, and you were responsible for it. You actually turned him into a monk. 

Now, he wasn’t holding anything back anymore. With his hand on your nape, he deepened the kiss to the point where you could feel his tongue exploring your mouth. You followed whatever he was doing like a good girl, like a very good girl, as he completely devoured your mouth with his. It didn’t take long for him to advance his kisses in other places too, being your jawline his next target, and then your neck as he feathered kisses around the soft flesh, leaving marks that would need a few days to be concealed. 

Because his arms were tight around your waist, yours were locked around his neck. Where else should you be putting them? What does the girl usually do in this situation? You tried not to think much of it and listened to your own body while your boyfriend was sucking the skin around your collarbone. At first, your hand traced his toned chest, then it moved southwards to feel his abs, and further down to his…

“Y-You’re hard.” Your eyes widened as you felt his growing erection behind the fabric of his sweatpants. It wasn’t your first time seeing his boner, but it was the first time you touched it with your own hand. It was the first time you had your palm stroking his length, swallowing hard as you realized just how hard and thick he was. 

“It wants to be inside you,” he whispered through your mouth, kissing you back again, “so bad, baby.” 

Gosh. Your knees felt weak and you two hadn’t even really started yet. How much more when he starts putting that thing of his inside you? You were breathing hard, trying to catch air as your boyfriend continued to lap his tongue with yours, guiding your hand to continue fondling his wood while it grew bigger the more stimulated it got. By letting you touch his hardened crotch together with his own, you realized that you had just unlocked a newfound fetish of yours. “D-Do you… do you think about doing it with me often?”

He bit your lower lip before pulling away, animalistic eyes sending you into an orbit of pleasure. “Do you mean if I touch myself to the thought of you a lot?” he teased, chuckling darkly at the obvious heat on your cheeks. You couldn’t help but feel excited at how vulgar he could be with his words. “I do jack off a lot, angel. And it’s always you in my mind.” 

You didn’t even have the time to melt from his words, because before you knew it, he was already peeling the towel off your body to reveal your completely naked figure. Obviously, your first reaction was to get shy—with your heated cheeks, your inability to look him in the eyes, your little efforts in covering your breasts and crotch, but he made sure to pull your hands away while keeping his eyes on you. “…Don’t stare.” 

Sukuna, however, didn’t listen. His dark eyes scanned every curve of your body, particularly around your chest area before he sighed and threw his head back. “Fuck,” he cussed under his breath. “You’re so fucking sexy. I can’t believe no other punk has seen you like this.” 

Your confidence grew little by little because of his praises. “But isn’t that a good thing?” 

“For sure.” He almost laughed at his own words, more so in disbelief, before he reached out to touch your bosom. “No one can touch you like this, either, baby.” 

“That’s—”

“Hmm?” Your boyfriend smirked at your reaction. While his other hand went to squeeze your breast, the other traveled to your bum, squeezing the cheek with equal fervor. “Can I have a taste of you, baby?”

He fondled your breasts with both hands now, massaging the rounded mass like they were his property. You had to admit to yourself that the feeling of being touched actually transcended your expectations. Or maybe it was only because of how erotic it was, but you couldn’t deny how turned on you were as his veiny, manly hands cupped your bosom. 

And as soon as you nodded and permitted him to ‘taste’ you, he took no time in gently pushing you down the mattress, allowing you to lay at a comfortable position under him and his wanton stare. Taste you? He was more like eating you, when he pinned you against the mattress and sucked the skin on your chest. At first, his tongue rolled along your cleavage, inching closer and closer to your right breast while he had his hand squeezing the left. Your body naturally gravitated towards him as you arched your back so he could have better access to your chest. Not only your chest, but also your crotch as he started grinding his clothed manhood in between your folds. 

“Mm…”

Sukuna’s mouth was on your breast now, suckling on your flesh and playing his tongue around your nipple. You couldn’t tell if it was pleasurable or painful because his tongue felt ticklish on your skin, but the suction definitely was an entirely different feeling. Both weren’t bad, anyway. They were just new to you. But even if they were foreign, you were curious and all the more interested, studying every little thing he was doing with your body and trying to make mental notes out of it. 

Maybe you should have watched porn. That way, you could have been more aware of the step-by-step process of having sex. Who knew there were steps to follow at all? You didn’t think that foreplay could draw this much delay in your session because all you thought was that he was going to insert his cock straight inside you as soon as he saw you naked. 

With all the touching, fondling, and kissing… what were you supposed to do? He was doing all the work here. 

“Baby,” you spoke softly, staring at the ceiling, “C-Can I… touch you?” 

Instead of pulling away, his mouth latched onto your left boob, giving it the same attention before moving south. “Not yet.” 

When he said that, you didn’t expect his hand to land on your crotch. Your heart was thumping at an irregular rhythm as you felt his fingers moving in circles around your bud, playing with your clit before spreading your folds apart. “Nghh—!” you let out an embarrassingly loud moan, eyes widening at the sound of your voice, but your boyfriend shushed you by placing a peck on your lips before spreading your legs into a V. 

“You’re so wet,” he said, pointing out the obvious as he positioned himself in between your legs, spreading your labia to reveal your entrance. Something about the situation made you increasingly self-conscious, but his undeniably hungry gaze kept you from covering your most sensitive area. It seemed like he was enjoying the sight of your pussy, especially with how wet and ‘untouched’ it was. “Your pussy’s so pretty, baby,” he mumbled, lowering his face closer to the area, “Can’t wait to put my dick inside it.” 

You whimpered at the feeling of his tongue in between your folds. No, you couldn’t even think straight after he started teasing your vagina, alternating between flicking his tongue around your bud to french kissing your entrance. His tongue was so deep in your cavern that you were raising your hips involuntarily, going insane from the pleasure it sent your body. Your hands even gripped the sheets and your back arched into a C as you held back from moaning like a wild animal. At some point, the slurping sounds and the feeling of his mouth kissing your vagina had your legs shaking. 

Though, you could ask yourself: what turned you on the most? Was it him actually eating your pussy or just the idea of him doing it? 

And just when you thought he was done, he replaced his mouth by inserting a finger inside your cunt, garnering a much louder whimper out of you. “B-Baby!”

“Does it hurt?” he asked, eyes locked with yours as he slowly moved his middle finger in and out. “It’s so tight.” 

“It hurts…” You nodded, feeling his finger moving in circles inside your cunt as though he was trying to get a feel of your walls, measuring the tightness and such. 

He kissed you for a good minute. “Relax, angel. Don’t clench too much.” 

Clench? You didn’t even know you were doing such a thing. “How to…?” 

“Just relax.” Sukuna placed a hand on your abdomen, pressing it down while he was inserting yet another finger inside of you. “This’ll help you prepare so it won’t hurt as much later.” 

Now, you were goddamn nervous. What did he mean it wouldn’t hurt as much? Because you were overthinking the pain of having him his actual cock inside of you. If you couldn’t even bear having his two fingers inside you, how much more with his clearly thick shaft? It was ridiculous to feel both anxious and yet aroused at the same time. Anxious, because you knew he could rip you open. Aroused, because his fingers were currently doing a great job at hitting your most sensitive spot. Whatever it was that he was reaching, it was certainly sending waves of ecstasy throughout your body. 

His fingers continued to move. In. Out. In. Out. In. Out. Around. When he pulled his digits out, he sucked the juices on them, tasting every drip of your essence from his fingers. “Sweet.”

Were you? You started to get curious at how he tasted, too. Sweet? Salty? Bitter? You seemed to be moving on autopilot when you pulled yourself up and sat in bed on your knees. “Your turn?” 

You asked the question as if you knew what you were doing, which was why Sukuna found it adorable and humorous at the same time. He did help you pull down the sweatpants that had been covering his erection for what felt like eternity, only to reveal a monstrous size that sprung out of the garment. 

Holy fuck was all you could say. 

He stood at the edge of the bed, a devilish smirk displayed on his saintly face as he saw the length of his cock compared to your face. You obviously hadn’t seen many cocks in your lifetime to be able to compare his size, but in your eyes, he was definitely big. He was girthy. He was lengthy. He was veiny. Meaty. 

“Wanna suck it for me, baby?” he encouraged, pumping his shaft while looking at you. Fuck. “Open your mouth.” 

You did as told, wrapping a hand at the base of his length while placing his tip on your mouth. You pressed your tongue flat on the surface of his tip, rolling your tongue around the head as if it were a lollipop. Was that what you were supposed to do?

“Eyes on me.” His voice deepened an octave. And it was also raspier. 

Why did he want you to look up at him? It was already embarrassing. 

“I said, eyes on me, angel.” He grabbed your chin and forced you to lock eyes with his darkened ones. Damn. No wonder girls were desperate to see him in his shop every single day. This was probably what they had been daydreaming about. “Suck my cock.” 

In your head, you became a slut. In reality, you were still a shy, inexperienced virgin who didn’t know what to do. You relied on his instructions and looked at his expressions to know if you were doing a good job and to see what he liked and didn’t like. He definitely liked it when you sucked the head, liked it even more when you started to let him go deeper in your mouth, and surely liked it a hell lot better when you gagged after his cock hit the back of your throat. But in spite of the string of saliva that left your mouth after gagging from his cock, his arousal only grew harder, this time holding your hair in his fist as he began thrusting his hip forward. You were bobbing your head at a rhythm that satisfied him, feeling the stretch on your scalp as he tightened his grip on your hair. 

“Tighten your mouth around it,” he instructed, fucking your mouth senselessly like hitting your throat was driving him nuts. Your eyes were already filling up with tears because of your urge to gag again, but you didn’t think it would be a good idea to stop now while he was just starting to pleasure himself. 

This was the first time in your life to give someone a blowjob, and you weren’t sure what to make of that experience. It personally didn’t give you pleasure, but you liked hearing his desperate moans. You liked hearing him curse and get vulgar with his words. You liked seeing him get rough. His taste, on the other hand, was somewhat a different experience. Since you were only sucking his flesh, it was a tad bit salty at first contact but didn’t taste anything much after tongue got used to the skin around his shaft. Perhaps his cum would have a stronger flavor, though it looked like he had no plans in releasing his load into your mouth as he pulled his member out. 

“Fuck it,” he grunted, gently pushing you back and spreading your legs wide open again, “I wanna feel your pussy so bad. Can I fuck you raw, babe?” 

All those condoms, and he wanted to have you raw? 

“But… I don’t wanna get pregnant.” 

His face was full of assurance, shaking his head and denying any chance of knocking you up. “You won’t be. I’ll pull out, I just… I have to feel you raw the first time. I have to.�� 

“Okay…” 

You were nervous as hell. You had butterflies in your stomach, your heart pounding in your chest like a drumbeat you couldn’t silence. You had imagined this moment countless times, but now that it was here, the reality of it was too overwhelming. Your mind yet again raced with a whirlwind of doubts and insecurities, and every nerve on your body seemed to be on high alert while you watched him getting occupied with rubbing his entire length with lube, ensuring a smooth entrance inside you. 

He was nervous too, right? You couldn’t be the only one. You couldn’t be. 

You just wanted everything to be perfect. To show him how much you cared. To feel that you were enough. But the thought was paralyzing. Tonight was more than just physical intimacy; it was a step forward in your relationship, a moment of connection you wanted so badly to cherish. This first intimate encounter should be filled with love, respect, and mutual understanding. 

But what if after this, he’d come to realize that you weren’t the one? What if he’d get disappointed and tell you that you weren’t worth it? What if he’d leave you for someone else who could pleasure him better? What if, after you had given yourself to him, no one else would ever appreciate you anymore? 

You wanted this, didn’t you? You wanted to feel the heat of his touch, the intensity of his gaze, the intimacy of your connection. You wanted to explore this uncharted territory with him, to dive headfirst into the unknown and discover what lay on the other side. But were you really ready for this? Did you truly want this? Would it be everything you had imagined, or would you regret losing your virginity to him?

The fear of inadequacy gnawed at your confidence as Sukuna positioned himself back in between you, his tip rubbing at your slit a couple times before he finally sunk it into your entrance. 

“Haaa—!” 

“Shh. It’s okay, it’s gonna be okay.”

“N-No, I—!”

It felt like your walls were being stretched so painfully, like your flesh was being torn open in the most agonizing way. This was not the kind of pain you pictured out when he put his member inside. Sukuna even tried to grab hold of your hips to keep you steady, but you were withdrawing your hips back, wanting nothing but for him to remove his cock. 

“It hurts… It hurts… please, stop. Please!” 

“Baby, I’m trying to be gentle—”

“I SAID STOP!” 

Both of your eyes widened at the same time, and that was the only time you two were ever in sync. He was clearly shocked by your outburst, while you yourself were surprised at how you raised your voice at him. Neither of you expected that situation. As a result, he did pull away and completely withdrew himself from you. 

Frustration was evident on his visage and he couldn’t even hide it anymore. “Fuck this,” he spat in exasperation, taking a deep breath as he reached to slip his sweatpants back on. “I knew it.” 

“No, I…” You swallowed. “It just… You kinda forced it, I wasn’t ready.” 

“I forced it, really? I forced you?” His laugh was out of complete disbelief. “I never forced you into anything, angel. I’ve asked you since the beginning if this is really what you want.” He took a pause, a very uncomfortable one, before he went on murmuring, “It was just my tip and you’re overreacting like this. I’m not even halfway in.”

His agitation had finally awakened you to your senses, realizing that you did end up doing what you were scared of doing. You ruined the moment. You were so caught up in your bubble of negative thoughts that you had once again failed to fulfill what you were supposed to do. No wonder he was aggravated, now sitting away from you and wearing his clothes as if telling you that he was done. Done being blue balled by his own girlfriend. Done expecting something he was never really bound to have. 

You reached out to touch his arm. “Baby, I’m sorry… I just got scared, but we can still—”

“Still do it?” he continued your sentence by ironically cutting you off, “No, the fuck, I won’t. I’m not in the mood anymore.” 

His reaction brought tears to your eyes, because the way he was acting stung your fragile heart. You didn’t mean to ruin anything. More importantly, you didn’t wish for everything to just turn out like this. “I-I’m sorry. Let me try again, please.” 

The weakness of your voice seemed to have softened him, becoming calmer and more composed after a few minutes of contemplation, but he still held his ground when he massaged his temple and sighed. “Let’s just not push it, Y/N.” He looked at your eyes, with hurt and rejection reflecting on them. “Even if you say you wanna do it, you think I can’t see it in your face that you’re not really into it? You’re never ready for me and maybe it’s my fault, maybe there’s something about me that you’re so scared of. Maybe it’s because you don’t feel secure with me, maybe you wanna save yourself for someone better, someone who can give you a brighter future—”

“That’s not true!” You shook your head desperately, your eyes blurring from the pool of tears while you clung to his arm. Where was all this coming from? It sounded like he had been harboring those feelings for so long. “That’s not true. What are you even saying?” 

“I don’t even know what I’m saying. I’m just…” Trying to give a reason why you won’t give it to me. That must be what he had wanted to say. “Look, I don’t wanna pressure you into this bullshit anymore. I don’t wanna make it look like I’m begging for your affection like this. Intimacy should happen normally for couples, and if we can’t have that, then we can’t. That’s it.” 

Why did he sound like he was giving up? 

You tried to keep your emotions at bay while listening to him battling with his internal thoughts. “I understand I disappointed you tonight, but…”

He was adamant at shaking his head, distancing himself from you by getting up from the bed. “No, you got nothin’ to apologize for. It’s your body and your choice. I’d never force you into anything.” 

Then… then…

“I just think it’s not the perfect time,” he continued, shooting you a glance before looking away. Each step he took added another crack on your fragile heart. “From now on, I’m never gonna initiate anything intimate nor will I expect anything from you, aight? I’m over it.”

Alone in your vulnerability, you could feel the cold air hugging your naked body as you watched him walk towards the door, leaving you in the dark both literally and figuratively. “Where a-are you going? Come on… Please.” 

He no longer cared to turn around. He no longer bothered to comfort you as he walked away, muttering, “Just gonna go for a ride. Don’t wait on me.” 

— —

Nearly three weeks had passed since that night and you would be lying if you said everything was okay. 

No, everything was not okay. You could feel the distance growing each day even when you two still did everything together. Your normal routines didn’t feel normal anymore because he was acting too detached ever since he told you that he wouldn’t initiate anything intimate ever again. And to be honest? It hurt. A whole fucking lot. Hearing your partner say that they would never wish to do anything intimate with you was probably the worst way to experience heartbreak. Because he was truthful with it, and he showed it very openly. 

Now, he’d lock the door whenever he would take showers. He’d spent most of his time outside riding his bike until midnight. He stopped texting you sweet messages while on tattoo shop duty. He seldomly joined you to eat breakfast and dinner together. His back would face you whenever you two slept in bed. His eyes avoided you even when you walked around in underwear. His hand wouldn’t touch you even when you were centimeters close to him. There were no kisses exchanged either, unless obliged to do so when leaving the house. No hugs. No hair-stroking, hand-holding sweetness ever shared. You were simply cohabiting in your shared apartment like strangers who had barely even said I love you’s. 

“Man, that’s rough,” remarked Suguru Getou, your cousin and the barista, as he tidied up the counter behind the elevated bar. Having just served his friend an Americano, he listened intently as you vented about your situation with Sukuna. “I’ll be honest with you, Y/N. It’s not looking good for you.”

You knew that. You just refused to acknowledge it. “I mean, all couples fight.” 

Suguru shook his head, however. “You two aren’t even fighting. Dude just gave up and started detaching himself from you. If that’s not a sign already, then I don’t know what is.” 

“What sign?” you asked, hiding the obvious worry in your voice. You need not be dense about his words, but you wanted to have some kind of hope to grasp on. 

“Sign that he’s falling out of love?” he continued. 

And somehow, his white-haired friend thought it would be okay to chime in. “More like a sign that the tool's not interested anymore and is about to dump her.”

Your face felt hot and in the most terrible way. “Sorry, what was your name again?” you asked, your tone dripping with sarcasm. You hadn’t expected the guy to suddenly chime in, considering he had been quietly typing on his laptop just moments before. “I don’t remember asking for your opinion, so don’t go listening to somebody else’s business when you’re not part of the conversation.”

“Jeez,” said the albino guy, grinning at your cousin as if amused by your barrage of a response. “She’s a yapper, too. I thought she was supposed to be this sweet and innocent type, Suguru?”

“Not always.” Suguru chuckled at his friend before turning to you, apologetic eyes now attempting to soothe your nerves. “Sorry ‘bout that, Y/N. Satoru just likes to tease people. Don’t mind him.”  

You kept a straight face. “Well, then maybe tell your friend to keep his nose out of conversations he’s not invited to.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” Satoru gave you a playful salute before extending his hand towards you. “Look, I didn’t mean to overhear, but I actually sympathize with you. If it were me, I’d never do that to you, baby.”

Oh, God. You were so bad at this. Was he flirting with you or was he simply playful like this? 

Nevertheless, you rolled your eyes and ignored the hand he offered, essentially brushing off his advances. “I don’t need sympathy. All I’m here for is to talk to my cousin to try and have his advice on the matter,” you emphasized pointedly, making it clear to Satoru that he was the last person you wanted advice from. “I don’t need a stranger listening to my personal life.” 

“Doesn’t hurt to receive advice from another guy,” countered Satoru, shrugging. “Right, Suguru? I mean, we’re both guys. We can give you some insight into how men think.” 

You felt the urge to bury your face in your hands. It was clearly a mistake going there and putting yourself in that situation, and now having two guys aware of your sex life with your boyfriend. That alone was so wrong on many levels. But could it be helped? Suguru was your closest cousin, the only one who didn’t turn his back on you after you left your parents’ home. He was working at a cafe three blocks away from your flower shop and you happened to be delivering a batch of fresh floral decorations for their cafe. You obviously found it a good opportunity to open up to him about your struggling relationship and hoped he could offer some male perspective on Sukuna’s behavior. You just hadn’t anticipated his friend eavesdropping on the conversation the entire time.

Well, that should have been expected anyway, since only the three of you were in that cafe on a lazy Wednesday afternoon. 

“I don’t kiss and tell, by the way.” Satoru was beaming as he gave you that assurance and you couldn’t help but admit that the man had some charm in him. He was attractive, no doubt about it. He was also tall, toned, and seemingly well off based on the way he dressed. He had a casual yet preppy style, something you would normally see from guys who went to private school. 

“Do you work?” you asked out of sheer curiosity. “You don’t seem like the type.” 

“Oh, now she’s interested.” Satoru seemed to have found your sudden interest in him humorous. “I’m finishing my MBA, miss. Thank you for asking.”

“He’s a privileged rich kid with generational wealth and a family business,” Suguru remarked, playfully gesturing a cutting motion across his neck. “Definitely not your type, huh, Y/N?”

“Why, what’s her type?” The white-haired man looked intrigued, pulling his stool closer. He had that stupid grin on his face as though the topic just sparked his curiosity. “What’s her boyfriend like?”

Suguru, who wanted to play along, jokingly hummed in deep thought. “He’s got tattoos, likes to tattoo other people, is a college dropout, rides a big bike, smokes and drinks, listens to heavy metal, was probably a delinquent and a juvie alumni—”

“Excuse you, he’s never been in a juvenile detention center,” you defended your man, feeling like your cousin’s categorization of Sukuna was becoming a little too derogatory and you had to correct him for that, “and he’s a good man. He’s sweet and caring, he’s passionate, and he loves me sincerely.” 

“Sincerely, not?” Satoru quipped, earning your glare in return. He immediately raised his hands in surrender. “I'm just joking. If you believe he’s all that, that’s your choice. I don’t judge booktok girls who romanticize typical bad boys.”

You rolled your eyes at his audacity. Each word that left his mouth seemed to stoke the flames of your irritation. “You’re so offensive, I’ll have you know that.” 

The white-haired guy smugly took a sip from his coffee. “At least I don’t make girls feel guilty for not having sex with me.” 

“Oooh.” Suguru was clearly enjoying the show, unaware that you were one step closer from smacking his friend across the face. “Touché. He kinda has a point, Y/N.” 

“Be serious,��� you warned. 

To which he agreed to. “Okay, I am being serious now,” he said, abandoning his playful stance to lean in on a more solemn posture against the counter, “If you think Sukuna makes you feel guilty for not doing it with him, then shouldn’t that speak for the kind of relationship you two have? He wants something you can’t give. His reaction tells you everything you need to know about him.” 

You tried to absorb his words with a better understanding and without any bias. “Isn’t his reaction normal? He’s a man, too. I understand his needs and I made him feel somewhat rejected.”

“It’s all about respect, Y/N,” answered Suguru, “If he’s a decent man, he wouldn’t make you feel that way. No mixed signals, no guilt tripping, no nothing. If you can’t do it, then don’t.” 

“So, you’re saying you wouldn’t feel the same if your girlfriend keeps rejecting sex with you?” 

Suguru smirked. “I never said I’m a decent man, either. All I’m saying is if what you want isn’t exactly aligned to what he wants, then maybe it’s best you break it off with him because this shit won’t get you anywhere, Y/N. Trust me. He’s gonna dump you before you know it. I mean, it’s one thing to pretend he’s all fine with it, and it’s another to distance himself from you like he’s silently protesting.” 

“Yeah, that’s true,” Satoru joined in once again. “It’s impossible for a guy like that to be in a relationship for so long and not have any pussy. We think of sex 24/7, some of us are just better at restraining ourselves than others. He’s putting up with it now, but it’s only a matter of time he gets sick and tired of waiting. You do realize he can get any girl he wants, anytime he wants, right?” 

Although you were still uncomfortable at Satoru casually chiming in on the conversation, it was true when they said they could give you the exact male perspective you needed to hear. This allowed you to go deeper into Sukuna’s psyche and understand why he was acting that way. You just didn’t know how to save the connection you have with your boyfriend when both your cousin and his friend were describing all the red flags on Sukuna’s behavior. 

“I don’t know,” you spoke in a tone of defeat. “I kinda understand where he’s coming from, so I can’t just leave him for it. I love him.”

Satoru looked at your cousin like you couldn’t be saved. “She’s in too deep.” 

“Yeah, gaslighted as fuck.” Suguru was shaking his head in disappointment. 

The taller man chuckled and brought up a ridiculous offer to lighten the situation up. “Honestly, Y/N. I know we just met and all, but if you ever need someone to teach you how to do good in bed, just hit me up. He’ll never know.” 

“Shut up,” you shot back at Satoru, eyes rolling at his remark. 

“You’re out here feeling bad for that guy when he could be fucking his clients at the tattoo shop.”

You argued. “No, he’s not—”

“Are you sure he isn’t?” 

It wasn’t Suguru nor Satoru who posed that question; it was Yuki Tsukumo, the café’s manager and Suguru's respected senior. She was in a relationship with one of your boyfriend’s stepbrothers, Choso, and was also a fellow biker, which allowed her to cross paths with Sukuna in their community. Despite this connection, she was never particularly close to him. In fact, Yuki didn’t personally get along with Sukuna and she was very vocal about it. She was, however, a regular client of yours and ordered floral arrangements from your shop on a weekly basis.

It had been awhile since you last saw her, and didn’t expect that the first greeting you would give her was a question. “Yuki, what do you mean?” 

Great. Now, three people know about your relationship quagmires. 

She was placing her helmet at the counter and sitting on a stool before answering you, “I really think you should talk to him about it, Y/N.” 

No, no. Why did you suddenly feel a pang of anxiety out of nowhere? Something about the sympathy in Yuki’s eyes felt unsettling, and it sent a wave of fear through you. She definitely knew something. What was Sukuna doing behind your back?

“Can you please just tell me?” 

Her gaze studied your face intently, as if deliberating on the right thing to do. “Well... I spotted him riding with a girl the other night. Initially, I thought it might be you, but last night, I saw them together again. I recognized her... because it was his ex. I think he’s been giving her rides home lately.” 

Amidst the quiet of the room, your heart felt like it was breaking in two. The sudden revelation sent you into an abyss of pain.

“You might wanna visit his tattoo shop later.” Yuki encouraged me with a comforting smile. “It may be best to confront him about it.”

— —

Sukuna wasn’t sure how to act around you anymore. It wasn’t like he was purposely avoiding you, but he just didn’t feel comfortable acting like everything was fine and dandy. Because if he was damn honest, the sexual frustration was fucking with his head. So much so to the point where he started questioning himself if he should still put up with a relationship like this. 

First of all, there were pros and cons involved. He had to consider that it was a special connection filled with special memories, too. 

If he was talking about the pros, he knew he would have a loving lifetime partner with you. You were beautiful, kind, and pure. You inspired him and motivated him to be better. You were unmaterialistic and happy with the littlest things. You gave his dominant side the urge to be a better man, like he was made to protect and provide for you. You became his muse; a blank canvas that was all for him to paint on. A canvas that no one had ever touched. Or, in your world, a white lily that was associated with chastity and virtue. 

But then, there were also cons, and the foremost of it being you were too conservative for your own good. You grew up in a strict environment with uptight parents who wanted to control your life. He could never voice it out, but he really hated that you were square like your parents sometimes. You were too traditional and afraid to explore new experiences, oftentimes policing him for living his life as free as he wanted it to be. The ‘opposites attract’ thing did seem to work in your relationship at first, with your differences being exciting for each other, but as time went by, it became clearer to him that you two were too different to actually be in sync together. 

Hence why your relationship became rigid and suffocating, forcing him to take a breather by distancing himself from you for some time. He did this for your benefit, because he had to clear his head before risking losing you for good. He didn’t want to jeopardize a relationship that he knew meant the world to him. Perhaps this was just a phase, a challenging period following the honeymoon phase, where all your differences seemed to become more pronounced.

But to repeatedly make him look forward to sharing intimacy with you, only for you to back out at the very last minute? Man, was that so frustrating. 

It didn’t help that it was destiny itself that seemed to be stirring the pot. Because while you two were going through a rough time in your relationship, the irony presented itself outside of Sukuna’s tattoo shop late at night just as he was about to close. 

“Ryo?” A tall woman with athletic build, long dark hair, and beautiful doe eyes came into view with a wide smile on her face. 

His ex-girlfriend of three years. 

Sukuna held the door for her albeit the confusion in his eyes. “Yorozu?” 

The only difference he noticed was that she had become a lot sexier, with the curves on her body more womanly than ever. It was obvious that she was active in the gym to achieve such a fit physique. But other than that, her facial features were the same. Her heart eyes still shone bright at the mere sight of him, as if they carried stars and galaxies. 

“I think I came too late,” said Yorozu, smiling in disappointment, “I should probably just return tomorrow.” 

“No, you’re good.” Sukuna insisted on letting her enter his shop, closing the door as soon as she was inside. “What brought you here?” 

She stood confidently in front him, wearing nothing but a blank tank top and some loose white pants. “Funny story ‘cause I actually just moved to this city recently and I just found out you had a shop in this area.” 

Oh? That was interesting, indeed. Sukuna wondered how she even found his shop in that case, while he was leading her to the tattoo chair. “Are you here to get a tattoo or?” 

“Yeah, yeah I am.” She was sprinkling some charm in her grin. He knew her too well. “I think it’s amazing that I’m gonna get it from you again.”

While Yorozu was talking to him, he couldn’t help but ask: was it wrong for him to be in the same vicinity as his ex? Considering how jealous you could get, this was definitely wrong in your eyes. But as he wasn’t doing anything sketchy, he figured there was nothing wrong about what he was doing. Yorozu was technically a client and he couldn’t deny her his services since she was basically a friend of his, too. So, was he breaking any code here? 

“Well, only if you have time now, of course,” she added out of consideration, “It’s kinda late so I can always come back.” 

Sukuna shook his head and headed to get his book of tattoo art samples. “It’s fine. I got clients lined up all day tomorrow, so,” he said, placing the book on her lap, “You wanna check that or do you have a design in mind already?” 

Yorozu’s eyes fell on the tattoos marking Sukuna’s body, her gaze landing on every familiar inch as though she had seen them all the time before. It was true. She had seen more of him, actually. She had done more with his body, too. “I kinda wanna get a sleeve, but I want you to choose the design for me.” 

A tattoo sleeve? Damn. It was something he would never in a million years see from you, but for Yorozu, it was totally normal. She was as obsessed with ink as he was. And although she’s had a couple of tattoos in her body already, which were done by him, it would be her first time to get a full sleeve. 

“I get to choose, really?” Sukuna chuckled lightly. If he were to think of Yorozu’s traits, she was definitely a classic red rose. A seductress, alluring woman was how he saw her and the said flower would be a true-to-life representation of her personality. She was passionate when it came to loving someone, and was completely devoted to him back when they were together. The only reason they broke up was because they were too similar, as if she was his counterpart, and he saw fit to leave a relationship where they both constantly battled for dominance. Yorozu could get too aggressive on loving someone and he didn’t particularly like that. He made her understand why they weren’t working as a couple, and it took her some time, but she eventually accepted his decision. Now, you could say, they were somehow on good terms. “Alright, I’ll do your sleeve, but I’ll keep the design as a surprise.” 

Her eyes sparkled in excitement at the thought. “I’d love that!” 

“Since you want a sleeve, we’re gonna do some stencil application today.” Sukuna didn’t waste any more time in getting ready with his equipment, biting on the glove while wearing the other on his hand. “It’ll take fifteen to twenty hours to complete a sleeve, and each session could last two to six hours depending on your pain tolerance. My schedule’s actually full all day until next week, but you can come around the same time every night so I can finish yours.” 

“Yeah, I’m absolutely fine with that,” she enthused. For some reason, Yorozu was happy with the idea. The idea of coming to visit Sukuna every night in his shop. The idea that they get to be alone. The idea that they would be able to reconnect just like old times. Those were the things that Sukuna assumed was going through her head. 

And as he did start with his ‘client’, it was probably best to admit that the sexual tension was high. The room felt stuffy as the both of them remained there until midnight, with her sitting on the tattoo chair, and him doing her tattoo to her left. His eyes were intently focused on the intricate patterns he was doing on her arm, but also couldn’t avoid seeing the contours of her breasts since she was wearing such a thin tank top. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen them before. He’d seen every part of her body from her neck down to her toes. He’d put her in every position from missionary to doggy. Goddamn, he could even remember how warm she felt around his cock. Didn’t she like it when he came inside her? Or when he made her swallow every drop of his seed? 

Sukuna cleared his throat, shaking his vulgar thoughts away as he continued with Yorozu’s arm. He may not be cheating, but thinking back on those intimate experiences with someone else other than his girlfriend was definitely not morally right either. But what sexual experience could he reminisce about with you? That ridiculously embarrassing night you two had shouldn’t even be counted since he was trying so hard to forget about it. 

He cleared his throat. Again. For the third time. “What, uh, what’ve you been up to?” 

Yorozu, who had no clue about his thoughts, turned her face to look at him happily. “Not much, actually. The bar I worked at closed down, but I got myself a new job in this club as a full time hostess and part-time promoter. You should come by. Drinks on me.” 

By not exactly accepting or refusing, Sukuna decided to just smile it off. “That’s why you moved to this city?” 

“Yeah, I mean… obviously, the rent here is higher, but it’s closer to my job. I get paid decently, too.” 

“That’s nice.” He was just trying to make small talk at this point. “Do you know your way ‘round here? How are you gonna get home?” 

She considered her options. “Probably a bus or something?” 

Sukuna paused, contemplating the situation. “There's no bus here at midnight,” he remarked, concerned for the girl who would have to navigate her way home alone at such a late hour. She was new to the area and clearly still adjusting to the commuter lifestyle. Unlike her, he had a vehicle that could safely transport her home. There would be no harm in offering, right? “Look, I have a bike and I usually take midnight rides, anyway. I can drop you off on my way home.”

“Really?” Her voice echoed excitement in them. “I’d appreciate it, Ryo. Thanks so much.” 

Life was ironic, truly. He didn’t see this situation coming because he never expected that he would even come across Yorozu ever again. They didn’t have any contact prior, but he still saw her on social media whenever he (on very rare occasions) decided to check his accounts. He never had her blocked, either, which was why you knew about Yorozu after snooping through his phone and reading through some of his old messages with her. Sukuna used to tell you not to worry about her, and that she was just his ex, and that she had nothing on you—which were all true, of course, but it was funny to him now that the woman his girlfriend was most threatened by was back in his life. 

And she was riding at the backseat of his motorbike, her arms latching at nothing else but around his torso. She was seated at the seat reserved for you, wearing the helmet that was bought for you, and holding onto a man that was rightfully yours. It all didn’t feel right. 

But because Yorozu delighted in his habit of speeding on the highway, he had somehow forgotten about the guilt that was forming in his heart. 

**

“You still have your ex’s Instagram?” Your questioning eyes met his defensive ones as he joined you in the living room, finding his space on the couch next to you. “I read your dms. Why haven’t you blocked her?” 

Sukuna’s breath remained steady. “Only toxic people do that shit.” 

“But I’m not comfortable with it!” you nagged, letting him snatch his phone from your grasp. 

“Do you see me talking to her still?” he asked, trying to be as patient as he could be, “Baby, I don’t even talk to her. I don’t think she’s active there, either.” 

You crossed your arms. “Then, block her?” 

“You’re being ridiculous.” 

“I’m being fair. You shouldn’t be keeping tabs with an ex.” 

“What are you—” Sukuna decided to cut his own sentence after realizing that the argument was plain stupid. “You know what, I’ll just delete my insta.” 

**

“How many times do you two do it?” you asked out of nowhere, sitting at the waiting area while he was closing his shop. “Your ex. How often do you have sex with her?” 

What kind of trap were you setting now? If he told you an honest answer, you would get mad. If he lied or even sugar coated it, you would also get mad. 

“Does it matter? Why do you keep asking questions about her and then get upset with me?” Sukuna’s frustration resonated in his sigh as he tidied the space where he tattooed his client a few minutes ago. “She’s an ex for a reason, so get over it.”

He was starting to get annoyed by your never-ending questions about his past experiences, but he knew you were simply coming from a place of no experience. You probably wanted to know what he liked in bed, what pleased him the most, what kept him from wanting more. Was that too much? No. Were you overdoing this entire thing? A little bit. 

“Why are you defensive?” you asked softly, still sitting on the couch as you watched him avoid your eyes. “You make me feel so insecure every time.” 

He scoffed, shaking his head as he turned around. “I don’t know, baby. If you’re feeling insecure, then do something about it.” 

**

“Thanks so much for the ride, Ryo.” 

Yorozu stood by her door, returning the helmet back to him while she kept her eyes locked on his. Her gaze was inviting, tempting him to give in and submit to his carnal desires. Any man would read her intentions the same way; Yorozu stared at him like that because she wanted to invite him to her place. She wanted him to spend the night and do unforgivable things. To remember the passionate exchange they once shared. 

But Sukuna wasn’t like that. No, he wasn’t a cheater. “I, uh, gotta get going.” 

“Oh…” Disappointment clouded Yorozu’s face. “Okay, then.” 

“See you tomorrow?” 

“...Alright.” 

“Okay.” 

“Wait!” Yorozu pulled his arm just as he was heading back to his motorbike. The sudden closeness in their proximity made his heart race fast. He knew what was coming. “I missed you, Ryo.” 

He knew what she was about to do next. 

And holy fuck did he guess right, as he was taken aback when Yorozu suddenly leaned in to press her lips onto his. Her soft, cherry lips moved desperately to taste his sweet kisses. 

But he didn’t return it. Instead, he immediately pushed her away. “Yorozu,” he spoke softly, “I have a girlfriend.” 

“You do?” She didn’t need to hide it. He could see the heartbreak on her face. 

“Yeah,” Sukuna confirmed, maintaining a more appropriate distance now. “We’ve been together for some time, and I live with her.”

Yorozu tried to maintain her facade of indifference, making it appear as though she was unfazed by his revelation. “That’s... That’s cool,” she said, “I’m sorry for, uh, the kiss.”

Sukuna nodded, “It’s fine. I should’ve told you sooner.”

“You’re alright,” she reassured him, “It's totally my fault. I hope she won’t be upset with you or something.”

Sukuna had no plans to tell you, knowing well the additional turmoil it would bring to your already strained relationship. However, he realized the importance of clarity in his intentions and the need to set boundaries. “We’re just friends. We’ll keep things civil. I’ll finish your tattoo in a couple more sessions, and then we’re done. Sounds fair?”

Yorozu nodded her head with a reluctant smile. “Fair enough.” 

— —

5 more days. Her sleeve required five more sessions, and days went by too fast for him to count. He had busied himself with his clients, while you had busied yourself with yours. He couldn’t even spend time with you because his shop took a chunk of his time from him, and even at home, things had become too awkward ever since your unspoken night. 

So, in some ways, Yorozu became his routine. She visited his shop for the past four nights and he had taken her home afterwards. She was in absolute love with her rose sleeve and they weren’t even complete yet. He still owed her one last session and told himself that it should also be the last time she should be around him. It wasn’t right and he didn’t want to create another source of argument with you. 

And in truth, he certainly felt a little guilty for spending more time with his ex than his own girlfriend. But did he purposely do it? No, it was fate that brought her to his door about a week ago. 

In spite of his stubbornness to admit his wrongdoing, he still ended up stopping by the flower market to get you a nice bouquet of white lilies. He knew you could make a prettier bouquet than that, but he thought it would be a perfect opportunity to surprise you with flowers that didn’t exactly come from you. Besides, he had some making up to do. 

Later that night, when he returned to your shared home, he found you sitting at the couch seemingly waiting for him to come home. The lights were dimmed and the television was turned off. For some reason, you were wearing outside clothes and had a somber expression on your face, too. That alone caused the loud thumping of his heart. 

“Hey,” he greeted, nonetheless, sitting next to you on the couch and kissing your cheek. “Everything okay, baby?” 

Your eyes carried sadness in them as you looked at him and searched for answers you couldn’t find. “Where were you?” 

Sukuna handed the bouquet over. “Got you flowers.” 

You didn’t accept them. Instead, every second seemed to torture you. “Where were you before that?” 

“In the shop…?” He didn’t know where to start, but he was definitely scared. “Why? Sorry I’ve been busy lately. I’ll make it up to you, angel.” 

“You close your shop at nine,” you pointed out, voice breaking in the middle of your sentence. “Why do you always come home at two in the morning?” 

Fuck. Fuck! What should he say? Should he make an excuse for it? Should he say he’d been checking on Yuuji after his shifts? Should he say he’d been riding to other cities to clear his mind? He didn’t fucking know what to say, especially not when you were clearly on the verge of bursting out. 

“Answer me!” you cried, finally releasing the bottle out in the open. The tears that welled in your eyes now streamed ceaselessly down your face. “You’re an asshole. I-I hate you! I fucking… you think I don’t know? You think I’m too stupid to know?!”

Sukuna calmly received the fists you had swung on his chest as he tried to grab ahold of your arms. “Baby, I’ll explain everything.” 

“No, damn y-you!” The tremor in your voice squeezed his heart in the most painful way because he hated seeing you breaking down in front of him and over him. This wasn’t the first time he had made you cry, but this was the first time he had seen you actually sob like this. “I-I gave myself to you! I left my p-parents for you! And this is what you do to me? You’re cheating on me with your ex?!” 

He was desperate to hold you, hug you, cage you in his arms. He wanted to take your pain away. Wipe your tears away. However, you didn’t allow him to touch even a strand on your hair as you kept on pushing him off. Sukuna felt like he was going to lose his mind. “Baby, listen to me please. It’s really not what you think—”

“I don’t care!” you spat, moving away to wipe the tears off your face. “I don’t fucking care! You sleeping with her or not doesn’t change a thing. Don’t you get it? I’ll never be enough for you!” Despite your loud voice, the cracks in her facade only revealed your longing for validation and acceptance, etching into every tear-stained moment you two had shared over the course of your relationship. He watched you, paralyzed by the sight of you breaking down, as you grabbed a luggage you had been hiding behind the couch as if you were ready to leave. “I’ll never be the person you want me to be and staying with you will always remind me of it!” 

“No, no, no… Let’s talk.” Sukuna had to suppress his own tears while he tried to reach out for you. “Baby, please. I don’t feel anything for her, or anyone. It’s just you. You are enough for me, baby. I’m sorry, please.” 

You, on the other hand, were adamant at your decision. “I can’t stand what you’re doing to me anymore. I don’t like how you make me feel about myself. I hate how you make me question my own choices!” Tears continued to flow, and your voice wavered, transitioning from anger to a more subdued, pained tone. “I hate… I hate that I love you so much, that I lost all my backbone just to make you happy.” 

“You don’t need to.” He was feeling more and more miserable now, his heart sore from all the emotions he had seen from you. “Y/N, you don’t need to. I’m sorry, I love you. I love you so fucking much.”  

…

…

…

“It’s over, Sukuna,” were the last words he could recall hearing before passing out drunk in his bed that afternoon. “We’re done.”

— —

It was your first heartbreak. Your first actual relationship. Your first everything. Surely, people shouldn’t expect you to move on easily, especially not when the subject of your heartache worked across the street from you. 

You were a mess. You had cried enough tears after you moved out of his apartment that night, screamed your heart out as you suffered from the pain of loneliness once more. You couldn’t even bear the thought of returning to your parents and hearing them say they told you so, because loving Sukuna was a choice you thought was good for you. 

In the end, he was just a poison without any antidote. A toxin without remedy. The most effective solution was to sever all ties to prevent further contamination.

But strangely enough, you hadn’t seen him in his shop ever since that night, either. The tattoo parlor remained closed for more than two weeks without any notice. While a small part of you worried for him, a bigger part of you cared for yourself. He no longer held any importance to your life, and you should let it remain that way. 

What you should focus on, instead, was living your life without any trace of him. A life of independence, away from the toxicity of a manipulative man who constantly made you doubt yourself and what you offered. As they say, you have to learn to love yourself first before you can fully learn to love others. 

And in your journey of knowing the truth of that saying, a certain white-haired man entered your floral shop on a somber Friday afternoon just as you were arranging preordered bouquets for multiple customers to pick up. 

“Hey,” you greeted the man, surprised at his sudden appearance at your shop. 

Satoru grinned as he approached you closer. “I’m here to pick up two bouquets.”

“Oh, it was your order?” Your eyes widened. Silly you. Of course, Suguru would order on his friend’s behalf. He wouldn’t even get his girlfriend some flowers, let alone his mother. So this being Satoru’s order made much more sense. “Okay, you got a bouquet of blush peonies and another bouquet of pink tulips, am I correct?”

He smiled handsomely, displaying his set of perfect white teeth while listening to you talk. “Correct.” 

“For your mom?” you asked before you made your way to pick up the bouquets, handing them to him carefully. 

His response came with a soft, affirmative hum. “Mhm. One for her,” he said, taking only the bouquet of tulips, “The other is for you.” 

Oh, no, no, definitely no. You had seen this before and it didn’t go well. 

“That’s lovely, but…” You offered a smile. “I’m not taking those peonies.” 

Satoru acted innocent, his vibrant blue eyes coruscating under the ambient lights. “But it’s mother’s day.” 

You playfully shook your head. “I’m not even a mother.”

“Yes, you are,” he went on teasing, “the mother of my future kids. I like to think in advance, you know.” 

Honestly? This man started off with a bad impression on you, but he wasn’t actually so bad. He was an easygoing, happy-go-lucky person who carried positive energy around him. That, and he was decent, too. He was the type of guy your parents would have surely approved of. He was a degree holder like you, even pursuing graduate studies to run a business that was already generating an income that you could only imagine of getting. He was set for life with no uncertainty with what he wanted for his future. 

“Satoru?”

He met your gaze. “Yeah?”

“About your offer last time,” you recalled, recalling his earlier jest about teaching you some things in bed, “I think I'd like to take you up on that.”

[saintobio]

aaaa, saint, i wanna gush about you sm, but am afraid of the askbox curfew. so lemme just talk about 'blank canvas'

first of all, thanks for writing modern-day!sukuna the way you did, and for incorporating all the tropes that you did. it's the perfect dybamic plus dose of angst that sukuna glazers needed 😔

loved it sm that i've been thinking about reader and sukuna's state of mind since yesterday ( especially, sukuna's 🤪 )

it's that sort of feeling, you know? where you are carrying out mundane tasks, and then all of a sudden your knees crumble, heart sinks in acid and you just have to pause everything. why? all bc you remembered the story exists.

so once again, thank you !!

#boyfie ryo is so 😔

askbox curfew 😭 sdksk i’m sorry i open it seldomly. but thanks for leaving a message, anyhow!! <3

tiny bits of blank canvas were actually inspired by real life events, that’s prob why some people can relate to it? and having sukuna as the ml was more of a self-indulgent thing, but also he just has the perfect persona for it :’) he’s the perfect example of a doberman boy!

[saintobio]

saint!! ily and thank u for all the amazing work u do huhu it keeps me going. and idk i can’t stop thinking about a sy scenario where yn goes into a coma or something and they didn’t know she signed a DNR, im curious what satoru and her family would think, even toji and/or akemi. hope ur doing fine and staying healthy queen <3

hello~ well tbh with u that’s gonna devastate gojo 10x worse than when she left for nyc! i’ll leave the rest for ur imagination :D

her family would be strongly against it and do everything in their power to revoke the dnr order.

toji and akemi, i feel like they would respect her decision bc then yn wouldn’t have to suffer on life support anymore.

[saintobio]

this one goes out to my home girls sy!maki and mai

hii lovelies!! how’ve y’all been? hope everything’s been going well for you guys! :D

as the old saying goes, “curiosity killed the cat” (it’s me guys. i’m the cat. curiosity killed me. that’s why i’m asking this 😝) but i js wanted to k if y’all knew abt toji and yn’s break up :(((

ik you guys are pretty close to yn and i’m hoping that it doesn’t put a strain on your relationship w her but i was wondering how you guys are dealing w the news. hopefully, ur friendship w yn remains strong but if not, then that’s understandable too <333

SY!Maki: I can see why Toji-san did it, but I also feel bad for the both of them. It’s right person, wrong time kinda thing.

SY!Mai: My, my! I’m absolutely, insanely devastated! You’re telling me I lost the chance to have a cool cousin-in-law like Y/N-san??? I’m heartbroken for her!

[saintobio]

First of all, I want to thank you for all the Masterpieces you have created. If you decide to release a book one day, I am 100% buying it 👏

I habe a question for Akemi: do you feel like you are breaking girl code? And what will you do, if your relationship with Satoru doesn’t work out, after you have burned a lot of bridges and your reputation took a hit?

SY!Akemi: I can’t see why it wouldn’t work out, but it’s worth the risk. I’m also a firm believer of destiny, so whatever happens, happens. If it’s meant to be, it will be.

[saintobio]

sy!gojo, would you correct Sachi if you heard him call Akemi his “mom” if it happened again?

SY!Gojo: I would, but not in front of Akemi. Would Y/N correct Sachi if he had called Toji his “dad”?

[saintobio]

To Akemi

Do you have any back up plans if things between you and Satoru don’t work out.

Like what are you going to doing if this relationship isn’t going way you want or fail. Like what if Satoru doesn’t want to get married or have anymore kids sometime soon in a near future maybe he will in 8 or 10 years later.

SY!Akemi: But why would he be with me in the first place if he doesn’t wanna do those things in the future? I don’t know. I don’t make back up plans for things like this…

[saintobio]

sy!akemi: girl, as someone who has somewhat been in your position, i sympathize with you, i don’t hate you and i can’t really blame you 100%, but i just wanna tell you that no relationship that has ever been built on the suffering of others will ever find the peace and ease it needs. you’re already seeing that now, right? :(( you can’t even look y/n in the eye anymore. *sigh*

anyway, just know this:

y/n would have never done this to you.

SY!Akemi: …Thank you for your concern. Whatever it is that I share with Satoru, it’s something that only the both of us understand. I didn’t mean to hurt Y/N along the process.

[saintobio]

bc!sakuna - you knew yn was under pressure when she was giving herself to you and yet you continued. And when she yelled she was in pain you just got up and left! How can you leave YOUR girlfriend like that. Naked, vulnerable and crying.

I do hope you find your way out, but dude did you fuck up !

BC!Sukuna: I asked her multiple times if she was sure ‘bout it. She could have said no before we started. Dammit, I regret walking out on her that time too, but my feelings were all over the place. Is it so wrong to crave intimacy from my own girlfriend?

[saintobio]

To bc!sukuna: Why did you and yorozu break up when you knew youll be missing her again?

BC!Sukuna: Who said I missed her?

[saintobio]

to bc!gojo, what are your thoughts/feelings for y/n currently

BC!Gojo: Pure, unassuming, chaste, empathic, beautiful, smart, not the usual, totally unique, dream woman, put a ring on it, make love to it, have babies with it.

*clears throat* Wifey material.