#empress reader

[elsietopia]

Chapter 1: "The Third Wife"

You arrive at Sukuna's palace as his third wife—a political offering, nothing more. Unlike your predecessors, you don't arrive with expectations of love or power. You arrive with seeds for a dead garden and kindness for forgotten servants. In a palace built on fear, you plant hope. And the Emperor notices.

WC: 2,891 ───〃★ masterlist

The cherry blossoms had long since fallen.

Winter gripped the palace grounds in skeletal fingers, leaving behind bare branches and frozen earth. It was fitting, you thought, for a place like this—a palace ruled by a man they called a monster, a curse, a demon in human skin.

Ryomen Sukuna.

Your husband, as of three hours ago.

The wedding ceremony had been efficient. Cold. You'd been dressed in the finest silk—crimson and gold, colors that complemented the tattoos you'd glimpsed on his skin—and led through corridors that seemed to stretch endlessly. The few servants you'd passed had kept their eyes down, their footsteps hurried, as if lingering too long in these halls might invite catastrophe.

You didn't blame them.

You'd heard the stories. Everyone had. The Emperor who'd conquered lands with nothing but his cursed energy and ruthlessness. The man who'd taken a first wife and cast her aside when her jealousy became tiresome. A second wife who'd lasted even less time—too vapid, too eager to please, ultimately too boring to keep his interest.

Now there was you.

The third wife.

A treaty offering from your father's province, a political band-aid for a conflict your family couldn't hope to win. You'd accepted your fate with the same quiet grace you'd accepted everything else in life—with steady hands and a calm heart, even when your mother had wept.

"Someone will show you to your chambers," the officiant had said after the ceremony, and then you'd been alone.

Not entirely alone, you supposed. Somewhere in this sprawling palace, Sukuna's concubines resided. You'd seen a few during the ceremony—beautiful women dripping in jewels, their eyes sharp as they assessed the new wife. You'd met their gazes evenly, offering a small nod of acknowledgment.

You weren't here to make enemies. You weren't naive enough to think you could make friends either.

The shoji door slid open, and two young women entered—both looking no older than yourself. They bowed in perfect unison, their movements practiced but stiff with nervousness.

"Empress," the first one said, her voice barely above a whisper. She had gentle brown eyes and her hands trembled slightly. "I am Danielle. This is Haerin. We've been assigned to attend to you."

The second girl—Haerin—kept her eyes downcast, her posture rigid with fear. She was as pretty as Danielle, with delicate features and long lashes, but she looked like she wanted to disappear into the floor.

"Thank you, Danielle. Haerin." You kept your voice soft, gentle, and watched as both girls' eyes widened in surprise. "I appreciate your help. This palace is... quite large. I'm afraid I'll get lost without guidance."

Danielle blinked rapidly, as if kindness was unexpected. Perhaps it was, in a place like this. "Y-yes, Empress. Your chambers have been prepared. If you'll follow us?"

They led you through more corridors, these ones slightly warmer, touched by braziers that cast dancing shadows on the walls. You noticed how they walked—Hana slightly ahead, Haerin trailing behind, both of them glancing nervously at closed doors as if expecting something terrible to emerge.

Your chambers, when you finally reached them, were surprisingly beautiful—spacious, with painted screens depicting cranes in flight, and a small garden visible through the windows.

A dead garden, you noted. Winter-killed and abandoned.

"Will there be anything else, Empress?" Danielle asked, while Haerin began arranging your few belongings with quick, efficient movements.

You turned to them both, offering a small smile. "Please, when we're alone, you can call me by my name if you'd like. And yes—do you know if there are gardening tools available? Seeds, perhaps?"

Both girls froze. Haerin's hands stilled on the silk robe she'd been folding.

"G-gardening tools, my lady?" Danielle stammered.

"The garden outside." You gestured to the window. "It seems a shame to leave it barren. I'd like to plant winter camellias. And perhaps some early plum blossoms, if the soil can support them."

Haerin finally spoke, her voice soft and uncertain. "But my lady... it's winter. Nothing will grow until—"

"Spring," you finished gently. "I know. But seeds need time to root, even in the cold. And hope needs something to tend to."

The two girls exchanged glances, something unspoken passing between them. Then Danielle straightened her shoulders. "I... I'll inquire about the tools, my lady. We should have such things in storage."

"Thank you, Danielle." You looked at Haerin, who was still staring at you with wide, uncertain eyes. "And Haerin, if you're not too busy tomorrow, would you help me plan the garden layout? I'd appreciate another perspective."

The girl's mouth opened, closed, then opened again. "M-me, my lady?"

"Yes, you. I imagine you know this palace better than I do. You'd know where the sun hits, where the shadows fall."

A faint blush colored Haerin's cheeks. "I... yes, my lady. I would be honored."

You didn't see Sukuna for three days.

It didn't surprise you. Political marriages rarely involved actual interaction, and you imagined an emperor had better things to do than visit a wife he'd been forced to take.

So you kept yourself occupied.

The garden became your first project. You worked alongside Danielle and Harin—much to their shock—kneeling in the cold earth with your sleeves tied back, planting camellia seeds with careful hands.

"My lady, please," Danielle had protested on the first day, looking genuinely distressed. "This isn't proper. If the Emperor sees—"

"Then he sees," you'd said simply, patting soil over a seed. "My mother always said that anything worth having is worth working for. Besides, I like the feel of earth under my fingernails. It reminds me that I'm alive."

Haerin had knelt beside you then, hesitantly at first, then with growing confidence. "My grandmother used to garden," she'd said softly. "Before she passed. She said that plants were like people—they needed patience and care to thrive."

"Your grandmother sounds wise," you'd replied, and the smile Haerin gave you was like sunlight breaking through clouds.

Word spread quickly through the palace. The new empress, kneeling in the dirt like a common servant. The new empress, who spoke gently to her attendants and worked alongside them. The new empress, who didn't demand or throw tantrums or weep dramatically like the others.

You pretended not to notice the whispers, but you noticed how Danielle and Haerin began to relax around you. How Danielle started humming while she worked. How Haerin laughed—actually laughed—when you made a joke about your dirt-stained hands.

On the fourth day, you encountered your first concubine.

She was beautiful—of course she was—with long dark hair and sharp, calculating eyes. She found you in the garden again, wrapped in a thick cloak against the winter wind, sketching plans for a stone path while Danielle and Haerinarranged tools nearby.

"So you're the new one," she said without preamble.

You looked up, setting down your charcoal. Danielle and Haerin immediately tensed, bowing low. You gestured for them to rise. "I am. And you're...?"

"Ningning." She tilted her head, studying you like a cat studies a mouse. Her gaze flickered to your attendants dismissively before returning to you. "I've been here two years. Longer than either of your predecessors."

"Then you must be very special," you said simply, without irony.

That seemed to throw her. Her eyes narrowed. "You're not what I expected."

"I'm sorry to disappoint."

"I didn't say I was disappointed." She crouched down, her fine robes pooling around her, seemingly unconcerned about the dirt. "The first wife was a shrew. The second was a fool. What are you?"

You considered the question, then smiled. "A gardener, apparently."

Despite herself, Ningning laughed. It was a surprised sound, quickly stifled. "You're planting flowers in winter. That makes you a fool too."

"Perhaps," you agreed. "But even fools can hope for spring."

She studied you for another long moment, then stood. "He'll break you," she said, not unkindly. "Sukuna breaks everything eventually. It's his nature."

"Maybe," you said softly. "Or maybe some things are strong enough to bend instead of break."

Ningning left without another word, but you thought you saw something like respect in her eyes.

After she was gone, Haerin leaned closer to you. "My lady... you weren't afraid of her."

"Should I have been?"

"The second empress was," Danielle said quietly. "She used to cry after the concubines visited. Said they were cruel to her."

You looked at both girls thoughtfully. "Did you know the second empress well?"

They exchanged glances. "We didn't serve her," Haerin admitted. "We worked in the kitchens usually. But we heard things."

"She screamed at the servants," Danielle added, her voice barely a whisper. "Threw things when she was angry. We were... surprised when we were assigned to you. We thought..."

"You thought I'd be the same," you finished gently.

Both girls looked down, ashamed.

"It's alright," you said, reaching out to squeeze Danielle's hand briefly. "You can't be blamed for expecting the worst. But I promise you both—I'm not here to make anyone's life harder. We're all just trying to survive in our own ways."

Haerin's eyes glistened with unshed tears. "Thank you, my lady," she whispered.

You met Sukuna on the fifth night.

You'd been preparing for bed, braiding your hair by candlelight, when the door opened without warning. Danielle and Haerin had left for the evening—you'd insisted they rest, that you could manage alone—so when his massive frame filled the doorway, you were alone.

Completely alone.

With the man they called a monster.

He was... larger than you'd expected. Taller. The tattoos you'd glimpsed during the ceremony covered more of his skin—intricate patterns that seemed to move in the flickering light. His eyes, all four of them, fixed on you with an intensity that would have made lesser women tremble.

You set down your brush and stood, bowing respectfully. "Emperor."

"Sukuna," he corrected, his voice like gravel and silk. "You're my wife. Use my name."

"Sukuna," you repeated softly.

He moved into the room with predatory grace, and you noticed he was studying you the same way Ningning had—like he was trying to solve a puzzle. His eyes traveled from your simple sleeping robe to your bare feet, to the loose braid draped over your shoulder.

"You're not afraid," he observed.

"Should I be?"

"Most people are."

You met his gaze steadily. "Most people haven't been raised by a father who negotiated with warlords since childhood. I learned early that fear is only useful if it keeps you alive. Otherwise, it's just... exhausting."

Something flickered in his expression. Amusement? Curiosity?

He moved closer, and you caught his scent—sandalwood and something darker, like smoke and steel. He reached out, and you held perfectly still as he caught your braid between his fingers, testing its weight.

"You've been gardening," he said.

Not a question. A statement.

"Yes."

"In winter."

"Yes."

"Why?"

You considered how to answer. Honesty, you decided, was probably safest with a man who could smell lies. "Because the garden was dead, and I don't like looking at dead things. Because even in winter, there's potential for growth—you just have to be patient enough to wait for it. And because..." you paused, then continued softly, "because I needed something beautiful to tend to."

His eyes—all of them—focused on you with unnerving intensity. "You think you can make something beautiful here? In my palace?"

"I think," you said carefully, "that beauty exists everywhere, if you're willing to look for it. Even in unlikely places."

For a long moment, he said nothing. Then, unexpectedly, he smiled—a sharp, dangerous thing that should have terrified you.

It didn't.

"The others tried to change me," he said, releasing your braid. "The first wife wept and begged me to send away my concubines. The second tried to seduce me into compliance, thinking her body was enough to hold my attention."

"I have no intention of changing you," you replied. "You are who you are. An emperor. A force of nature. I'd have better luck trying to convince winter to become spring ahead of schedule."

"And yet you plant flowers."

"I plant flowers," you agreed, "because that's who I am. Not to change the winter, but to be ready when spring comes on its own."

He stared at you for so long you wondered if you'd said something wrong. Then he turned and walked to the door.

"The servants say you work alongside them," he said without looking back. "That you learn their names and ask about their families."

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because they're people," you said simply. "And people deserve to be seen."

He paused in the doorway, his massive frame silhouetted against the corridor light. "You're strange."

"I've been told that before."

"I haven't decided yet," he said, "if you're wise or foolish."

"Perhaps I'm both," you offered. "Most interesting people are."

You could have sworn you heard him laugh—a low, rumbling sound—before he disappeared into the darkness.

Sleep came surprisingly easily that night.

The next morning, you found something waiting in your garden.

A single winter camellia, already in bloom, planted in the center of the space you'd been preparing. Its petals were the palest pink, almost white, delicate against the frozen earth.

Impossible. Camellias from seed took years to bloom.

But there it was.

Danielle and Haerin found you staring at it, your fingers pressed to your lips.

"The Emperor's work," Danielle whispered, her eyes wide. "His cursed energy can manipulate growth. Force life from death." She hesitated. "He's never used it for flowers before. Only for... other purposes."

Haerin clutched your arm gently. "My lady... what does it mean?"

You knelt beside the camellia, touching its petals with reverent fingers. They were real. Alive. Beautiful.

"Even monsters," you whispered, "can create something gentle."

Behind you, your two attendants exchanged hopeful glances.

And high above, unseen and unheard, Sukuna watched from a window.

He told himself it was a whim. A momentary curiosity about the strange woman who'd invaded his palace with her quiet voice and dirt-stained hands.

He told himself it meant nothing.

He was a liar.

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[abbyfmc]

Thoughts of a Royal

Yandere Emperor! X Empress! Reader:

[Yandere's PO.V]

—What did you do to me?—.

That's always been my question since I met you.

What did you do to me?

Since I was born into this imperial family as the first son, my destiny was sealed to always be the best, or the example my younger siblings would follow. Because of this, making mistakes was strictly forbidden, as everyone, especially my father, had very high expectations of me.

From a young age, I was pressured to be the best in my studies; added to that, my father had an imperial harem with several women of different ranks, with whom he fathered several princes and princesses besides me and my younger brother. The previous empress regent was quite vile and malevolent, especially toward my mother, a high-ranking noble consort.

Why? Because she hated the fact that it was my mother who gave birth to me as the first prince, and my younger brother as the second. She hated that a mere consort, inferior to her, received more imperial favor than she did. That's why her hands didn't tremble when it came to relentlessly mistreating her, my brother, and me.

In fact, it was the previous empress who, with her machinations within the harem, gave me a negative view of women. She made me believe that all of them, except for my mother, were fake and only smiled hypocritically at others or sought favor for themselves, their children, and clans or families of origin. News of false accusations for one thing or another; poisonings; traps and attempted assassinations were daily news in this oppressive palace, and guess what? There was ALWAYS some malevolent consort or concubine behind the scenes, manipulating everything.

I myself was a victim of several of these entanglements, one of which was a severe poisoning at the age of 10. I still remember my mother's terrified expression upon seeing me on the brink of death. Of all the children, she and another very low-ranking concubine were the only ones who didn't compete with each other and displayed genuine sisterhood and affection.

I always longed for that closeness with my younger brothers, and perhaps my princess sisters, but in return, I received the envy of others. That's how I learned a painful truth at such a young age.

—"In the palace or the court, no one will fight for you. Even the person who loves you (in this case, my mother) will sooner or later leave your life, so one must fight for oneself."—

That's what I kept doing for years.

Going to bed super late and getting up super early to study.

I spent HOURS locked away, trying to learn about every topic that came my way.

Many times I had to arrive with scars after physical training, and hold back MANY tears, since we lived under the saying "men don't cry," since otherwise, we would be considered weak.

But despite all the intrigue, deceit, scheming, fighting, and evildoing within the palace, I never harmed any of my brothers, much less any consort or my own father. And what did I receive in return? Numerous assassination attempts by the vast majority of my father's wives and my younger brothers. Only a few, like my younger brother and the eighth prince (born to my mother's best friend after she died in childbirth due to the Empress Regent's schemes that year), and a few other princes and princesses, were honest with me. However, that didn't stop me from finally becoming my father's pride and joy and his right-hand man, which already made me crown prince.

But there was something I couldn't forget no matter how much my father insisted, and that was the trauma I had gone through with these women from the harem.

My mother's horror stories about how the former Empress Regent tortured her during her pregnancy with both me and my younger brother. From making her kneel for hours in the scorching sun, snow, or rain to trying to administer anything that would make her forcibly abort us, as well as attempting to punch her in the stomach more than once.

The time the Empress's friends tried to burn down the old pavilion (now in ruins and abandoned) with me inside, alive and just a baby. If it weren't for my mother, I wouldn't be alive today.

The times they tried to accuse me of cheating in my classes, or my mother of infidelity.

Attempts by other consorts to kidnap me (a boy, then between 8 and 10 years old) to curry imperial favor at my expense. After being caught and punished by my father, they beat me in retaliation whenever they had the opportunity.

Assassination attempts where I almost died from attacks by guards or bribed assassins, poisonings, and even "accidental" attacks.

The times when they used lower-ranking maids to accuse me of serious things, when I always kept my distance due to the traumas I was already carrying.

The lies and manipulations. Hearing every day that one spouse tried to poison or cause a miscarriage in another (not only or necessarily my mother).

How do you expect me to forget all that?

I couldn't. At that time, I couldn't, because I thought they were all the same. My father didn't like that I rejected every suitor he introduced me to, so this time he decided to make a silent decision.

It wasn't until the imperial selection of wives and consorts that I finally met you. I didn't know who you were, or where you came from; I only knew that you and your younger sister had been summoned to attend. You were the first to present yourself to me, and I was already considering rejecting you out of fear.

Yes, fear.

Fear that you would be like the others and that the patterns would repeat themselves.

—"Miss (Y/n) will be your wife, and therefore, she is granted the title of princess consort"— My father declared, anticipating the situation and going ahead after guessing my desire to reject. You were also surprised, but you didn't say much and accepted.

At the time, I thought you were the same, until it was time for your younger sister to introduce herself. I remember how, unlike you, Lili was so nervous, even her steps became clumsy and she eventually tripped in front of everyone, even my father.

It wasn't the first case, and it wouldn't be the last, but it was quite unique. When I left, I saw you outside, not scolding your sister, but rather... comforting and hugging her, which touched me deeply at the time. As I said, I myself had longed for a warm sisterhood not based on power struggles.

<Maybe (Y/n) isn't what I think> That's what I thought, not knowing that I would be completely right later.

I found out that same day that you begged my father for another chance for your younger sister, which I find admirable in a way.

—"Lili didn't do it on purpose!. I know what she's like when her nerves get the better of her!"— that's what you said to him.

His words were: —"I'll think about it"—.

After that, you tried to get close to me and you were surprised by how blunt I was, and I don't blame you at all. While I didn't completely trust you, I secretly acknowledged that you had (and still have) that something in your eyes that made me see you differently the moment I saw you.

At first, I thought you were trying to get close to me just to keep up appearances, but little by little, I began to realize how genuine your kindness was. You were never intrusive, and I was deeply touched by the fact that you never judged me.

I was moved by the affection you had for your sister and the understanding you showed her.

I was moved by how you treated everyone with respect, even the lowest and most forgotten servants in the palace.

I admired the fact that you took the time to investigate my every preference regarding food, drink, music... hell, even clothing.

I was surprised by the fact that you never used me to curry favor, or to dole out favor to your mother clan. In fact, you rarely mentioned anyone other than your younger sister or your father.

I really liked the fact that you understood that I sometimes need my own space or to rest. I mean, you never put me down for feeling pressured or overwhelmed. This made me start opening up to you and getting closer to you.

I was touched by the fact that whenever I was sick or injured during my practice with weapons, you yourself treated my wounds, not because I was your fiancé or a prince, but out of simple humanity. You yourself told me: —"I'm not doing this because it's my duty as your future wife, but out of simple humanity"—.

(You even snuck into my room BEFORE we were married, dressed as a maid. When I caught you and said "Are you crazy?!", you told me you overheard one of my younger brothers tell the imperial physician who was supposed to treat me that he was going to plot against me. While you scared the hell out of me, I understood why you did it.)

By that point, I was already falling in love with you. However, what truly made me realize your kindness and generosity was seeing you worried after my mother began suffering from PTSD after hearing thunder during a storm. This happened because the previous Empress Regent tortured her severely during the storm when she was pregnant with my younger brother and me; in fact, she came VERY close to losing us if it weren't for her best friend at the time, who always stood up for her. Since then (and since the fire incident), she has an intense phobia of fire and thunder, associating them with her traumas. Despite years having passed since the previous Regent's passing, she keeps returning to those moments every time she hears thunder or sees large torches.

I remember how you helped her return to her ward and tried to reassure her. You weren't even married to me at the time, and you already showed her more respect and affection than even a daughter-in-law.

At that moment, I understood that your love, solidarity, understanding, generosity, kindness, and loyalty were real. Not only that, but I finally opened up completely and ended up falling in love with you.

But apparently, I wasn't the only one. My younger brothers (the 2nd prince himself, and the 3rd, 5th, 6th, and 9th as well) began to feel attracted to your light and sweetness, which I didn't like at all. I was burning with jealousy and fury.

I had to compete for my position and that of my mother at court and in the harem that tormented her so much.

I had to compete for MY own well-being.

I had to shed tears of blood to get to where I am now.

I had to suffer greatly to earn my father's respect, even against all my brothers.

I had to compete even for food.

For rights.

To earn my father's esteem.

To earn the position of crown prince (and therefore, she would be my empress in the future).

And all so they want to take MY beloved away from me too?

<If those wretched people who call themselves brothers think they're going to take her away from me, they're wrong> I thought to myself. That's when I began manipulating my younger brother to clear my path, while I wooed (Y/n) on the surface. The second brother fell for my manipulations like a fool, so much so that he even killed the aforementioned princes (even though I never told him to kill them directly, only telling him how mean they'd been to him in the past, and how their mothers treated ours badly, since it was all very true). My younger brother surprised me with his audacity and daring, as well as his stupidity.

When the murders came to light, I activated my plan to get rid of the second prince, my brother, and used the evidence I purposely assembled behind his back, which caused my father to kick him out of the palace and my mother to become disillusioned with him. This is the first time I've ever hurt someone, albeit in an "indirectly direct" way.

By this point, you and I had already grown very close. We hadn't married because something always happened that made my father postpone the wedding, such as the previous murder cases, religious rituals, a funeral (and with it, mourning time). However, I didn't get angry, as it gave me time both to fall madly in love with you and to make you fall in love with me and clear away any obstacles that dared to cross your path.

They didn't deserve to look at you or speak to you. They didn't deserve to even touch you. At that moment, YOU WERE AND ARE MINE, just as I am yours.

You are one of the few women I've ever met who stands out not for her beauty, but for her own brilliance and light. A heart like yours is rare at court, and everyone knew it. They also knew I loved you, and since there are always enemies watching, sooner or later they would know that my weak spot is you.

You don't know how happy I was when my father finally set a date for our wedding. It was the first time in my life I was so excited to have a wife like you. What made me happiest was seeing your eyes full of love for me, not to mention your smile.

Oh my god, that smile.

What did you do to me to drive me so crazy just seeing you smile?

I spent my whole life hardening my heart so I wouldn't suffer so much, and here you are, having me, like a lovesick idiot, at your complete mercy with just a smile. Do you realize how crazy you drive me and what you're doing to me?

You would finally live with me in my chambers. Without limits, without fear of criticism, without caring about the opinions of others. Finally, you would no longer have to live with your sister in the house my father assigned to you during your stay here in the Forbidden City.

I finally had you completely at my mercy, just as you hold my heart in the palm of your hand.

—"You look beautiful"— was what I said to you after removing your red veil in our room back then. You were already beautiful, but that day you looked splendid.

I finally had you completely at my mercy, just as you hold my heart in the palm of your hand.

—"You're not so bad yourself. That color looks great on you"— was your response. That compliment is still fresh in my mind to this day.

And suddenly, as if you read my thoughts, you suddenly kissed me on the lips, taking me by surprise. I, delighted, played along and didn't let go for a while.

I never thought I'd see myself at that moment. Madly in love and married, until you appeared in my life. I remember how that night you hugged me with your classic affection, but we didn't do anything. The day was so intense that we were both very tired, so much so that even our faces hurt from smiling so much at everyone.

The point is that when you were already asleep beside me, you unconsciously became beautiful, both because of your vulnerability and because you were relaxed around me, which relaxed me as well. Do you realize what you do to me?

Time passed, and you became my support when my father, the emperor, fell ill. I already knew that he named me as the heir to the throne (and therefore, you would be my empress). Although my father was harsh with me and pressured me a lot, he was the one who made me what I am today, and who gave me the power I have today.

You were the only one with me when my mother, who was the regent of the Inner Palace that year, announced his death to everyone in the palace. The funeral was long and tiring for everyone, until the decree was issued that changed everything.

That decree named you and me as the new emperor couple. I knew that was coming, and so did you, but even so, the emotion wouldn't leave my heart; nevertheless, I could do nothing but follow the funeral protocol for that moment.

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The moment had finally arrived for you and me to ascend the imperial throne. I won't lie, I was clearly nervous during the ceremony, but everything changed after seeing you. You were beyond beautiful on that occasion, a true goddess, I'd say.

And once again you smiled, knowing that simple gesture of yours was driving me crazy. I blushed bright red, like the lovesick idiot you turned me into as soon as you came into my life. In that instant, I swore I'd do anything to protect you.

Even killing.

Once you became empress, you began to practice your art with grace in the inner palace, while I took care of political affairs. We moved from my prince's chambers to the palace, and I moved my mother into a better pavilion, elevating her to the rank of dowager empress (after all she suffered, she deserved this and more). I ended up stressed and exhausted, but at the end of the day, there you were.

Sometimes, I would spend hours in my study thinking about your every gesture, which made my emperor's heart beat faster. But that's not all.

Now that I am emperor, my enemies will only become more cautious and dangerous, to the point that if they have to, they will hurt you just to get to me, and I could NEVER allow this. As I said, I am not afraid to kill for you.

I couldn't help but boast about you to everyone as MY empress and MY beloved, but that wasn't the only thing. I LOVED (and still love) watching you perform your duties as head of the inner palace. You have a unique elegance and grace, the aforementioned brilliance, and your heart (although the latter was and is mine). I let you rule everything as you saw fit, rewarding and punishing those who deserve it. I hate it when they have the audacity to anger you.

Remember that maid who dared to speak disparagingly of you? I had my guards beat her in front of everyone and cut out her tongue.

Or that drunken eunuch who dared to rush at you and try to touch you? I executed him, but not before my guards broke his legs.

But I didn't just like that aspect of you.

I loved intimacy, or having time alone with you.

Whether it was when we walked through the palace garden, when we did some leisure time together, when we ate together, when we took a bath, or when I made you mine.

I loved kissing you, caressing you, observing and touching every corner of your being and every fold of your skin; as well as making you feel like you were in heaven. Giving you pleasure and knowing how much you liked me delighted me, just as I loved receiving it from you. Thanks to one of those nights of passion, you became pregnant.

I was happy while you were in shock. It was joyous news throughout the palace, and you were no exception. From then on, I became more overprotective and paranoid of you, but also happier.

That first prince arrived, who was a copy of me.

Then the second, who looked more like his grandfather, with a few exceptions.

Then you gave birth to a pair of twin princesses, very similar to me. Although you were frightened when one of them was born weak because it took longer than the other.

Then another prince, who had traits of both of us.

And finally, a princess just like you.

All of our children are a reflection of the deep love I have for you. However, that doesn't mean I haven't felt any fear after seeing you suffer through each pregnancy and childbirth. Especially with the twins, since it's almost a miracle that both mother and children are okay in those cases.

I couldn't help but be more strict with your care. I watched EVERYTHING the imperial doctors did with you and my children in my free time; I couldn't even think about the fact that you were suffering even the slightest bit.

That's why I allowed your sister Lili to visit you and marry my eighth brother (because, once again, you asked for it), and why I allowed your father to occasionally come see you at the palace. I never did it because I considered you family or cared about them, but to keep you happy.

But otherwise, there was a few things that was strictly forbidden in the entire palace.

Insulting you.

Touching you.

Making you angry.

Once, when you were five months pregnant with the twins—I remember it was summer—we had left our second child with his nanny, while we took our first son with us for a leisurely walk in the garden to escape the heat. I don't remember what we were talking about, but the point is that a pair of useless eunuchs were distracted and bumped into you. You almost fell, if I hadn't caught you in time.

Let me just say that your words were what saved those idiots' lives.

This makes me wonder again about what I said at the beginning.

What the hell did you do to me to drive me so crazy?

-The End.

What do you think about it?

[st4rg8te]

Twisted Affections (GL) (P. 1)

Yandere! Emperor's Mistress X Empress! Reader

✦✧✦✧

The lessons that had been instilled in you since birth resurfaced in your mind: ‘The Mother of the Nation should be dignified, elegant, and composed. She should never show any sign of weakness in front of her subjects.’ 

But you couldn’t help but break in her embrace.

✦✧✦✧

P. 2: x

[tw: adultery, s*xism, slight description of blood/injury]

✦✧✦✧

Your marriage with your husband—the Emperor, was a cold and loveless one, devoid of any warmth or affection. 

The two of you were betrothed to each other at a young age for the sake of politics. You were the daughter of an influential duke, while he was the heir to the throne. To the gaze of others, it had seemed like the perfect match. 

You had once thought the same. Hoping that the differences between the two of you would find a resolution in the arrangement, but that wish gradually withered away, unfulfilled. 

What could you do but silently endure the circumstances you were placed in? Until now, you had always maintained the perfect facade expected of an Empress.

As the years passed, the weight of responsibility overshadowed the absence of love in your marriage, settling deep within you as resigned acceptance.

But deep down, a small, naive part of you still wished for a happy ending with your prince charming, like in all those fairy tales your mother had once read to you before she died.

Your parents’ marriage had also been an arranged one, but as a little girl, you remembered the way your father would look at your mother as if she had hung all the stars in the sky. Perhaps one day, your husband would look at you in the same way?

It was simply too bad that this small hope of yours had been mercilessly crushed the moment your husband brought her home.

The sight of them together made your stomach twist into knots, and your words were caught in your throat. You felt your hands tremble as you clutched the silky fabric of your gown, trying to maintain a steady composure.

She was beautiful, with flowing blond locks and bright blue eyes that sparkled in the sunlight filtering through her delicate skin.  Although dressed in a simple gown that marked her status as a commoner, she exuded the grace and elegance of a noble princess.

A faint smile played on her lips as she laughed lightly with your husband, and he returned her smile with an equally warm one.

Why had he never smiled at you like that before?

“Her Majesty has arrived!” announced the servant behind you, and only then, did the lovers part.

Your eyes met bright baby blue ones. Her face lit up with excitement and delight as she took several steps toward you before stopping abruptly, realizing she was in front of the Emperor's wife.

Her eyes widened, and she immediately fell into a curtsy. Her dress rustled softly as her head dipped lower, revealing the graceful lines of her neck and arms.

The action made your lips twitch.

"G-greetings, Your Majesty! I've been looking forward to meeting you." Her voice held a slight tremor as she spoke.

She seemed younger than you, an edge of innocence that stirred people's protectiveness under her words—it served as another bitter reminder that the man you married did not belong to you.

You ignored her gaze boring into you; instead, turning your eyes back to your husband.

Your tone was icy, "What is this?"

"Lucia is going to live at the palace." He replied smoothly.

A hazy sense of familiarity washed over you once you heard her name come out of his mouth, but that was quickly forgotten with his next words:

"I intend to make her my concubine."

"What?" Your breath hitched sharply. "Why was I not informed of this sooner?"

He furrowed his brows in disapproval, "I do not need to explain my decisions to you. Do not get ahead of yourself."

"Have you not thought about what others would think—"

"Is that all you worry about?”

“Excuse me?”

“You have failed in your duty as my wife, for four years, you have not bore me a single child. It was about time someone else took care of it."

The harshness of his words cut through you like a blade, leaving you momentarily speechless. He continued, unperturbed by your silence, "My decision is final. I expect you, as the Empress, to give her suitable accommodations and see that she gets properly educated and trained."

You suddenly felt the urge to laugh, a humorless scoff ripping from your mouth as a cold fury burned within you. Shaky fingers curled tightly against your palm until it drew blood.

Your voice was hollow.

"I have important matters to attend to. Enjoy your stay, Lady Lucia."

Without waiting for an answer, you turned on your heel and strode out the grand corridors. The entourage of servants silently trailing behind you.

The sound of thundering steps echoed throughout the halls, but you had never felt as lonely as you did in that moment.

✦✧✦✧

Soon, word had spread quickly of Lucia's arrival as the Emperor's new concubine.

Even your family had heard the news. You were quickly met with a wrathful letter from the Duke, shaming you for losing to another woman—a commoner, no less.

For days, you had remained alone in your chambers. Rereading the scathing remarks written on the crumpled letter over and over again. Your father’s scorn a heavy burden on your already weary shoulders.

But what could you do? The Emperor's actions were beyond your control. It wasn't unheard of for a monarch to take lovers, and in some ways, even expected.

And the task of ignoring the jeers and taunts behind your back was becoming increasingly harder. In order to distract yourself, you began to drown yourself in the your duties.

"—They say Her Majesty is infertile. If that's true then here's no doubt about it; she'll be replaced by that new girl soon."

"—She's growing older each day, but there is still no sign of a child being conceived. Of course His Majesty would become tired of her."

"Poor thing."

Humiliation coiled in your gut like a snake. Behind you, your personal maid, Mary, spoke up, her voice filled with indignation on your behalf.

"Your Majesty, I'll go teach them a lesson—"

"No need," You replied, with a composed exterior, you continued walking. "Let's go."

As your husband had requested, you provided Lucia with everything he had asked for: servants, new gowns, jewelry, and suitable living quarters (which you ensured were as far away as possible from your residence). The lavish gifts and living space were more than generous, a testament to your patience.

You had also ensured that her presence would be kept minimally invasive to your daily life. Hopefully, the only times you would encounter her were on formal occasions, and nothing else.

At least that was what you had wished for, but it seemed that fate had a cruel way of playing tricks on mortals.

From the corner of your eye, a hint of blonde hair caught your attention. You halted in your steps as Lucia's face came into view, accompanied by a small group of her attendants.

‘Why was she here?’

The sight was enough to put you on edge; the last person you wanted to see right now was your husband's mistress.

She wore a delighted expression on her face as the group made their way toward you, "Your Majesty! I've been looking for you.”

Before you could respond, Mary stepped forward and quickly curtsied before the blonde woman, a hint of unfriendliness in her tone:

"Lady Lucia, how can we help you?"

An indiscernible emotion flashed across Lucia's eyes before she smiled again.

"I wanted to thank Her Majesty for all the help she has given me, and was going to invite her for tea."

Was she testing your patience on purpose? You couldn't believe your ears.

"Her Majesty has important business to attend to. Perhaps we could arrange another time." Mary suggested firmly. 

But the blonde woman ignored Mary’s words, and turned her expectant gaze towards you instead. You remained composed, offering Lucia a polite smile that did not quite reach your eyes.

"I appreciate the kind gesture, Lady Lucia. But perhaps another time.”

Lucia's smile faltered, and she slowly nodded her head, "I see... I'm sorry if I'm bothering you,"

You made a mental note to instruct the guards later not to let her wander around freely anymore. Seeing her every day would likely ruin your mood even more.

"—But,"

Shocked gasps rose from the attendants around you.

“My lady!”

Lucia paused, then her delicate fingers lifted the hem of her gown to reveal the crimson-stained slippers underneath. The blood had seeped through, staining her pristine white stockings a dark, ominous shade of red.

Your eyes widened in shock. Unaccustomed to the sight of blood, the gory display was enough to send shudders down your spine.

"Lady Lucia... What is the meaning of this?" You demanded, your voice trembling slightly as an unsettling feeling began to settle in the pit of your stomach.

Lucia's eyes were wide, and her lips curved up into a serene smile, "It wouldn't hurt Her Majesty to join us this once."

Her voice rang out, sickeningly sweet:

"I only wish to repay you. It would be a shame for His Majesty to hear about his beloved concubine getting injured in the Empress' own quarters. Wouldn't you agree, Your Majesty?"

✦✧✦✧

[ultimateturnip]

⊹₊⟡⋆ A STARLIT PROPOSAL ⋆⟡₊⊹

summary: As the Empress, rumors have reached the your ear of your close relationship with the Sanctide Court and their Sanctarch, Rafayel. You cannot ignore the whispers, so you must take action. On the eve of the one year anniversary of your coronation, you return to the Butterfly Nebula with Rafayel. Will you be able to move forward together, or will the fear of repercussions stop you from achieving your desires?

pairing: Sanctarch!Rafayel x Empress!Reader word count: 3.2k content: MDNI, explicit sexual content, AFAB!reader, nipple play, fingering, cunnilingus, p in v, unprotected sex, slight Dom!Reader, slight Sub!Rafayel   author's note: This is my first LADS fic so I hope you enjoy! I really loved the Throne of Eros event and the dynamic between MC and Rafayel in 'Fires of Devotion'. As a lot of us felt, the ending was a little rushed so this is my attempt at an epilogue to their story. I just can't help giving them a happy ending. Crossposted on AO3 if you prefer to read there. 

The stars danced brightly across the sky on the first anniversary eve of the Empress’s coronation. You had once again returned to the Sanctide Court’s chapel, to the same, familiar room you had occupied before. But unlike last year, your mind is not filled with questions about the Sanctarch, his motivations and desires, or the nature of the dangerous but irresistible relationship that was growing between you.

Everything had been revealed when the Sanctarch had forced you to confront the truth of your heart — the deep, uncompromising devotion that you felt for him. A feeling that some might call love, but both of you knew that that was too common a word to describe what existed between you.

Your ladies-in-waiting believed you to be resting in your chambers, preparing for the celebrations that would endure from one dawn to the next. But you had long absconded from your room. You waited beside the prepped airship, staring at the door that you had once blindly opened last year. Despite wearing only a thin nightdress, you were not cold. Together, you and the stars waited in anticipation for his arrival.

"My dear Empress," a familiar, seductive voice whispered into your ear from behind. "What a surprise to see you here, and on the eve of such an important day no less.”

You released a small chuckle. "A pleasure as always, your Quintessence."

Rafayel circled you, letting his fingers dance across the small of your back as he moved. Goosebumps erupted over your skin in his wake. He stopped in front of you and smiled. As he always did during their secret meetings, he had forgone the vestments of the Sanctarch. With you, he was just Rafayel.

“Are we feeling sentimental, your Majesty?” he asked, his eyes glimmering with fondness.

Years of training allowed you to keep your desire under control — to stop yourself from grasping his clothes and pulling him into a deep kiss, forgoing all the plans you had taken months to organize.

"Your appearance here raises the same questions. It would appear that we are both feeling sentimental this evening."

A rare smile bloomed on his face; a smile that you were only graced with when you were alone, able to be yourselves instead of the titles you wore daily.

“I was hoping you might join me for an excursion.”

Rafayel's attention turned to the airship behind you. "So, is this the night where we finally elope?"

"Something like that."

"I've felt your nervousness all week through the bond." Rafayel's hand stroked your arms. Soft, gentle caresses that excited rather than soothed. "What mischief do you have planned?"

"You'll just have to wait and see."

You reached out and took his bare hand. Feeling his skin against yours was a special kind of bliss — a private indulgence that you could never get enough. Your moments alone were too few and far between; however long you got to bask in the feeling of being uncovered was never long enough.

You boarded the spaceship together. In the cockpit, you took the helm and began to pilot with a practiced confidence. Rafayel watched your every movement, eyes tracking the sure way you flicked each switch and pressed each button to get the ship up and moving.

The flight was a familiar one. Despite recognizing the route you were taking, Rafayel did not comment on it. Instead, you spoke about the week's events — what each of you had noticed at the numerous celebrations. You discussed which nobles were taking the festivities as a chance to show true fealty to the Empire and which ones were showing deference to the Sanctide Court.

Others might view using your limited time together for politicking as a waste, but to you, it was part of the thrill of finally being alone. In public, you were reluctant allies that barely managed to keep up polite conversation when in each others’ presence. In private, you shared everything with each other. There were no secrets between you. The future of the Alore Galaxy was decided by your hands together; every move and countermove was a delicate dance that you had choreographed together.

Finally, you arrived at the Butterfly Nebula. The cockpit was abandoned and you moved to the viewing balcony. Two stunning silver goblets sat with a bottle of wine on a side table. Rafayel reverently traced the cups before pouring out the wine. He approached you from behind, handing you your wine before snaking one arm around your waist possessively. Your back met his firm chest with a gentle thud; it felt like home.

Together, you gazed at the nebula in awe. Witnessing the purple and red hues of the phenomena ignited a storm of memories and emotions in the small space. It was impossible to ignore the echoes of your last time being here. The offer Rafayel had made. Your rejection.

"Do you still envy the meteoroids?"

You took a sip of your wine and considered the sight ahead of you. The way the tiny pieces of each meteoroid fanned out across the cosmos to create a dancing butterfly. The result of the collision was mesmerizing — a stunning spectacle that spoke of fated, mutual destruction.

"No. I suppose I no longer yearn for destiny. My future is what I make of it, and that thought fills me with hope."

A content and companionable silence filled the airship as the truth of your words settled into your bones. You drank from your goblets at a languid pace, savoring a rare moment in your lives when there was no need to hurry or rush. You could simply... exist.

"Several rumors have reached my ears of late."

If Rafayel was surprised by the change of topic, he did not show it. His eyes remained fixed on the view ahead. His dexterous fingers continued their idle coaxing at your waist. Despite the thin, silk fabric that separated his hand from your skin, you felt every soft touch like you were naked. Tiny sparks of desire ignited at every tap. "Is that so?"

"The strengthening relationship between the Empire and the Sanctide Court has been the topic of much speculation. The masses wonder what sparked such a change between two factions that were on the brink of war before the new Empress came into power."

"Much has changed in the last year of the new Empress's reign."

Gingerly, Rafayel grabbed your goblet and placed it and his own back on the table. His hands, which had been lazily toying with you just moments before, began to move up your sides. He stroked your exposed skin, following the edge of the nightdress to the area below your breasts. It was a ghost of a caress; you were almost unsure if he truly touched you at first. But the change in his intention was clear. Your breath hitched as a deep, unreachable desire coiled in your stomach.

"They wonder if perhaps… If there is a personal reason for the collaboration. After all, they all saw the Sanctarch and the Empress leading up to her coronation."

“Mmm...” Rafayel hummed. His fingers stroked higher, making lazy circles around your areola, avoiding your nipples by the slightest margin. Every pass that narrowly missed caused the ache between your thighs to intensify. "They did have wonderful chemistry during their play."

"So I wonder if it is time to put these rumors to rest."

This took Rafeyel’s attention away from his ministrations. You slipped out of his arms and turned to face him. His blue and pink eyes met yours with an intensity that took your breath away.

"What do you have in mind, your Majesty?"

"A union. A marriage between the Empress and the Sanctarch."

The colors of the nebula swam across Rafayel's face as he stared at you with surprise, and then with deep hunger. He surged forward, cupping your face, and devoured your mouth with his own. You moved as one, him pushing and you relenting. You slammed against the viewing window. The wings of the Butterfly Nebula bloomed from your back.

"Finally," he groaned. His hot mouth moved over your jaw and to your neck. He nipped and sucked at the tender flesh, drawing out soft pants and whimpers from your throat.

The heat of Rafayel's body fought with the harsh cold of the glass behind you. You were sweating and shivering simultaneously, every sensation heightened by the opposing temperatures surrounding you.

"Do you know how long I have waited for you to come to the same conclusion? To see our future with the same clarity that I have seen it with for months?"

He bit down hard on your neck. You cried out in a mixture of pain and pleasure as he replaced his teeth with his tongue, gently lapping at the bite to soothe it.

"R-Raf-" you moaned.

"How hard it was to keep my thoughts to myself, resisting the urge to kneel at your feet and demand that we let the whole Empire know that you are mine?"

The strap of your nightdress fell down your shoulder, revealing your left breast. Rafayel paused, his eyes hungrily drinking in your exposed skin. The attention made your nipple stiffen. You knew that if he was to reach between your thighs, he would find you dripping for him, even now before he had truly begun to try in earnest to make you write with pleasure. With a controlled slowness that made your throat feel tight, Rafayel's mouth descended to your erect nipple and sucked.

Groaning, you pushed your chest forward, urging him to suck harder, to keep giving you everything you wanted; everything you needed. His response was immediate. Shock waves of pleasure bloomed across your breasts with each pull of his lips against your hardened peaks. When the pleasure began to almost become too much, when the words ‘stop’ began to almost form in your mind, he switched his attention to the other breast, keeping your arousal from reaching a point that he was not quite yet ready for it to reach.

“Rafayel, please...”

He lifted his head and stared into your eyes. Without looking away, his hand began to pull down the other strap. The nightdress fell into a heap at your feet.

“What is it that your Majesty desires from her Sanctarch?”

With steady hands, you caressed the collar of his robes. “I wish to see you laid bare on your knees before me.”

“As your Majesty wills it.”

The warmth left with Rafayel as he pulled away. A shiver raced across your wired body; a desperate, delicious ache between your legs accompanied it, causing you to whimper.

Rafayel never looked away as he disrobed at a maddeningly slow pace. Every small reveal of smooth, perfect skin was a feast for the barely contained hunger that lived within you. Though you had seen him naked many times in the past year as you explored each other, his body never failed to make your heart race.

He fell to his knees with an air of devotion and reverence that made your head spin. It was an act of vulnerability that never failed to stoke the fires of your desire. Another flush of arousal rocked through your core. Slick wetness slid down the inside of your thighs as he leaned forward, rubbing his head against your thigh.

“Your smell... please let me taste you, Empress,” he whined, face ghosting just below where he so desperately wanted to be.

Your heart hammered against your ribs as you gazed down at the sight. Everything in you demanded that you lace your hands into his lavender locks, suffocating him in your cunt. But denying him, and yourself, was almost as perfectly delicious as giving in.

“You haven’t given me an answer yet, Rafayel,” you reminded him. Gently, you brushed a lock of his hair from his forehead. He shivered as your fingertips ghosted over his cheek.

“Your Majesty has yet to formally ask.”

You moved with surprising quickness, one hand snaking into his hair and sharply pulling his head back. The other gripped his chin, forcing his head into the position you desired.

“Will you marry me?”

“Yes,” he groaned. Relief flooded through your body, causing you to loosen your grip. He took the opportunity to launch forward. His hands gripped your ass with an impossible firmness and his mouth descended on you.

“Oh fuck!” you moaned as he assaulted you with an uncontained passion.

Long strokes of his tongue coaxed out moans and gasps of pleasure. He quickly narrowed his focus to your clitoris, causing the slowly building pressure to quickly escalate. Using his grip on your ass and your back on the window as leverage, you lifted your trembling legs up onto his shoulder and around his head. He hummed in approval and redoubled his efforts.

"Yes, yes! Ahh- yes, Rafayel!"

Without warning, Rafayel grabbed your waist and pulled you from against the window and brought you to the floor of the spaceship. Your legs remained wrapped around his head, but now, his hands were free to roam. You barely noticed the hard surface of the metal floor as Rafayel took the opportunity to slide two fingers into you. There was no resistance as he entered you, and your walls quickly clamped down on his fingers, pulsing in rhythm with each lick of his tongue.

"Shit! Please, yes!"

The only indication that Rafayel heard you was the quickening of his pace. He pumped into your core with his two fingers, dragging against your g-spot with every stroke. The wet sound of him fucking you with his fingers echoed through the spaceship, overlapping with your loud and breathy moans.

Your back arched as he added a third finger. The burn of the stretch spurred on your impending climax. Everything around you faded away and all that was left was Rafayel. He was all you could smell, feel and see.

His tongue flicked over your clitoris once, twice, and you burst.

"Ahh!"

He continued to pump into you through your orgasm, extending your pleasure over several moments. As you came down from your high, he planted soft kisses along your stomach, over your chest and up to your waiting lips. All the time, his fingers remained inside you, gently stroking your inner walls, keeping you almost delirious with pleasure.

"My dearest Empress," he whispered between kisses, "you are perfection given form."

"And you, Sanctarch," you replied amidst your own lazy pecks, "are more precious to me than the entire Empire. And tomorrow, the entire galaxy will know it."

"So soon? Have you no patience?" The bite of his teasing was lessened by the boyish grin plastered on his flushed face.

"I've had enough of waiting, Rafayel."

"And what will you do when the nobility inevitably refuses to accept our betrothal?" Rafayel traced his fingers down your chest, absently doodling small patterns across your stomach in your release that still clung to his skin.

You wrapped your thighs around Rafayel's middle and twisted, reversing your positions so that you are straddling him, looking down at him from above once again.

"The punishment for treason is execution, is it not?" You began to move back and forth, letting your still dripping core rub against his rigid cock. He hissed at the contact and instinctually gripped your hips tightly, keeping your centre against him. Your hips moved without you even thinking, chasing the delicious friction between your two sexes. "Surely the threat of death is enough to keep them in line."

"And if it's not?" His eyes were locked on the space between your thighs, watching as his cock disappeared and reappeared between your glistening folds with every rock of your hips. "What will you do then?"

"Then I will go to war." With a single motion, you rose up just enough so that you could sink down on his entire length in one action.

"Fu- fuck!" Rafayel's head snapped back as he squeezed his eyes closed in pleasure. "You feel heavenly…"

You began bouncing at a relentless pace atop Rafayel. The obscene sound of flesh slapping together spurred you on, causing you to clamp around him even tighter than before.

"Will the Sanctide Court go to war for me?" you asked, maintaining your composure as best as you could as Rafayel fell apart below you. You reached out and inserted two fingers into his open mouth. He immediately began to suck on them, moaning loudly as you matched the pace of your hips to the thrust of your fingers. "Will you be my sword if I ask?"

"Yes," he groaned. "I will destroy the entire Galaxy if you will it. Everything I have, everything I am, it is yours. As long as I can- fuck- as long as I can stay by your side."

"Good."

You leaned forward and Rafayel rose to meet you part way. Your mouths met in a wild dance of teeth and tongues. He began to thrust up to meet you, quickening the already brutal pace you had set before. You grasped at his back, trying to find a steadying anchor in the turbulent sea that was Rafayel.

"I need- I need to feel you cum around me," Rafayel begged, his forehead against your shoulder. He kept one arm wrapped around your back and snaked the other between your bodies. He found your clitoris easily and began swirling his fingers over it. "Please."

"Mh- so c-close!" Each and every thrust already had you hurtling towards release, and Rafayel's fingers were the final thing you needed to push you over the edge. Your climax shot through you, setting every nerve alight inside you.

"God, so good… the way you squeeze me, fuck-" Rafayel babbled as his pace became broken and messy. With one final, powerful thrust, his body shuddered hard as he found his release within you. You could feel each pulse of his cock inside you, almost sending you right back to the edge of another orgasm.

You refused to release each other as you came down from the high of your mutual climaxes. Both your bodies were hot and wet from the exertion. The colors of the Butterfly Nebula danced across your bodies.

"I love you," you mumbled between labored breaths.

Rafayel's grip around your back tightened. He nuzzled your neck affectionately before lifting his lips to your ear.

"No matter what the future holds for us, your Majesty, you will always have me at your side. I love you."

[a-hermit-pining]

Crown For a Flower

Request: @queenondeezmatatas A RAFAYEL MERMAID AU SET IN THE 1800s WHERE MC IS A ROYAL LIVING IN A CASTLE BY THE SEA OFC AND THEIR LOVE IR FORBIDDEN BUT IT DONT MATTER PLSSSSS PLS PLS PLS let them be happy even if just for a millisecond😭🙏🏻

AN: This turned out to be different but I could not resist this idea. I just love dramatic stories sooooooo much. It isn't 1800s esque but I promise to get to that someday.

Pairing: Rafayel x Empress Reader

Genre: Fluff and ROMANCE

Summary: "It was a wedding unlike any other," the merwoman whispered to her sleepy daughter. "The union of Prince Rafayel and the Empress..." And so, she began to tell the tale.

The Lemurian court waited. Bowed on their knees. The seabed itself trembled beneath the drums that announced the emperor.

The tyrant. He who bled both lands and seas, had come. Invading the quiet bliss of Lemuria to uphold the ancient oath.

Peace had arrived with feet that dragged blood into its halls.

To wed, to form an alliance, the emperor came. And just like that, the court bowed lower, accepting the wedding that promised an end to a one-sided war.

Rafayel bowed with the rest of his father’s brood. The bastard, crouched behind the legitimate princes.

And standing at the altar was his aunt, Talia. The bride. The offering.

Where there should have been shame, there was only relief.

Assurance that their world would be spared. That the emperor would not strip the very seas of water to slaughter every last one of their kin.

Worse things had been done to the dragons of the West, burned alive with the mountains they guarded. And to the angels, plucked from the skies to amuse the emperor’s court.

So, marriage was a merciful fate.

It would grant them protection, from the emperor, and the monsters he had made of all others.

“All bow to the sovereign of the world,” a guard announced. And the kneeling court bowed further still.

The footfalls of soldiers echoed through the sacred hall. The clang of armor, the hiss of swords that had bled nations.

And yet, within that grim procession, there came a note of sweetness. A chime, delicate as windchimes swaying in spring.

A sound not of death, but of beauty.

“Rise.” The voice rang clear. Firm, but not unkind.

And in place of the tyrant, stood you.

The princess. Now crowned. Now empress.

Rafayel stared from a distance, his view obstructed by the silhouettes before him. But he could still hear the sound, the cheerful chime of a silver hairpin catching the current. Even as the court broke into whispers.

“I apologize,” you said, “but my father did not live to keep his word. So I have come. His heir. I shall complete this alliance.”

Rafayel pushed through the crowd, just in time to see you standing before Talia, your hand outstretched.

“That is, if your heart is not taken by another.”

The tyrant who tormented heavens, earth, and sea, had fallen. Slain by his own daughter, with the same cruelty he had borne unto others.

And now, the savior of worlds stood in their court. Not with demands, but to keep the word of peace.

The word of marriage went out. Of the newest empress seeking her groom. Word carried to every corner of Lemuria.

A simple challenge accompanied it. Issued in the quiet wake of Aunt Talia stepping down from the marriage proposal.

Rafayel stared at the wooden box in his brother’s hand. It was smooth, polished, its grain fine beneath his fingers, like a breath trapped in time.

To win the empress’s hand, One only had to open the box.

But not with hands. Not with keys. Not with tools.

The box was to be opened by its own element. In a way that required no force.

And those who resorted to force, who pried or cracked or cut, had been named. Called out by you directly.

The court had been abuzz with the puzzle. Dozens had tried.

None had succeeded.

Whatever lived inside the box shattered at the touch of violence.

A box that refused to be opened with force…What could slip into the very grain of wood itself?

"May I?" Rafayel asked quietly.

His brother sighed, handing over the box before marching off in exasperation.

Rafayel hadn't been given one of his own. He wasn’t even meant to be a part of the challenge. No one expected anything from the bastard son, barely a prince.

But he had wanted to try. Not for the marriage. Not for a crown.

He just wanted a reason to see you again.

To get a little closer. To catch another glimpse of the hairpin that had snared his attention in the court. It haunted him now. It rang through his sleep. Slipped into his drawings.

It was everywhere. Like you.

And this box… this puzzle… It was the only way to stand in your presence again.

To look at the one who wore the chime in her hair.

The one who was leaving tonight.

Leaving behind the challenge. Leaving behind Lemuria. To return to your empire.

Unless. He could solve it. Unless he could make the box bloom.

He will find you. He will make it so that you come to him

As his bride.

You stared at the block. A blooming weed stared back.

After two months, the answer to your challenge finally arrived from the courts of Lemuria.

Delicate wood had been parted. Split not by blades, nor keys, But by the slow persistence of roots.

A flower had bloomed, and in blooming, revealed your heart. Your aether core within the box.

A soft laugh bubbled from your throat. Not of amusement. But of quiet, content recognition.

A fragment of your soul seemed to glow from the cracks. Your heart, unveiled. Nestled between petals.

"Let it be known," you said, rising to your feet, "that the Empress is eager to be wed, to the one who holds the mind to unveil my heart with such beauty."

You turned, voice unwavering, lips soft with something dangerously close to a smile.

"Prepare for the wedding."

They say he never tried to pry the box open.

While others scorched it with spells, cracked it with blades, whispered incantations to break its seal. Rafayel only placed it in the sun.

He watered the soil beneath it each morning. Let the dew kiss its corners. Watched for mold, checked the grain.

He tilted it toward the light when the tide shifted, knelt beside it to whisper apologies on stormy nights. Some nights he rested beside it, cheek pressed to the stone, breathing with it as though it were alive.

And when he noticed a single thread of green peeking from beneath the lid, he didn't touch it. He simply watched.

And when the bloom finally opened, delicate and white, cradled in the broken seal, he wept.

Leaf by leaf, he witnessed the box part, not with force, but with trust.

Its edges softened. Its roots slipped into the wood like secrets. He charted the curves of each petal. Studied how they curled. How they clung.

Not for triumph. But for the quiet, impossible sight of your aether core. Glimmering red piece of you that lay in his blooms.

A treasure that refused to yield to force. Had revealed itself under his care.

"It was a wedding unlike any other," the merwoman whispered to her sleepy daughter. "The union of Prince Rafayel and the Empress..."

And so, she began to tell the tale.

Welcomed with gentle waves, the new Empress walked along a path paved in gold coins and pearls.

With a procession of two hundred, the humans came to Lemuria. With drums, with songs, with joy that had been lost for centuries.

Never before had there been such grandeur. Not for a wedding. Not for any union.

With them came the surviving dragons, seeking the calm of the sea to soothe their scorched wounds. Elves from ancient forests. Fae from veiled worlds. Angels, freed from their shackles.

Delicacies unheard of were offered to the court. Treasures brought by every race to honor the Empress who had brought order from ruin.

Peace had come to Lemuria with the promise of this union, but it had touched the entire world. It was as if the whole of creation had paused, just to witness them.

And Rafayel stood at the altar, when he heard the chimes again.

He looked up.

And there you were.

He had to force his eyes away from your hairpin, to allow himself the full, unshaken sight of you. Standing beneath the Cove of Oaths, you wore no crown. Only the hairpin.

And nestled beside it, his flower. His breath caught.

The vow taken by the heart of the ocean.

You stepped closer, alone in this moment. Alone in this oath.

This belonged to no court, no kingdom, no god. Only to you and him.

"You already have my heart," you said, smiling softly as you stood before him. "Yet, I have not had the chance to have yours." You tilted your head, "Is this to your wish? Our wedding, is it more than an oath to you?"

And Rafayel looked at the flower.

"Pilin flowers," he said quietly, "grow only with love."

"They bloom yellow with infatuation... blue with lust..."

His hand rose, fingers trembling as they brushed the white petals resting in your braid.

"And white," he whispered, "with love."

[tonightwrites]

The Strong-Willed Empress

Yandere Male Concubines x Empress Darling

Chapter 1 “Her Loyal Hound”

Requested by: @yandere-dark-cupid thank you for the idea!

TW: Yandere tendencies, manipulation, future NSFW, gore, toxic relationships, and other things like this.

     Dominic woke up to the empty bed of the Empress. The bed was still warm on her side, meaning she couldn’t have gone far. Dominic played with the blood red leather collar around his neck. The panic of not being able to see his empress makes him aggressive and on edge. He finally had the strength to get up off the silk bed sheets, his knees almost giving out on him. Last night was amazing! Of course it was! He spent it with his Empress! 

The thought of it making his mood so much better than before and walked to the bathroom door on the west side of the room. Dominic knocked on the door and stayed leaning against it for a while waiting for a response. 

“Yes, you can come in Domi.” The sweet, irresistible voice of his empress called out to him. Her nickname for him gave him shivers down his spine. He opened the door after the chills calmed down and the bumps on his tanned skin went away. The sight before him made his eyes wide and jaw drop. Drool leaked out of his mouth. There in all her beauty stood the Empress with a bathrobe on fresh out of the bath. 

The Empress looked at the reaction he had to seeing her in such atire, it amused her greatly. She let a small smile grace her beautiful face and Dominic practically melted. Knees growing weak and brain turning to mush, she smiled at him after all, which is already a rare occurrence. 

She walked past him with ease and elegance, headed for the walk-in closet next to the bathroom. Dominic followed her like a puppy following its master. A door shut in his face by the Empress herself, wanting to change without prying eyes. He felt hurt, but knew she likes the privacy she so rarely has. 

Suddenly the main door slammed open by a guard needing to speak to the empress about a letter that came from the Kingdom of Zandonia. Curious, Dominic went over to the guard to see what it said.

“Sorry Sir Dominic, this is for the Empress’ eyes only.” The captain of the guard stated to him while holding the precious parchment away from Dominic’s desperate hands. 

“Give it to me Alun!” Dominic said in a feeble attempt to persuade the man to give him the letter. In response, Alun just simply held it above his reach. Contradicting his name Alun, meaning little, he is the largest man in the palace.  Alun heard the click of heels before Dominic could. He straightened up his back and stood at full attention.

 The Empress came out of the closet wearing a simple but regal, deep blue dress. Walking to where the two men were, she took the parchment out of Alun’s hand and read it. Her eyebrows creasing in thought, deciding what to do next with the offer she just received.

“Your Majesty,

Greetings from the Kingdom of Zandonia. I, King Afonso Amos , wish to offer my son, Prince Thiago Amos, to you as a consort or concubine of your choosing. I offer you my son in exchange of peace and a treaty between us. A war not fought is the greatest kind. 

Long live the Empress- King Afonso Amos”

Part 2 

Part 3

Masterlist~

[joonie7007]

I’m so late but I just listened to heavy metal lover by lady Gaga for the first time and this song make me think of women in power like royalty or some fics // I don’t care if you’re a ruthless king or wtv I want you to get on ur knees in front of the whole kingdom for me kiss my feet do what I sayy / or queen / empress reader with Yandere prince or some lolz xp

[cuteconsortboys]

Consort Itachi x Empress Reader - Family is formed both by blood and by choice

Word count: 10.5k

THIS IS SET IN A MATRIARCHY WORLD

Summary: On the day Sasuke was born, Itachi promised to always be his protector. When he was young, it was easy, cuddles after nightmare, kisses on his grazes, help with his reading... but his parents are trying to arrange Sasuke’s marriage and protecting Sasuke is suddenly a whole lot harder. Itachi needs his wife on side for this.  Empress!Fem!Reader x consort Itachi (minor Sasuke x reader, Shino x reader, Neji x reader)

This is based on @dommyqueenwrites​ ’s idea about Itachi trying to get his brother into the royal harem with him to avoid Sasuke’s marriage to someone horrible. Thank you for letting me use the prompt!!! 

Warnings: Discussions of domestic abuse, mentions of sex, mentions of alcohol, panic attacks, character is locked in a room against their will, unhealthy parent child relationships. 

The echo of Itachi’s footsteps against the stone floor felt both far too loud in the empty corridors and far too quiet against the pounding of his heart.

He knew he was walking too fast; he was only half an extra step away from running really. If his mother could see him now, running through the halls of the Empress’s palace, hair dishevelled, outfit askew, make up being slowly eroded by sweat, well, she’d likely succumb to a heart attack.

Itachi himself wasn’t far off that either. If you’d told him yesterday that he’d be doing such a thing, Itachi would have been horrified and denied any such claims. This sort of uncivilised and childish behaviour reflected poorly on his wife, and as a husband, that was the last thing he should be doing.

But he couldn’t help himself. He needed to find you now.

Distracted by the constant bombardment of thoughts and anxiety, Itachi failed to hear the second set of footsteps coming from around the corner until it was too late.

Itachi slammed head on with a servant that was rounding the corner, knocking both of them backwards but thankfully not to the floor. He felt all the air leave his lungs at the impact, but the shame hit him harder.

“Wha-! Prince consort?! Are you alright?”

“Yes, I’m so sorry,” Itachi said breathlessly, already backing away. He didn’t have time for this. “I’m really sorry but I have to go.”

As much as it pained him to do it, Itachi turned from the servant and continued his search, his pace slightly reduced by the throbbing pain in his chest from the collision.

“Prince consort!” the servant called from behind. “Your hair piece!”

Itachi didn’t hear him over the thoughts knocking around in his head. He couldn’t stop repeating the lines he’d been forced to memorise in his childhood over and over again.

“A good husband’s hair should always be presentable and only worn down in the presence of family or his wife.”

Itachi didn’t want to imagine the state of his hair, but he knew that at least half of the strands had fallen out of place.

“A good husband should not sweat in front of others. If he is hot, he should move more slowly or relocate to the shade.”

Itachi could feel the loose strands sticking to his face.

“A good husband is modest and wears his clothes correctly at all times.”

Itachi was holding up the hem of his kimono to make running easier, and he knew that a sizeable part of his lower legs were on display for anyone who happened to see.

Shame burned like a sun inside Itachi’s chest, crawling its way up his throat until he felt like being sick.

He was being a bad husband.

Bad husband. Bad husband. Bad husband.

No. He pushed those thoughts down to deal with later. He couldn’t let himself get caught up in that now. He had to find his wife. He didn’t know what else to do after what had happened earlier at his parents’ estate.

…

“Itachi!” his mother called out as he entered the tearoom escorted by his father. “You’re here! It’s been so long since you came to visit, I thought you’d forgotten about us.”

She stood up and hugged him to her chest while his father sat down at the table she had just vacated.

“I could never mother,” Itachi denied lightly. “I have been busy at the palace recently, but I am glad to finally get the chance to return home, even if only for a brief time.”

“Oh, just look at you,” she sighed happily, cupping his face in her hands gently enough to avoid smudging his light make up. “My beautiful boy, you look stunning. Oh? And what’s this?”

She used the grip she had on his face to tilt his head to the side so that she could see the hair ornament he was currently wearing. It was a hair pin with the design of a dove made solely out of jewels and pearls, with emerald eyes as its centrepiece. It was Itachi’s favourite and he’d yet to see a hair pin so beautiful.

“It was a gift from my wife, mother.” Itachi answered, a little smile creeping up onto his face automatically. “Isn’t it lovely?”

“Lovely? It’s looks positively ethereal! Are they real emeralds?”

“Yes, mother.”

“Oh, I just knew the Empress would favour you the most! How could anyone resist? Does she give her other consorts gifts as expensive as this?”

Itachi hesitated. He didn’t like to brag about such things, but he knew what his mother wanted to hear and he was eager for this visit to go as smoothly as possible.

“No, mother. None as expensive as this.”

“That’s good to hear. You need to remain her favourite for as long as possible, you understand? Have you been using the anti-aging creams I’ve been sending you?”

“Of course, mother.”

“Good. I’m proud of you, Itachi,” she grinned at him for a moment before her face dropped. “I just wish I could say the same about your brother.”

Suddenly, the room was filled with tension. Had Itachi been any less proficient at hiding his emotions he would have sighed. He knew that this visit had been going suspiciously well.

“Where is Sasuke?” Itachi asked, trying to cut through the tension. “I’d like to see him before I leave because it is the Empress’s birthday next month and I will be very busy with the preparations.”

If anything, the tension only increased as his father and mother made eye contact with each other, an unspoken conversation clearly passing between them. Itachi felt the beginning of some nerves crawling under his skin. His parents had never been the kindest to Sasuke who they seemed to think was too brash, too outspoken, and too focused on ‘women’s skills’ like martial art training, but the hostility Itachi could sense here was still abnormal.

“Mother, father, where is Sasuke?” Itachi asked again.

“Sasuke is being confined to his room for the time being as punishment for causing a scene at an important dinner the other day,” his father eventually answered, avoiding Itachi’s eyes.

The words were innocent enough. Sasuke often acted out in front of others, and being confined to his room seemed, at the very least, not a cruel punishment. Sasuke would likely complain about being unable to train but that would be the worst of it.

So why didn’t Itachi find his father’s answer comforting at all?

There was just something… off about the whole situation.

“Then, would it be okay for me to see him in his room before I leave?”

His mother and father made significant eye contact with each other again, until eventually his mother nodded.

“Only for a short while, he’s still being punished, but it might do him some good to be reminded of what a good man and husband is supposed to be.”

Although unnecessary, because Itachi had grown up in this house, his mother led him upstairs to Sasuke’s room. It quickly became clear why when she pulled a key on a chain out from under her shirt and used it to unlock the door.

The door was being locked. Red flag number one.

“I thought I told you to leave me the fuck alone.”

Sasuke’s voice came from behind the door before it was even opened, but his aggression and vulgar language quickly triggered anger in his mother, who, without missing a beat, slammed the door open and marched in.

“I’ve told you before, you little brat, if you use language like that again, there will be no dinner for you!”

“Fuck if I care.”

Itachi walked into the surprisingly dim room, feeling nervous from all the conflict and saw that Sasuke was laying completely still in bed, a blanket over his head. Red flag number two.

Looking around a little more, Itachi noticed that there were large scratch mark all around the window as though someone had been using something sharp to get the window open. Red flag number three.

Said window was bordered shut, hence why the room was so dim. Red flag number four.

And to top it all off, along the edge of the room there were piles of broken furniture, ripped books and smashed porcelain, like someone had destroyed the whole room in a fit of anger. If Itachi squinted, he could see what looked like some bloodstains here and there as well. Red flag number five.

By this point, Itachi’s mother was in the middle of a tirade like he’d never seen, but Itachi knew that something wasn’t right, and he needed a chance to speak to Sasuke alone.

“Mother,” Itachi interrupted, careful to keep his voice gentle and delicate so she wouldn’t turn on him for interrupting her. “Would you be able to bring Sasuke and I some tea? I haven’t much time left before I need to leave.”

She blinked at him for a moment and Itachi held his breath to see how she would respond. To his relief she smiled and walked away from Sasuke’s bed.

“Of course, dear,” she agreed, putting a soft hand on his cheek. “You’re a busy man, of course, I understand. The work you do for our family is invaluable, so the least I can do is get you some tea. Oh… but I’m afraid there isn’t anywhere to sit because Sasuke decided to throw a tantrum and ruin his own bedroom, but I’ll bring a chair up too.”

“Thank you, mother, that’s very kind of you.”

“Of course. I’ll be back in a moment.”

The second the door shut behind her, Sasuke ripped the covers off of his head, shot out of bed and grabbed Itachi by the arms before he could react. Sasuke looked thin and haggard. He was dressed in pyjamas and his hair had clearly gone unbrushed for days. But the worst part about his appearance was his eyes. They looked manic, desperate even, something Itachi never wanted to see in his baby brother.

“Saskue, what’s happening? What’s going on?” Itachi implored Sasuke to answer him, gripping his arms back. His words were hushed and rushed to keep them from being overheard by his mother returning or one of the servants.

“Brother, you’re here,” Sasuke breathed out like he couldn’t believe that Itachi was standing in front of him.

“Sasuke, we don’t have much time, you have to tell me what’s going on,” Itachi tried to keep his voice firm but the sense of dread that had been hanging over him since entering the house was just getting stronger and stronger.

“They-“ Sasuke’s lip wobbled a little and he cut himself off. This wasn’t typical behaviour for him at all. Itachi couldn’t help but pull Sasuke into his arms, uncaring whether his expensive clothes were being ruined by Sasuke’s unclean pyjamas.

“Shh, what happened, Sasuke, please tell me.”

“They’re going to marry me off!” Sasuke blurted out into Itachi’s shoulder before he pulled away, angrily wiping at his watery eyes. Those were angry tears, Itachi had seen Sasuke cry them thousands of times in his life and recognised them instantly.

Itachi supressed a frustrated sigh. Of course, his parents wouldn’t be content with his marriage, even if it was to the Empress. No, of course they’d try to arrange Sasuke’s as well, just to try and get a little bit more power and a little bit more money. It was always power and money with them. Nothing would ever be enough.

“To whom?” Itachi hesitantly asked. Because that was the question, wasn’t it? The answer had the power to turn this from a bad situation to the worst situation in an instant. Was Sasuke upset about being married? Or was he upset about who he was being married to?

A second cursory glance at the broken furniture around his room didn’t make Itachi feel optimistic about Sasuke’s answer. Names and faces flew in and out of his mind as he tried to figure out who his parents had chosen, but Sasuke killed all those thoughts dead when he said the name.

“Himari Yamagawa.”

Itachi took in a sharp breath. No. They couldn’t have.

Himari Yamagawa. Itachi knew her. Or, well, he perhaps it’d be more accurate to say that he knew of her, because they only really spoken once at an event at the palace last year. And even that was a bit of a stretch because she’d never actually addressed him directly, always speaking about him to his wife, even though he was standing right next to her.

When you had brought that up, he remembered her making a crude joke about how mens’ mouths were only good for one thing.

But her ‘charming’ personality was only the surface of the problem. There were much darker parts to her personality that were bubbling underneath the surface.

She had a reputation for collecting husbands with ‘attitude problems’. Itachi remembered his wife telling him that she had been bragging that she’d never had a wedding where the other party wasn’t handcuffed and blindfolded. She was known for ‘training’ her husbands out of their bad behaviour with some horrific methods. Itachi had overheard some of his servants talking about some of those methods before, and it had put him off his dinner that night.

Of course, his wife, upon hearing about the evil woman, had introduced a new set of laws about marital abuse, but unfortunately, Himari was rich enough that she had simply moved just across the border to escape.

She wasn’t exactly a fan of the Empress, but she didn’t cause any direct problems, seemingly content with loopholes and bribes that allowed her to do as she pleased. But, while she wasn’t especially dangerous to the imperial family, she was deadly to any man unfortunate enough to end up married to her.

And apparently Sasuke was the one she currently had her beady eyes on. Itachi wasn’t surprised now that he thought about it. Sasuke had two things that made him perfect for her: he was cheap due to the fact that he’d already had five marriage offers fall through, and he was rebellious and stubborn, the exact type of man she loved to ‘break’.

His parents weren’t going to give up on this easily, but as Itachi stared into Sasuke’s desperate gaze, he knew he had to do whatever he could to get his brother out of this situation, one way or another. Itachi felt a level of fury that he’d never felt before burning beneath his skin.

How dare they.

“You have to help me escape,” Sasuke said, grabbing Itachi by the shoulders, eyes wide. “I’ve been trying but they’ve bordered up the window and locked the door. You have to help me. You said you loved me, that you’d do anything to help me. This is what I need. Help me now and I’ll never ask for anything again. Please! Big brother, please.”

“Sasuke-“

“That bitch is sending guards on Wednesday to watch me 24/7 until the wedding and I think mother has been slipping something into my food to make me tired and weak. Brother, please.”

“Sasuke,” Itachi felt tears pooling in his eyes. This was like a nightmare. “I’ll try-“

Footsteps started approaching the door. They had run out of time.

“I’ll do something, okay, I’ll talk to my wife, we’ll do something!” Itachi whispered urgently.

“Brother, please don’t leave me here,” Sasuke begged, bottom lip wobbling again.

The door opened and their mother walked in carrying a chair in one arm and a tray with a tea pot and some cups balanced on the other. She stopped abruptly when she saw the way Sasuke was grabbing Itachi.

“You better not be harassing your brother, Sasuke,” she growled.

Sasuke just glared at her before collapsing back into bed and covering himself with his blanket the same way he’d been before.

The next hour was tense. Itachi was distracted and stressed behind his calm mask. He stayed only as long as politeness dictated, making some awkward small talk with his mother while Sasuke refused to speak a single word.

…

After that disastrous visit, Itachi felt like he had a good reason to be ruffled, despite the shame he was feeling at his lack of control. And now that he had checked your office, the main hall, the gardens, the music room and all the drawing rooms without success, his stress was only continuing to mount.

He’d been running around for so long by now, it was late enough that you might have already retired to you room. Itachi just hoped that you hadn’t gone to spend the night in any of the other consort’s rooms. This couldn’t wait until morning.

The door to your room came into view and Itachi, seeing no one else in the corridor, abandoned the final dregs of his composure and ran the last few metres, his feet slapping against the marble floors.

Please be in there, please be in there, Itachi begged every deity he’d ever heard of.

Itachi pushed open the doors, almost slamming his face into them in his haste.

And there you were. Thank goodness. Itachi took a deep shuddering breath of relief.

You had clearly been reading by the roaring fire before he’d burst in. You were wearing your pyjamas, with a glass of something Itachi couldn’t identify on the side table next to you. You would look relaxed if not for the way you stared at him with your mouth hanging open.

Itachi hadn’t looked at himself in a mirror since before he left to visit his parents this morning, but he knew he must look like quite a sight. But for once in his life, that wasn’t important.

“Itachi?” you sputtered, having recovered enough from the shock to finally push some words out. “What on earth-?”

Itachi knew it was wrong for him to interrupt you. It was one of the very first lessons drilled into his head as a child: when your wife is talking, you stay quiet and listen. But this time he didn’t. Instead, Itachi threw himself at your feet, bowed so low the loose pieces of hair that had fallen out while he ran rested almost entirely on the floor. With a desperate hand, he gripped tightly onto the fabric of your dressing gown.

He could feel the heat from the fire licking uncomfortably at his back, but he didn’t flinch at the discomfort; he was too focused. Or, as focused as he could be with such a fuzzy head.

Itachi had had all that time while he was travelling back from his parents’ and running around the castle trying to find you to get his thoughts in order and figure out what he was going to say, but now he was here, the words were stuck. The only thing escaping his mouth were the gasping breaths he couldn’t keep at bay.

He needed to talk.

He needed to help Sasuke.

His baby brother needed him to protect him, so why wouldn’t the words come out?!

The feeling of your hand on his head cut through his panic and jolted him from his thoughts.

“Please sit up, Itachi, you know you don’t have to do this sort of thing for me,” your voice was ever so soft, like you were coaxing a scared and cornered animal. Itachi noticed the way his hands were shaking and realised that he wasn’t far off. “Here, move away from the fire, I don’t want you to burn yourself, my love.”

Itachi allowed you to pull him from the floor and away from the fire. You abandoned your armchair in favour of sitting with him on the loveseat. You kept a hold of his hand the entire time, and Itachi was so grateful that you were there with him.

“Now, Itachi,” you looked at him with concerned eyes, softly rubbing the back of his hand with your thumb as you spoke. “Please tell me what’s wrong. This isn’t like you; did something happen while you were visiting your family today?”

This was it. All he had to do was tell you what had happened.

Itachi opened his mouth to do so, but to his utter mortification, a sob was the only thing to come out.

Mortified, Itachi wrenched his hand from yours and used it to cover his mouth. He couldn’t be doing this right now. He needed to be the older brother, he needed to keep it together for Sasuke. He needed to ask and bargain and plead, not cry like the useless boy his mother used to call him whenever he’d let tears escape as a child. Crying wasn’t going to solve anything.

“Hey, hey, it’s alright, Itachi,” you whispered, carefully pulling the hand away from his mouth and back into yours. “Whatever happened, we can sort it out together, okay?”

With those words, Itachi’s traitorous body obviously assumed it had permission, so the floodgates burst open, more and more sobs pushing out with frightening speed. All the anxiety, the stress, the panic, the dread, the exhaustion, all of it just crashed on top of Itachi all at once and soon, tears joined the sobbing and then refused to stop.

You had barely held your arms open for more than a second when Itachi accepted your embrace with enthusiasm that might have embarrassed him on any other day, and he was soon breaking down loudly on your shoulder.

…

You pressed Itachi’s face firmly into your shoulder, using your other hand to keep a solid grasp around his waist, hoping that the strong embrace would do something to calm him down. You were more than a little alarmed by his behaviour, and while you knew better than to bombard Itachi with questions while he was so upset, it didn’t stop you from theorising while you comforted him.

You had spent the night together yesterday and there had been nothing drastic amiss with him other than a few extra nerves about the visit to his parents, but Itachi was always nervous to go and see them and those nerves had never escalated into something like this.

No, you were sure that something had happened during his visit to his parents’ estate. But what? You knew full well that his relationship with his parents wasn’t the best, and you knew how much their conditional love hurt him, but it still felt like there was something more sinister going on.

And the way he had bowed at your feet earlier… he had wanted to ask you for something, no, beg you for something… but what?

Itachi suddenly let out a particularly loud sob that made your ear ring painfully and abruptly brought you back to reality. Those questions weren’t important right at this moment, you had something infinitely more important in your arms.

“Shh, it’s alright, I’ve got you,” you murmured. You shushed Itachi periodically, whispering nonsense comforting words into his ears, reassuring him that you were there for him. There wasn’t much else you could do to help soothe him without knowing what the problem was.

You smoothed down the flyaway strands of hair on his head absentmindedly. You’d seen him this morning with his hair styled with elaborate plaits and pins, eager to appear as put together as possible for his parents to prove to them that he was still as perfect as they’d always demanded he be.

But when he’d burst in a few minutes ago, falling through the heavy oak doors like he’d run into them headfirst, his hair had looked very different. Loose strands were everywhere, and not in an artful, purposeful way that you’d seen him do before, but chaotically, frizzy, with random pieces stuck to his face with sweat. The elaborate and frightfully expensive hair pin he’d used was nowhere to be seen.

His hair did give you an idea about how to calm him down though. Itachi loved when you played with his hair. You still remembered his face while you brushed his hair for him for the first time, shortly after you were married. He had basically melted into the bed, letting his guard down around you properly for the first time. You had half expected him to start purring.

But now, that weakness was a weapon in your comforting arsenal.

Gently and methodically, while Itachi continued to cry onto your shoulder in a way that was sure to leave a sizeable wet patch, you started undoing the plaits that were still intact.

You eased off the hair bands, gently unravelled the hair, and then ran your fingers through his newly wavy strands, pausing every couple of beats to massage his scalp to drive away any soreness cause by the hair style.

You took your time, repeating the sequence again and again for each plait, Itachi’s cries slowly but steadily quieting as you went, until there were no more plaits remaining and you were left lightly scratching at his scalp.

The room was a lot quieter now. The crackling of the fire and Itachi’s uneven, but much improved, breathing were the only things you could hear. You let out a relieved sigh and pressed a kiss to Itachi’s forehead.

“There,” you said cautiously, hoping that your next words wouldn’t upset him again. You just couldn’t let the cause of the breakdown pass unacknowledged anymore. If someone had hurt him, you needed to know. “Can you please tell me what happened, Itachi? No matter what or who it was that upset you, you know I’ll support and help you in any way I can, I promise.”

Itachi, thankfully, was receptive to your words and pulled his face away from your shoulder. However, he still didn’t look at you in the eye, hanging his head firmly down towards his lap, the curtain of newly released black hair hiding his face from your view. You tried to lift his face with you fingers, but he resisted and turned away from your touch. Maybe he wasn’t as ready to speak as you’d though.

“Itachi-“

“It’s messy,” he whispered in response to your unasked question.

Oh.

Oh. He was embarrassed by the mess left after his crying.

You opened a drawer in the end table by the love seat and pulled out a handkerchief before silently handing it to him. You wished he would trust you, trust your love, enough to let you help him clean up, or even just let you see him like this, but you understood that his childhood conditioning to always look perfect and pretty for his wife was hard to overcome.

It felt like everything was on pause as you watched Itachi delicately wipe at his face.

After about a minute and a half, Itachi clearly deemed himself presentable enough because he finally looked at you, soiled handkerchief gripped in his clenched fist.

His face really pulled at your heart strings. His eyes were puffy and red, his makeup was smudged more than you’d ever seen, leaving black streaks around his eyes, and red lipstick on his chin, and his nose was as red as his eyes from all the rubbing.

You said nothing, allowing him to collect himself a little without your interruption.

“It’s my brother,” Itachi whispered, eyes closing as though he were in pain.

His brother? Oh dear. You’d gathered very quickly into your relationship that Itachi had a weak spot the size of your entire empire in his brother.

“Sasuke?” you prompted gently, earning a nod and a hum from Itachi.

“I found out today that my parents have arranged for him to be married against his wishes. To Himari Yamagawa.”

Your face automatically twisted into a sneer before you could stop it. That slippery snake was becoming a rather persistent thorn in your side. She wasn’t a venomous snake, she never struck out at you with her fangs, no, she was a cowardly snake who slipped between any and every attempt you made to control her.

“That evil bitch.”

Itachi hummed in agreement. He was staring listlessly into the fire now. His face looked drained, like he’d used up all the emotions he had and was now too exhausted to show any more.

“My parents are desperate to get rid of Sasuke. They have been for a while, but since he turned eighteen two years ago, their desperation has only increased. But Sasuke has scared away five suitors now, and new ones are no longer coming now that word has spread,” Itachi’s voice was detached but you knew how much this hurt him to see his younger brother treated in such a way. “So, they’ve decided to marry him to someone who won’t be scared away by his behaviour.”

“I see.”

With that, Itachi took a deep breath and slid off of the loveseat until he was kneeling at your feet in the same way he had when he’d entered your bedroom.

“My wife, Empress, please. Please help me save my brother. I know he can be difficult, but he’s my little brother and I-“ silent tears started to run down your husband’s face once more. “I will do anything. Please, I beg of you.”

You couldn’t stand to watch him be so defeated and desperate.

“Itachi, my dearest husband, my prince consort, please stand.”

He immediately did as you asked. His lips were quivering, but he kept them pressed firmly together. He was determined to make sure he didn’t break down again.

“You never have to beg me for anything,” you promised firmly. “You need only ask, and I will do my best to deliver, first I want you to understand that.

“Next, I will say this: My happiness is your happiness. So, if Sasuke’s happiness is your happiness, then my happiness is also Sasuke’s happiness. I will get him out of there, I promise.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you so much,” Itachi’s voice was shaking, and you could tell it was only your order that he stand that was stopping him from embracing you once more. You opened your arms to make sure he knew he was welcome.

He took the offer straight away.

“Now, tell me everything. We need to make a plan.”

…

It had taken three hours holed up in your small, private study for you and Itachi to come up with a detailed plan to get Sasuke out of his situation. You were relying on the fact that Himari had given Sasuke a seemingly arbitrary date on which she would be placing her own bodyguards on Sasuke, something which suggested that the engagement contract would also be coming into effect on that day. Otherwise, why wouldn’t she have bodyguards on him already if she knew he was a flight risk?

No, you trusted your intuition here, which had meant that you and Itachi only had four days to execute your plan to bring Sasuke into the palace as part of your harem.

Itachi had been the first one to suggest that solution and despite a couple of other solutions being considered, that one was the most likely to succeed. No family hoping to retain a powerful standing among the nobles would turn down an invitation for their son to join the Empress’s personal harem, whether they wanted to or not.

Not that the Uchiha had been against it though. When you had proposed the engagement, Itachi and Sasuke’s parents had both been thrilled and agreed immediately. In fact, that evening, Itachi had shown you a letter his parents had slipped him during the meeting that was filled with praises about doing such a good job as head consort that the Empress had also taken an interest in his younger brother.

You had paid handsomely for the marriage to be rushed. As he was only going to be a normal consort, you had no social obligation to make the wedding a particularly big affair and so had quietly signed the papers and completed the ceremony as soon as possible.

In fact, the ceremony had only concluded about three hours ago. And in the name of efficiency, you were now about to start the traditional meeting require for him to officially join your harem.

You checked over your outfit one final time before pushing open the doors to the main drawing room in the harem. The harem was comprised of a living quarter for each member, including Itachi although he spent most nights in your bedroom as was his right as head consort, and a couple of communal living spaces and baths. It seemed fitting to introduce Sasuke to the harem in the room that you knew most of your consorts spent a good deal of time in.

This first official meeting only required the attendance of the head consort and two side consorts, as well as yourself of course, so it only took a few moments for you to let your gaze wander to each person in the room in turn.

Itachi was sitting at the front of the room next to an empty chair reserved for you. He was looking as poised and calm as always, but you had a suspicion that if he were any less in control of himself, he’d be fidgeting nervously in his chair.

A little further down, sharing one of the sofas were your two side consorts. Neji was somehow making his frustration look dignified as his bored lavender eyes landed on you as if to say ‘what took you so long?’. You hid your smile. He had likely had to be retrieved from the depths of the library where he had been holing himself up for the past two weeks in an effort to read all the books he’d never been allowed to read while growing up. Neji rarely spoke about his childhood, but you knew enough about the Hyuuga family to assume he’d likely only been allowed to read etiquette guides and traditional poetry. He likely wouldn’t be happy when you reminded him that his presence would also be required for the group dinner in Sasuke’s honour tonight.

Shino on the other hand seemed to be waiting patiently and passing the time with some embroidery. He’d taken a shine to the art form over the last year after you’d given him some insect designs that you’d commissioned an artist for, for his birthday. However, the white knuckled grip he had on the handkerchief revealed the nerves underneath his calm façade. Shino was always nervous when you added new people to the harem. Quite a few of your consorts were more solitary by nature, but Shino’s side consort status meant he had to interact with the new members more than you knew he was comfortable with sometimes.

Your general consorts would be meeting Sasuke at the dinner this evening.

You cleared your throat and suddenly three sets of eyes settled on you.

“Are you ready?” you asked, taking your seat next to Itachi and placing what you hoped was a comforting hand on his. His hand was warm in yours as you squeezed it tightly. When you received a nod from each man, you signalled towards the servant to escort Sasuke in.

The room was filled with tension. Your own nerves adding to it. Despite having married the man only hours ago, you had yet to have a chance to talk to Sasuke one on one. Your engagement had been in the company of his parents who he hardly acknowledged, your marriage was in front of multiple witnesses, and the second it was over he had been whisked away by a team of servants to prepare him to enter the harem. Goodness knows what they’d been doing to him for three hours, but any attempt to meet him had been met with an angry servant chasing you away and explaining that you didn’t understand how long it takes for a man to be his most beautiful.

And despite being the Empress, you could still absolutely be scared away by an angry servant.

What? They were scary.

“Please allow me to introduce Sasuke Uchiha,” the servant had returned, and the moment was here. “Newest consort of the sixteenth Empress of our empire.”

Sasuke strode in through the doors, head held high, steps graceful but in a different way to his brother. There was a raw power behind his grace, like he was challenging all of you to deny him something he wanted.

The servants had obviously made the most of those three hours as well. Sasuke was dressed in a striking red colour and made up in make up that accentuated his strong features that added to his dominating presence. It suited him so much more than the virginal white wedding outfit you’d seen him in this morning.

“Bow to the side consorts and greet them,” you ordered, tone firm but not unwelcoming. Sasuke did as you’d asked, methodically bowing to both Neji and Shino, only as deeply as politeness dictated, not an inch more or less.

“Greetings, consort Hyuuga, consort Aburame. I hope we can live peacefully together moving forward.”

Sasuke’s voice carried the message that he didn’t much care if that was true or not. Neji picked up on the disinterest and dismissed Sasuke with his eyes, something you could tell bothered Sasuke in return. There was animosity when they made eye contact.

You sighed. Itachi was going to have his work cut out for him to keep the peace between those two, you could already tell.

“Kneel in front of myself and head consort Itachi Uchiha,” this was your next instruction. Sasuke followed it dutifully, but you caught a very subtle rolling of his eyes as he bowed. You hid an amused grin and pretended not to notice. Itachi also noticed if the subtle glare that carried a ‘don’t mess this up’ message was any indication.

Oh yes, Sasuke was definitely going to be a handful. But hopefully he’d also be an asset to your family.

You let Sasuke kneel for a few more moments before standing from your seat and holding out a hand for him to take and rise. He took your hand after a moments hesitation and allowed you to support him to his feet.

You were momentarily surprised to feel that his hands were so rough against yours. He had the callouses of a soldier under the artificial softness of someone who’d been forced by the servants to douse his hands in moisturiser. It wasn’t a problem for you, but he would certainly have the roughest hands in harem.

“Welcome to the family,” you said genuinely. “Itachi will show you to your quarters and explain the basics about your role and duties here in the palace. After that, he will escort you to dinner where you will meet the rest of my consorts and have a chance to meet and mingle with them in an informal setting. Once dinner has concluded, some servants will escort you to my bedroom for our wedding night.”

“Understood,” Sasuke nodded. You search his face for any emotion that tip you off about how he was handling this big transition, but there was nothing but professional indifference. Oh well, you would have Itachi catch you up on everything later.

“Excellent. Itachi, I’ll pass Sasuke into your capable hands. Make sure he is comfortable and fill him in on the details for tonight that I have missed.”

“Yes, my wife,” Itachi smiled, rising from his chair and grasping Sasuke by the arm before escorting him out of the room.

Silence fell as you, Neji and Shino listened to the pair of footsteps fade.

“Can we leave now?” Neji asked, standing up abruptly. “I was in the middle of something important before I was called here.”

“Was that something perhaps in the library?” you chuckled, watching a faint blush crawl up onto Neji’s face. “Go ahead, I’ll see you later at dinner.”

Neji nodded and left, leaving you with Shino who was still sitting on the sofa, his embroidery forgotten on his lap.

“Hey,” you greeted, sitting down next to him. “Can I see what you’re working on?”

Shino fiddled nervously with the edge of the handkerchief he was embroidering, but he did slowly turn it towards you, avoiding your eye contact while he awaited your judgement.

The handkerchief was an off-white colour with a beautiful, giant stag beetle embroidered in the corner with delicate silver thread. There was also a half finished grass pattern along the bottom that he’d clearly just been working on.

“It’s beautiful, Shino,” you breathed gently, tracing the pattern with your finger. “You’re really amazing at these designs, do you know that?”

“Thank you,” Shino smiled more comfortably now that you were alone. “I have especially enjoyed making this one. Why? Because I like the design and also it is for my father for his birthday.”

“Hmm, he’s going to love it. If you need any more designs, please let me know. I can call the artist to work out some with you whenever you want.”

“Thank you,” Shino said. “I will keep that in mind.”

A comfortable silence fell over the room while Shino continued working on his embroidery while you watched. You needed to get on with your work for the day but spending time with Shino was so relaxing that it was difficult to force yourself to move.

And then Shino leant his head on your shoulder, so you couldn’t possibly justify moving, no matter how much work you had to do.

Oh well, you thought, slipping an arm around his shoulders, you could finish your work later.

…

In the end, you didn’t have the heart to tell Shino that you had work to do, especially because you’d been so caught up with getting Sasuke into the harem for the past week that you hadn’t spent any time with him.

You had only managed to cram in a couple of hours of work before it was time for you to introduce Sasuke to the rest of your harem at dinner.

He was in yet another outfit now, the third completely different look in one day, although he looked much more comfortable in this more informal dark blue kimono than he had in any of the other outfits. Although, judging by the glares he was ending at some of the servants that were milling around in the room behind the dining hall where you were waiting, Sasuke had reached his limit on being manhandled into different outfits and make up by the staff.

You stifled a laugh. He’d get used to it.

“It’s almost time,” you said, pulling Sasuke’s attention from glaring at the servants onto you. “This is just an informal dinner; you don’t have to be nervous.”

“I’m not nervous,” he said immediately, frowning at you.

You dropped the issue, having a feeling that you weren’t going to get him to admit something like that.

“Let’s just get this over with,” Sasuke grumbled, striding over to the door without you. You chuckled at his behaviour. He may have already had a little disagreement with Neji, but they really did have a lot in common. Although… you turned your gaze to Sasuke where he was audibly tapping his foot against the stone floor to show his displeasure at your slowness, Neji wasn’t quite so open about his attitude on his first day.

“You’ll be sitting at the head of the table next to me for today,” you explained, walking up to him and cutting off his impatient foot tapping. “Normally, that seat would be for Itachi, but for today, it’s yours.”

You offered up your arm for Sasuke to take as the servants got ready to open the doors for your arrival.

“You’ll have about half an hour to eat and then I’ll take you around the table and individually introduce you to the rest of the consorts in the harem. After dinner, we’ll retire together to my bedroom. Understand?”

Sasuke nodded.

“Then, let’s go.”

The faint sound of chatter ceased the moment the heavy door was pulled open by a servant. All the eyes in the room settled on you and Sasuke as you led him to the table and helped him to his chair.

Normally, tradition dictated that Sasuke would sit between you and Neji, while Itachi sat on your other side, but you figured Sasuke would feel more comfortable sitting next to his brother and with a little bit more distance between him and Neji given their budding rivalry. So, you sat at the head of the table, Sasuke on your left, with Itachi on his left, and Neji sat on your right.

“Good evening, everyone,” you said, raising your voice so that everyone could hear you. You received a smattering of returned greetings before you continued. “This dinner is in celebration of our newest family member, Sasuke Uchiha. Let’s all make sure he feels welcome. Now, let’s eat!”

The second the words left your mouth a stream of servants flooded into the room holding a seemingly endless number of silver platters filled to the brim with the most expensive and delicious food money could buy. The aroma in the room was mouth watering and you were suddenly reminded that between the wedding, the meetings and the work, you hadn’t had a chance to eat yet.

You immediately started piling up your plat with food, mentally thanking the chefs for a perfect spread, as always. You’d learnt with all your previous consorts that food was an excellent way to get them to feel more comfortable.

Speaking of your new consort, you glanced over at Sasuke to make sure he was handling things well and you were greeted with the sight of Itachi and Sasuke talking in low tones while Itachi loaded up Sasuke’s plate with an array of different dishes. Sasuke didn’t look like he appreciated Itachi treating him like a child, but Itachi had a determined glint in his eye that you knew from experience was impossible to combat. You smiled at the cute scene. Bringing Sasuke into the harem was worth it just to see Itachi play the doting older brother. Currently, there were no children in the harem, but you’d always thought that Itachi would make an excellent father and watching him interact with Sasuke proved that your hunch was absolutely correct.

As cute as it was, you turned away to give them a little privacy and instead turned right towards Neji. He was focused intensely on his food, eating it as fast as he could while maintaining his table manners. It looked like you weren’t the only one who’d been skipping meals. You made a mental note to have the servants bring Neji food while he was hidden away in the library.

You couldn’t stop your fond grin as you watched. Despite being so strait laced, Neji always inspired such a playfulness in you. On a whim, you hooked your ankle around his leg under the table.

Neji jolted, immediately raising his head with a glare in place, looking like he was about to reprimand whoever had the audacity to interrupt him while he was eating before he realised whose foot it was as you sent him a teasing grin. A light pink flush settled on his cheeks as his glare melted away.

“How’s your reading going?” you asked, rubbing his leg a little with your foot. Neji face lit up at your question and he immediately launched into a speech about a collection of scary fairy tales he’d been ready while you looked at him like the lovestruck fool you knew you were.

“The collection is organised by region and then by date, and there’s a companion book that discusses regional variances and themes across all the fairy tales. I remember a person in my family had both books, she used to be obsessed with these stories but I wasn’t…” Neji trailed off for a moment before his smile became a little more forced. “I didn’t have time in between my classes.”

You understood what he meant by that. He wasn’t allowed to read those stories.

“I’m so glad that you’re enjoying it. I’ve noticed you’ve taken quite a shine to mythology and fairy tales recently and I know you’ve been stuck on what to put on the back wall of your bedroom, so I was thinking I could send some people out searching for more books on these topics and have some large bookshelves fitted on the back wall. It would be like a little, specialist library if that’s something you’d want?”

Neji’s smile became genuine again and your chest felt warm as you watched him bashfully agree.

Your conversation was interrupted as a servant brought in a new platter of food to replace the empty plates. Ah yes, the tomato pasta you’d requested specifically for Sasuke after Itachi had informed you about Sasuke’s favourite foods. Neji’s attention had already been taken by Gaara who was sitting on his other side, so you took a spare fork and swirled it in the spaghetti until you had a good mouthful on the fork.

“Sasuke,” you said, interrupting his and Itachi’s gentle conversation. “I asked the chef to prepare this specially for you. You like tomatoes, right?”

Sasuke sent his brother a look for sharing his personal information without his permission, but he still nodded affirmatively at your question. Perfect.

“Here,” you grinned, holding the fork up to his lips. “Try some.”

Sasuke blinked at you, an incredulous look on his face like he couldn’t believe your audacity. You only smiled, holding the food steadily. Itachi subtly nudged Sasuke from the side, encouraging him to play along and eat the food you were teasingly offering him. Sasuke sent you an embarrassed glare and you weren’t sure if he was going to take the food or punch you in the throat.

But right as your confidence was wavering and you were considering lowering the fork and apologising, Sasuke gingerly took the mouthful of food, avoiding your eyes the entire time with a bright red face.

Itachi was both right and wrong about him, you realised. He definitely had an attitude that even Neji couldn’t match, and he was cute, just as Itachi had told you. But his cuteness wasn’t in spite of his attitude, it was definitely because of it.

“Do you like it?”

“…Yes,” Sasuke grumbled, playing with the food on his plate to avoid looking at you in the eyes. You made eye contact with Itachi over his head and shared a smile, he really was cute.

“I’ll ask the chefs to make it again, then,” you promised. “They use the tomatoes that we grow in the palace greenhouses, you know? If you want, we can increase the tomato crop. Shino oversees the greenhouses along with the head gardener, and it’s tradition for the consorts to have a small section of the greenhouses for themselves if they want one.”

“I have one,” Itachi chimed in. “I’ve filled mine with honeysuckle because I love the smell of them. I always keep a fresh vase of them in my room. But you don’t have to plant flowers, vegetables, fruits or herbs work too.”

“We can sort all that out later, for now, eat, because we don’t have much time before I’ll be taking you around to meet everyone.”

…

You enjoyed the food for another twenty minutes or so before it was time to make the personal introductions.

“It’s time, come on.”

Normally, you’d introduce a new consort to Itachi first, but in this particular case, you didn’t bother, instead moving to Itachi’s other side and starting with Shino.

“This is Shino Aburame,” you introduced, gesturing to the man who had turned in his seat to look at you both. Shino was dressed in a very unusual style, with extra layers underneath his kimono to cover most of his skin. Shino always dressed modestly so you weren’t surprised, but you imagined it was the first time that Sasuke would have seen that kind of dress as it had never been in style. “He is one of my side consorts, along with Neji, so if you need help with anything and you can’t find myself or Itachi, Shino will be happy to help you.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Uchiha,” Shino said, his voice calm and measured. “I happened to overhear you talking about tomato plants earlier, so if you are interested in that, please let me know. Why? Because I will ask the gardener to assign you your plot.”

“Thank you,” Sasuke said, a little, surprised smile on his face. “It is nice to meet you too, Aburame.”

“Call me Shino.”

“Then, call me Sasuke.”

You smiled. Perhaps they would form an unlikely friendship.

“Please return to your dinner, Shino, Sasuke and I will move on,” you politely excused yourself and brought Sasuke to the next person down the table who was already grinning at you both. Naruto.

“Sasuke, this is-“

“Naruto Uzumaki!” Naruto interrupted you, sending Sasuke one of his famous blinding grins. “Nice to meet you, Sasuke.”

Sasuke seemed unsure how to react to such aggressive friendliness, so you did him a favour and took over the conversation.

“Naruto spent a lot of time in the palace as a child, we were actually childhood friends, because his mother and father were good friends of my mother you see, the previous empress. So, if you have any questions about the palace, directions or about past times, Naruto is the one to ask.”

Naruto laughed a little at your introduction.

“Usually, I invite all the newbies for games in the harem drawing room on the night after their dinner, but seeing as it’s your wedding night, you need to be there tomorrow, ‘kay?” Naruto’s grin turned a little more teasing over a few beats of silence. “As long as you have enough energy after tonight, of course.”

Sasuke sputtered and choked at the innuendo as you rolled your eyes at Naruto’s teasing.

“Don’t say things like that, idiot!”

Naruto snorted and let the insult roll off of his back before he turned to you.

“I like him! Good choice!”

That only seemed to piss Sasuke off more, so you quickly ushered him towards the next person on the table, Shikamaru, before anything escalated.

“Sasuke, this is Shikamaru Nara,” you introduced the lackadaisical man who had finished eating and was now just sipping wine. “Shikamaru is technically a part of my harem but he primarily acts as the main strategist for our military. Shikamaru is the best of the best, but the laws are outdated and difficult to change without me facing some serious pushback from some key nobles, so this was a loophole that allowed him to work as he pleased.”

Shikamaru waved a lazy hello before shifting his attention back to his wine, not that Sasuke noticed because his head had snapped to you, eyes searching your face like he was trying to figure out if you were lying.

“That’s possible?” he demanded. “We can work with the military?”

“Yes, of course,” you answered, knowing full well why he was shocked. It wasn’t common for men to work in or with the military. “If you’re interested in an arrangement like that, then we can discuss it this evening, but you mustn’t talk about it outside of the harem. If the information leaks, Shikamaru and myself could both receive major backlash. Shikamaru still has harem duties he must complete to keep up the façade, you would have to do the same if you decided to go for that route. But we’ll discuss that later, you still have more people to meet.”

Sasuke’s face made it clear that he wasn’t too thrilled to be having to wait to discuss that particular topic but you were grateful when he held his tongue. You had other things that needed doing first, and the hall wasn’t the best place for private discussions.

You moved onto the other side of the table to introduce Iruka to Sasuke.

“Sasuke,” Iruka greeted. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you from your brother.”

You laughed at the face Sasuke pulled at the thought that his brother had been talking about him.

“Iruka is like the harem’s father,” you whispered to Sasuke. “Everyone respects him, so he’s a good person to go to if you have any problems.”

“I hope you’re only whispering nice things about me?” Iruka said with a raised eyebrow.

“Of course, my love,” you easily agree, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Iruka is currently training with some royal tutors a couple of days a week. We don’t have any children in the harem yet, but when we do, Iruka will be in charge of the early years education and possibly later education too depending on what these hypothetical children decide to specialise in.”

Sasuke nodded at Iruka.

“It’s nice to meet you.”

“We’ve taken up enough of your time, Iruka, please return to your dinner while we move on.”

Next up was Haku.

“Sasuke, it’s lovely to meet you. My name is Haku,” Haku introduced himself, a gentle smile on his face. “I understand that entering the harem can be rather overwhelming, so I hope you are handling everything well.”

Sasuke made the face that everyone made whilst they were trying to figure out Haku’s gender. Haku just smiled serenely at him. You were convinced that he derived joy from confusing people.

“Just Haku, no last name?” Sasuke asked, apparently choosing to change the topic into what he considered to be safer territory.

“I have our wife’s name,” Haku laughed. “My parents abandoned me on the streets when I was young because they couldn’t afford to feed me, so I don’t have a last name of my own.”

Sasuke now looked even more uncomfortable.

“I’m… sorry… I didn’t know,” Sasuke apologised awkwardly, giving a little bow.

“Don’t worry,” Haku waved him off. “That was a long time ago. I have a much better family now, and I’m happy to welcome you into it, Sasuke.”

“I met Haku while on a diplomatic trip a few years ago. He was a dancer at a bar and I’d become so enamoured with him in only a few nights that I couldn’t bare to leave him and instead invited him to come back with me.”

“It was the most impulsive decision I’ve ever made to say yes,” Haku added, with a smile. “But I’m thankful every day that I took that chance. I’m sure you will as well, Sasuke.”

Sensing the finality of that statement, Sasuke went over to the next person without you, perhaps to escape the disastrous topic choices he’d just made as fast as possible. You chuckled, brushing a hand over Haku’s head to make sure he was okay before following after Sasuke who was already talking to Gaara.

“Yes, you might have heard of me, that wouldn’t be strange,” you heard the end of Gaara’s statement.

“Gaara’s the second prince of Suna,” you said, joining the conversation. “He has the highest personal ranking out of the harem.”

“I see.”

“His training makes him very useful,” you stage whispered to Sasuke. “Because he can handle all the foreign guests that are too difficult for grumpy Neji and too loud for reserved Shino.”

Gaara smiled faintly at the praise, hiding it behind a sip of his drink.

“And of course,” you leant over to the final person. “You’ve already met Neji.”

The tension rose as Sasuke and Neji made eye contact. They hadn’t even had a proper conversation yet and they were already being so dramatic. They were going to be quite the pair, you were sure. But the tension couldn’t last. You didn’t like drama within the harem, so you broke it with the first idea that came to mind.

You ruffled Neji’s hair.

And just like magic, his ire was now directed at you.

He squawked in protest and batted your hand away, sparking laughter all down the table.

Naruto, unsurprisingly couldn’t let the teasing chance pass him by.

“Aww, Neji can’t handle a little hair ruffling!”

Neji didn’t have enough eyes to glare at everyone but he gave it his best shot.

“You shouldn’t be surprised that he doesn’t like surprise affection, Naruto,” Shikamaru drawled, his wine now replaced by a cigarette. “Have you forgotten what happened when you tried to hug him from behind during his first week?”

“He almost broke your nose punching you in the face,” Haku added. “I had to tend to it while we waited for the physician.”

Neji’s face twisted in embarrassed displeasure at the fact that that particular story was being told. Again. Unfortunately for him, his face just sent everyone back into peals of laughter while Itachi and Iruka tried to quiet the bickering down.

You loved your family.

…

The castle was very different at night.

It looked different. It smelt different. It felt different.

And you couldn’t help but think that Sasuke looked so much more comfortable in the darkness.

You were both walking back to your room now, full and maybe a little bit tipsy from dinner. Sasuke arm was linked with yours and you noticed that he was very warm to the touch, even through his sleeve. Itachi was the same. Perhaps their entire family ran hot? You made a mental note to get him a nice fan as a welcoming gift because you knew Itachi couldn’t live without his, especially during the summer.

It was silent as you walked, but the silence was surprisingly comfortable. At least until the bedroom door closed behind you and you were truly alone for the first time. Suddenly the silence was oppressive.

“Nothing needs to happen tonight,” you said, slowly removing your outer layers in a way you hoped wasn’t suggestive. “If you wish for it, we will simply sleep here tonight, and then I will not call for you at night unless you decide that you wish for that kind of relationship with me.”

It was uncomfortable to talk about these things so candidly, but you held the power here and it was your responsibility to make sure Sasuke understood that he had the final say.

“I-“ Sasuke looked shocked. You waited for his response while committing his facial features to memory. Here, under the candlelight, was when his differences to Itachi felt the most obvious. He was sharp where Itachi was soft, and the shadows from the candlelight accentuated that.

“I’m tired,” Sasuke said eventually. He spoke around the issue, but his answer was clear.

“Of course, but are you too tired to talk more about Shikamaru’s situation and how you might want something similar?”

“No,” he protested immediately. “Tell me.”

You laughed at his disrespectful tone. He was part of your harem alright.

He’d do just fine here, you were sure of it.