#echoes of war chronicles

[honeybewrites]

OC Facts Tag

Thank you @the-golden-comet for the tag and @sableglass for the tag!! Once again, sorry for the delay in tags!! Trying to get through most of them today and tomorrow, so wish me luck haha

Rules: Make a list of fun facts about your OCs. Like a headcanon list, if you will! Except it's actually canon lol.

Asset 703

-She doesn't like thunderstorms or small spaces. Both are a result of multiple traumatic situations. She can manage it most of the time though, more out of a necessity than actually coping. -She can and will sleep anywhere if she is not required to stay awake for some reason. Trees, the ground, the smallest spaces you can find. It doesn’t matter. -She keeps all of her things meticulously organized. This is more a habit drilled into her since birth from the Mors then something she does herself. -She's a big foodie, but you will never get her to admit it. She can’t cook worth shit, but she sure as hell will eat anything, especially if it’s good food *cough cough* Rage *cough cough*

Rage

-He is a fantastic cook/baker. He could have opened a restaurant if he’d wanted and it would have blown up so fast. People would kill for his food. -He is somewhat of a celebrity. The Airvix name is well known through Mirralia as a predominant family. Generally, he tries to avoid telling people his last name because of this. -He was actually the first person to come up with the technique he uses to see. It made news headlines and still to this day, he is the only one using the technique. -He is really good with kids. Whether it's in a clinical setting or just in everyday life, kids love him and he loves them. He'll sit at the kids table at Thanksgiving before sitting with the adults.

Fres

-They are a fashion expect and always look stylish. They have a massive wardrobe. Everything from dresses to suits and any kind of accessory you can think of. -They have a phenomenal singing voice, but they don't usually sing. They will often hum when they are absorbed in their work, but to hear them sing is a rarity and a treat. -They love their scars, even though the circumstances Fres got them under weren't good, they consider the scars an important part of them and often wear clothing that promptly displays the scars. -Fres loves plants! They are definitely a plant parent and their house is full of different plants, some extremely rare.

Tagging @yourpenpaldee @ominous-feychild @paeliae-occasionally @willtheweaver @nczaversnick and anyone else who wants to hop on!! Sorry for any double tags!! This has been sitting in my drafts for a while and I'm sure some of you have already done it

[heritageposts]

[...] The Zionist Left in Israel is in a limbo. On the one hand, it is ostracized by Jewish society as, at best, being naïve and, at worst, as being accused of betrayal. This is in reaction to their support for the two-state solution and the call to end the occupation. This alienation, of course, is now more acute after the events of October 7. On the other hand, they are not considered, and rightly so, genuine allies of the Palestinian liberation struggle. The Israeli Left’s biggest hope was that the Global Left, as they call it, would share the same language and attitude regarding the October 7 operation by Hamas; namely to be unconditionally behind Israel. The Israeli Left was outraged that, in the eyes of the Global Left, the Hamas operation did not absolve Israel from its past criminal policies nor did it provide Israel with a green light for its genocidal policies in the West Bank and the Gaza Strip. To their great surprise, the Global Left in its entirety was galvanized behind the call to “Stop the War” and “Free Palestine”, rather than echoing their government’s repeated response of “We support Israel’s right to defend itself”. What is most illuminating – in the dialogue the liberal Zionists have with themselves on the pages of Haaretz – is their vicious attack on any one associating colonialism with Israel. For some reason, they chose Judith Butler as the main culprit, which would leave many of us disappointed, as we devoted our careers to frame Zionism as settler colonialism, probably going back to the 1960s. In fact, today, the framing of Zionism and Israel as a settler-colonial project is a consensual issue among all the leading scholars on the Middle East, and it is rejected as an accurate paradigm only among mainstream Israeli academia. The Global Left is guilty of two ‘sins’, in the eyes of the liberal Zionists: one, it refers to Israel as a settler-colonial state and two, it provides a context for the Hamas attack on October 7.

. . . continues at Palestine Chronicles (16 Nov., 2023)

[normatural]

Echoes of Souls | A.T

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x f!reader

Summary: In the old, abandoned castle, she found a love letter addressed to her, written by someone who died a century ago.

Word Count: 2.328

A/N: It's been a while since I wrote something and my writing is a bit rusty so please bear with me :) Feedback is always welcome. I love to know your opinions and questions. English isn't my first language so excuse any mistakes but feel free to point them out to help me improve.

Aemond's masterlist

Chapter Two: Back to the Fire

As the first light of dawn filtered through the broken windows, you roused yourself from sleep. The dream's vivid fragments lingered in your mind, each scene suffused with an inexplicable emotion. A longing that you couldn’t quite understand. Determined to uncover more of these echoes of the past, you decided to explore the mansion's grounds. The repairs could wait another day.

The garden, though now overgrown and wild, still held a certain beauty of its past. Weeds mingled with the remnants of perennials that had once been meticulously tended. Ancient statues stood silhouetted against the rising sun, their stone faces weather-beaten but still graceful. You wandered through the garden, trying to trace the paths from your dream.

Every step seemed to draw you closer to something just out of reach, a secret waiting to be unveiled. You reached a wrought iron gate, barely hanging on its hinges, and carefully pushed it open. Beyond lay what seemed to be the castle's graveyard, shrouded in a somber stillness. Moss-covered statues stood as silent chronicles of lives long past. Like ghosts in a forgotten house. 

Your heart began to pound as your eyes scanned the names at the bottom of the figures. Graves. You moved through the rows, pausing occasionally to read a name or a date. Most of them passed really young. Just as expected when a war is looming. The royal name appearing over and over again. And then you saw it—an elaborately carved white stone, still pristine despite the years. The name etched into the stone made your breath catch in your throat: Aemond Targaryen.

You’ve studied in college that the royal family used to be burnt in pyres by their dragons so it was odd to see those statues in the field as some sort of graveyard. Perhaps it was a way to honor the royal family, just like a museum. A reminder of the past.

Overwhelmed with a mix of sorrow and wonder, you knelt before the grave. The inscription was simple but profound, speaking to a life of duty, passion, and an untimely end. You traced the letters with your fingers, feeling a sudden, overwhelming wave of emotion and recognition. The statue was almost a carbon copy of the man you had seen in your dream.

A rustling sound caught your attention. You looked up to see a black bird perched on Aemond’s shoulder, its dark eyes reflecting a startling intelligence as it seemed to stare deeply in your eyes. The bird regarded you for a moment, then took flight, its inky feathers stark against the morning sky. You watched as it flew to a massive tree, the only one still vibrant with life, its leaves a deep, blood-red hue. Unable to ignore the goosebumps in your skin.

Drawn by an invisible force, you rose and walked towards the tree. It seemed similar to the one you had seen earlier. Its red leaves stand proudly against the soft breeze. The tree's bark was rough against your hand as you gently touched it, feeling a strange energy pulsating beneath the surface. Like blood pumping in veins. Such an ancient piece that endured time way better than its surroundings. Suddenly, the world began to spin. Colors blended and swirled, and your vision blurred. You tried to hold onto the tree, but your strength waned, and you succumbed to the overwhelming dizziness, collapsing to the ground.

When you opened your eyes, the first thing you noticed was the sky, clear and blue above you. Pushing yourself up, disoriented, you looked around, touching your throbbing head. The once-overgrown garden was now meticulously manicured, the statues restored to their former glory. The world around you was vibrant and alive, brimming with the sounds of life. It was like being pulled back to that dream again.

Heart hammering, you realized you were no longer in the abandoned castle’s grounds. You were… in the past, in the Targaryen age. If that was even possible. Maybe you were going crazy but the castle loomed majestically behind you, its towers and walls gleaming in the sunlight. 

Voices and the sounds of bustling activity drew you towards the main courtyard. You blended in surprisingly well, your attire somehow fitting in with the period. As you moved through the crowd, your mind buzzed with the realization of where - and when - you were. The Targaryen age.

Everywhere you looked, there were signs of the looming strife. Soldiers in armor, courtiers whispering urgently to one another, and the dark, foreboding presence of the dragons, their cries echoing in the skies above. Something was about to happen and it didn’t leave a good feeling to your guts.

Your thoughts raced as you tried to comprehend your situation. You had somehow traveled back in time, to a world that had existed centuries ago. A world where Aemond was alive. Where dragons flew in the sky… When one of the greatest wars was unfolding.

You made your way back to the garden, the same spot where you had seen the man with white hair. It was exactly as you remembered it from your dream - vibrant, full of life, and breathtakingly beautiful. As you walked, your heart skipped a beat when you saw Aemond in the distance, speaking with a group of knights as they walked in the out the gates. He seemed just as you had seen in her dreams, every bit the imposing and mystery figure you had come to know… somehow.

As you watched from a distance, trying to hear anything that wasn’t your thrumming heartbeat, a voice broke through your racing thoughts.

"Lady Vaela!" Startled, you turned to see a maid hurrying towards you, her expression a mix of concern and urgency. "My lady, you are not yet ready! The ceremony will begin soon."

"What ceremony?" you asked, voice shaky. The maid seemed taken aback by your furrowed brows but recovered quickly.

Fear of being caught and hanged for wandering around the castle was the only thing keeping you from tripping on your feet as you followed the maid through the dark and imposing halls. She had recognized you, or better, who she assumed you were. And that may be something good. They’d hang someone known by staff.

"Your wedding, my lady. To Prince Aemond Targaryen. Come, we must make haste!"

The world around you seemed to spin again, but this time with a dizzying revelation. Her dream, her memories - it was all falling into place. They were your memory. You were Vaela… Or perhaps, you were in another dream. You followed the maid in a daze, questions swirling in your mind. How did you end up here? Why did they recognize you? 

The maid led you through the bustling corridors of the castle, and you took in the splendor of the surroundings - the rich tapestries, the gleaming armor, the hurried preparations of the household. It all felt surreal as if you were walking through someone else's life.

They arrived at your chamber - you supposed-, and the maid quickly set to work, helping you bathe and change into the elaborate wedding gown that awaited. It was a breathtaking creation of silks and lace, embroidered with the sigils of House Targaryen. As the maid adjusted your veil and added the final touches, you caught a glimpse of yourself in the polished metal. The reflection looking back at you was both familiar and strange, a mixture of your past self and the woman you had become. It was you and yet it wasn’t. 

"You look beautiful, my lady," the maid said with a warm smile. "Prince Aemond is a fortunate man."

The words brought a flush to your cheeks, and you took a deep breath to steady yourself. This was happening. Your heart raced with a mix of fear and excitement. When would you wake up?

As the preparations concluded, the maid guided you towards the grand hall where the ceremony was to take place. The hall was filled with guests, a sea of faces you did not recognize but who seemed to know you. High lords and ladies, knights, and nobles, all turned to watch as she made her entrance.

The hall itself was a marvel of Valyrian architecture, adorned with dragon motifs and glittering chandeliers. Some of them you had the luck of seeing in museums, others in your history books but most of them were never seen in your century. At the far end, standing tall and regal, was Aemond Targaryen. His white hair gleamed under the chandeliers, and his one good eye fixed on you with a burning intensity, making your stomach do black flips.

Your heart skipped a beat at the sight of him. Every step you took echoed through the hall together with your heartbeat or maybe that was just your nerves. Your mind racing with a multitude of emotions. This was the moment you had dreamt of since childhood - to wed in a palace-, yet it was more real and overwhelming than you could have imagined. You didn’t know that man and still, you haven’t tried to run away since you awoke there.

As you approached, Aemond stepped forward to take your hand. His grip was firm yet gentle, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. For a moment, time seemed to stop as their eyes met, the connection between them sparking and palpable. It was as if their souls were recognizing each other, despite the chasm of time that had separated them. Could he know that you weren’t his beloved Vaela? If so, he didn’t let it show.

The ceremony began, a blend of Valyrian rites and Targaryen traditions. The words of the officiant washed over you as you stood beside Aemond, your hand still clasped in his. Somehow it was the only thing keeping you from fainting right there. 

"Sȳndor bē naejot māzigon hen ñuha prūmia, ao issi ñuha ēngos, ñuha prūmia, se ñuha gevives. Nyke daorūbagon ao va īlva gīmigon, īlva vūjigon, se īlva ānogar. Iā vala mēre, ȳdrā ēdruty. Zaldrīzes buzdari iksos daor, sepār iksan sȳndroro gūrogon." Aemond purple’s eye was focused on yours, the words leaving his lips seemed to held a deeper power to it. "As we come together from my heart, you are my light, my heart, and my strength. I bind you to our love, our life, and our future. As one man and one woman, always together. A dragon does not bow, yet I am humbled by your love."

The vows were spoken in High Valyrian, their meaning both ancient and profound. 

"Sȳndor bē naejot māzigon hen ñuha prūmia, ao issi ñuha ēngos, ñuha gevives, se ñuha bantis. Nyke daorūbagon ao va īlva gīmigon, īlva prūmia, se īlva rhaenagon. Iā valar mēre, ēdruta va gevie. Zaldrīzes ōños iksā, se nyke ēdrur ao va gevivys.” Your mind only raced further with innumerous thoughts as the supposedly foreign words slipped so easily out of your lips. “As we come together from my heart, you are my light, my strength, and my night. I bind you to our love, our heart, and our dreams. As two souls, bound in strength. You are a dragon of shadows, and I honor you in the darkness."

 With each word, the bond between them seemed to grow stronger, as if the very fabric of time was weaving their destinies together. Again.

When the moment came to seal their union, Aemond leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a soft yet powerful kiss. Awakening something long torpid in your chest. The hall erupted in applause, but for you, the world had narrowed to just the two of you. Love and passion radiating from him, a promise of what was to come.

As the ceremony concluded, the people were led to the grand banquet hall where the celebrations would continue. The hall was filled with the sounds of laughter, music, and the clinking of goblets. You found yourself surrounded by well-wishers and congratulations, yet your focus remained on Aemond, who surprisingly stayed by your side like an anchor in the storm of emotions.

As the evening progressed, you took the chance to accept every goblet of wine that was offered to you in hopes it’d control your mind. You sat down on the chair, eyes quickly finding your.. husband as he spoke to whom you assumed was his brother, King Aegon. It was as if you had known each other for lifetimes.

When they finally found a moment alone amidst the revelry, Aemond took her hand and led her to a quiet alcove. "Vaela," he whispered, his voice filled with emotion. "I know this may feel overwhelming, but trust in our love. We are destined for each other, no matter the challenges we may face."

You looked into his eye as the crease between your brows deepened, seeing the sincerity and passion there. But there was something else there. Knowledge. He knew. "I’m back, Aemond," you replied, your voice surprisingly steady. "And I am ready to face whatever comes our way, as long as we are together."

He smiled a rare and genuine expression that made your heart soar. "Then let us embrace our destiny, my love. Together, we shall conquer all."

His words seemed to strike something on you. Unlock whatever your memory was keeping from you as pages of books and illustrations flashed in your mind. The name Targaryen is in all of them. Your heart sank as you looked at Aemond. You’ve read about his death. What if... That was the reason you were sent there? To avoid it.

As they stood there, hand in hand, the world around them seemed to fade away. They were no longer bound by the constraints of time, but rather united by a love that spanned centuries. At that moment, you knew that no matter what challenges or trials awaited you, your love was eternal, a flame that would never be extinguished. You had a purpose there. You’d save your lover’s life.

+

Taglist: @donut-seam @strangersunghoon @teasweeter @darktrashsoulbear @m00n5t0n3 @rosey1981 @kniselle @rebloggerist-extraordinaire

[justatypicalwizard]

Weave your own web, my prince

BNHA royal au x reader ❥⋰ Another marital season bears down Katsuki's shoulders. His mother tortures him with a new guard - one that will follow each and every step the prince takes. Soon Katsuki decides, it's time to act on his responsibilities and decides his target will be the guard. Tons of royals flush the corridors of the Bakugo castle, among others Shoto - the Todoroki prince on the make. What will come out of their rivalry? Will Katsuki be able to break out of his mothers web of plans and schemes? Will he be able to claim what he desires or will it run through his fingers? ❥⋰ Reader is referred to as Cat. Word count: 16k ❥⋰ I just want to say I had so much fun writing this piece. I really tried to elevate my language and make something fun. I hope you find it entertaining!

Katsuki hated Spring with all of his heart. He loved the new life peeking out of every corner, he loved the birds that came from far lands with new stories to croak about, he loved the fresh air saturated with the scent of juicy grass and wildflowers. Katsuki hated Spring because Spring meant courting season, the awful marital hunt.

The young, and only, son of queen Mitsuki and king Masaru attained a position on the grand bachelor and maiden list as soon as his 15th Spring approached and has been on it since. Despite the weight of the crown bearing hard on the prince’s temples he refused to find a wife each and every year. The queen was on the verge of forcing someone on him. On March nights Mitsuki cursed at her son’s undeniable masculinity. It would be easier if he was a girl.

The martial aspect of Spring pricked at his side like a thorn but there were other nuisances. It was a time when not only did you have to stand up to your enemies, you also had to let them into your home. Trains of carriages and caravans climb up the steep hill road leading into the Bakugo lands. The castle swole with lace, silk, gossip and scheme. It was full of two-faced ministers, greedy lords, gasping matrons and pale princesses.

Katsuki wondered whether he preferred to travel abroad for courting or let that multitude inside his own stone and gem walls. At least the army was here, some units preparing as if for war. Units like his mothers personal guards.

Day and night, Summer or Winter these soldiers run at top speed, and at top secrecy. They were always in the corner, lingering to the queen like a shadow, flat and easy to miss. Katsuki was supposed to build his own unit such as this, pull it together, brick by brick from desperate, lonely and crazy, ones that would sacrifice their life in the name of loyalty and gratitude. Ones that would sparkle at his side like gems in his crown. Ones that would slice throats without even a blink at his single word. That was, of course, a massive exaggeration but the queen made sure to give him this lecture every time a new rumour could be heard about the assassin known as Denki flirting with a cook or when the archiver and historian girl Mina messed up a few very important dates in the chronicle of Katsuki’s life. At least Kirishima was reliable.

Katsuki stomped towards his mother’s writing room in her open-for-guests chambers. The guests took off and it was once more high time to try to persuade him. Names and oil paintings were hung up in the representative corridors leading to the ballroom. Small noses, corseted waists and absent eyes that gazed up into the sky peeking out through the grand windows. All of these seasons maidens presented like cattle on a Sunday village market. Soon bachelors would accompany the lonely girls on the other side of the hallway.

The angry boy slowed down, his boots finally giving the echo of the corridor a break. Slick black hair pulled into a tight ponytail. Diamonds scattering the crown of her head, packed onto a delicate silver web, signalling her worth but also painfully reminding of the lack of a real queens’ crown. At least it matched her eyes.

Yaoyorozu was one of the candidates for Katsuki. Despite her mathematical calmness and chin raised to touch the sky, she fumed every time she saw him. The Yaoyorozu family lacked a crow but swam in wealth. Their banks held and operated on the riches of the neighbourhood kingdom making them important players on the royal courts.

Lord Yaoyorozu tried his luck with the family of his own king but with poor results. Many princes adorned the king’s right hand but none of them would marry with someone of a lower status. At least that’s what they officially said. Next on the list was Katsuki who also refused to take Momo Yaoyorozu. The girl was beautiful, smart and wealthy, but it all meant nothing as her father’s ambitions were too high for her crystal-heel-clad feet.

Another portrait that stung Katsuki’s eyes was yet to be hung. He huffed, a short pathetic laugh. What an irony that the cheeky round face that poked through the messily scattered cloth lay beneath Momo. Someone should quickly gather this portrait or else whatever commoner left this will be punished for offence to a highborn.

Uraraka, a princess well known for Katsuki, smiled cheekily from the frame. Another candidate, this time a real princess. Such a pity her royal family had less funds than the Yaoyorozu. A pity for her, a blessing for Katsuki. She was being held as an option courtesy of friendship rather than position.

Leaving the lifeless faces Katsuki wondered which girl had it worse, which was scattered around more. The wealthy but unprivileged lady or the poor but accepted princess. One thing he knew, he would pick none of them.

Three knocks were enough to be welcomed by his mother. She seemed to be alone in the room. Bookshelves that once were mighty oaks bent under the weight of thousands of books, chronicles and registers. Rugs secured the stone floor giving the room a warmer touch, just as Mitsuki liked. Despite a rather early hour candle flames glistered and twitched around the desk, trapped in glass lanterns. Little daylight was allowed through the narrow windows, always leaving the room in a state of half-shadow.

Katsuki knew that in these elaborately planned out shadows figures lingered in defence of his mother. The prince felt the presence right now but he knew better than to comment on it. Those ears will hear everything but speak of nothing.

“So glad you made it that quick.” The queen turned slightly in her rich chair to face him. The old and well-used wood cracked slightly, though the quiet of the room made it seem like thunder.

“Stop tip-toeing around it and tell me what you have to, old hag.” Katsuki knew what this conversation would be about, he guessed what the bulky volumes in front of his mother were - genealogical trees of high families. It was the same every year.

“Fine. I command you to pick a wife this season. You know the old candidates but there are a few new ones worth taking a look at.” She proceeded to open the book but her son’s harsh voice left her only grazing the cover.

“You can command your little chess pieces of soldiers around, not me. I will not take any of these fake, trained pushovers.” His resistance was hardy.

“You know your responsibilities as a male, and only, heir to the throne. It gets more dangerous each year.” Always the same. Katsuki had enough of it.

“You and dad don’t look like you’re gonna drop dead any moment, which is a pity.” He snarled at his mother like a kid throwing a tantrum - which in fact he was. “I will secure the family line just-” The fierceness of his voice lost its momentum. “Just when I find the right person.”

Did he just admit to his mother that he believed in love? Did he believe in love? He thought about it every Spring, what was it that he was looking for. The princesses were obviously not a match for him because they were all a lifeless mass of similar faces, similar gowns, similar smiles. They were taught to be interested in you, to abide by every need and want, to not ask questions but at the same time to demand the best, tastiest, wealthiest and most luxurious. Katsuki did not wish to play this game. Was he really looking for someone who will make his heart skip a beat? Might as well try.

“Anything else?” He walked around the room grabbing objects and examining them, anything to look away from the disappointed mother in the centre. She sighed.

“Yes. Because of the situation at Todoroki’s I decided to have two of my personal guards watching over you. They have a schedule and will follow your steps for the next months, as long as this farce will take.” Now this, this was new.

Mother was letting two of her dogs off leash. Both excited and annoyed, Katsuki gave her a questioning look. He moved towards her desk, and pushing his abdomen hard into the edge he looked down on his mother. Or so he thought.

“Don’t try to order them around, they already know what to do and they will not abide by a single need of yours.” Though sitting lower she was still looming over him, her shadow longer than his, extended by two additional people.

Finally, he got why she decided such a thing. It was not to keep him safe, it was to make him miserable, push him to his limit and make him succumb to her wants. Who knows what these people will do or how much they will foist themselves on him. Katsuki felt a hand creep up on his throat and ball into a vice grip, suffocating him. He also knew that he will peel those fingers off one by one.

“Meet your daytime guard. Then leave.” Mitsuki gestured to a woman who grew out of the shadow behind her chair.

Katsuki looked the intruder in the eye and let out a short huff, turning on his heel and leaving the writing room in a sour mood.

A few mornings and evenings later Katsuki figured out a bit more about the strange duo following him around. The woman was there during the day while the bulky man with dark wavy hair and a scar on his face guarded his person at nightime. They changed in the evening and morning without much talk.

Those past days the young prince tried to ignore the presence but it became overwhelming, always hearing additional steps behind you. This and the preparation for hosting the ass clapping festival as Katsuki liked to title it.

The castle changed into a busy anthill with servants-ants running back and forth, carrying anything from bouquets to wooden tables all around the place. The prince was needed here and there for very important business such as fitting fancy costumes, giving his opinion on a flower arrangement or signing fifty greeting letters that will be left on the nightstands of the guests’ beds. In simple words, Katsuki had enough.

“Your highness, you are needed in the fitting room.” Shall the white, laced blouses be damned.

Maids jumped around his partially undressed form as they tried to baste a rich red robe around his torso. The loose scraps of material and pins scratched at his skin leaving red marks and giving Katsuki a scowl. The air in the room was stiff and seemed to lack oxygen. The blonde was getting dizzy with all the heavy perfume and powder dancing around in the light of the candles.

“Give me more pins, I need to tighten it here.” One of the seamstresses squeaked.

“Take them yourself, I can’t move right now.” The other one argued

His head slumped down and a deep sigh escaped his lips. How much longer will this take?

“Excuse me. The prince is needed for his evening duties.” A new voice made an interruption.

“We were promised the price will be available today. This fitting was due for a few days.” One of the working women bickered while resting hands on her hips.

“Well, your time has passed.”

The half finished robe was pulled down Katsuki’s arms and shoved into a terrified maid's hands. The prince felt a small hand on the back of his arm. The fingers were so tiny, yet they quickly clasped down in a vice grip, pulling him out of the stuffy fitting room and out into the cold corridor.

“What the fuck am I supposed to do now?” He did not even mind who forced him outside. The preparations, the long days of doing absolute shit, the constant feeling of being watched even in his sleep, Katsuki was too fed up to care.

“Nothing. Or maybe a walk outside would be refreshing if you ask me.”

The prince finally looked up at his companion. It was no one other than the guard woman following him around. She was propped up the corridor wall, arms crossed on her chest, looking out of the window on the ground below.

“Is there something wrong, your highness? Do you wish to go back to the fitting room? You looked rather displeased there and the seamstresses did take their time, didn’t they?” The girl asked with a raised brow.

“Did you really just pull me out of there and lie to them?”

“Are you unhappy with that?”

“Not even a bit. Let’s go outside.”

The evening breeze was refreshing, like a cold shower after a good workout. Katsuki and the guard strolled the park outside of the castle. It was a maze of high hedges, fancy bushes and ponds. The long path led to the grand lake far at the back. The further they got from the castle, the easier it was to mistake the small lights in the windows with stars in the sky. It was peaceful here, sleepy.

“If you wish to know, the name is Cat, my prince.” The guard, Cat, opened her mouth without warning, breaking the melodic tune of night critters.

“Cat is your real name?” He questioned with a brow raised over a scowl. His companion only laughed softly, speaking up no more. Of course it isn’t her name. Of course he would never learn it.

Moonlight shone down on the rich overseas rug giving the warm colours a cold tune. Gold thread twisted and turned forming seemingly endless patterns. Katsuki also twisted in his fur bed sheets, unable to fall asleep. Sweat clung to his overheated body like a second skin. He has to ask for summer sheets, thin like his patience with the restless night.

Pouring himself a goblet of lukewarm water he cursed, exhaustion weighing his shoulders down. Nonetheless, he slipped a soft cotton shirt over his head, pulled on the trousers he left forgotten in the corner and took off in search of some peace in the sleeping castle. The nightguard stalking his every step.

Not finding any relief in his own chambers, Katsuki turned his steps towards his mother’s private rooms and squares. The crushing difference between what was Katsuki’s and what Mitsuki owned was a demonstration of power. Everywhere she could, the queen reminded her son that he was her property. Everywhere he was able to, Katsuki pushed back.

Right now his strategy for enraging the woman was strolling through her chambers at times he shouldn’t. He should be asleep, redying himself for a day packed to the brim with responsibilities. Instead, he opted for passing the scarce guards in silence, looking for a place that would put his nerves at ease.

Far off in the quiet wing of the castle he fished out a familiar figure.

“The fuck you doing there, sneaking around?” He calls out, his voice too loud, cutting through the quiet night like thunder.

There’s a shuffle and Cat turns around to face him fully just as Katsuki enters the square. The smell of flowers is heavy in the air, the queen’s private fruit garden oversaturated with the sweetness of spring life. Katsuki thinks, just for a second, that there’s a glimmer of panic in the guards eye, but her usual polite-jaded expression overtakes her face instantly.

“I am enjoying free time, my prince.” She bows slightly upon his arrival.

“Free time.” The blonde weighs the word on his tongue like a caramel drop. “Sounds exotic.”

“Is there anything you need, my prince?” No response, just blind civility. Noone in this castle, in this world, talked with Katsuki. They obeyed, listened and answered by not one person ever held a conversation with him. Maybe not counting the deliberately selected group of idiots that he called his party. But they are gone now, always seemingly busy during spring. The queen just wanted them away from him, so as not to give him any ideas. Friends were forbidden for a prince.

I need you to shut the fuck up and stop rubbing your free-will into my face. He wanted to shout but the memory of the fitting room, how she freed him of the constricting hands of seamstresses brought Katsuki to a halt. She had more freedom than him, she could do as she pleased when her duty hours were off. Maybe he could use it.

“I need you to speak to me as equals.” He stated, taking a step closer, entering the moonlight square.

“I don’t think this is a good idea, my prince.”

“I don’t want you to suddenly call me by my name, I just want - just talk to me for fuck’s sake.” This is embarrassing. Katsuki cursed the moon’s silver dick for shining so finely today. The pink tinting his cheeks must have been in plain sight. Something shifted in Cat’s expression, relaxation passed over her features, mingling with the usual disinterest.

“Fine.” Her steps were silent as she proceeded to a bench carved out in marble. “I’m listening then.”

“I promise this will stay between us.” The prince dropped down bluntly next to her, swinging his arm over the cool backrest of the uncomfortable bench, his other playing with the loose strings of his cotton shirt, untied, letting his chest breathe fresh night air.

“There is no such thing as a promise here, on court.”

His head whipped her way only to be met with a small smirk. So the woman could speak her mind when she wanted to.

A rich, plump flower sat next to Cat’s head. More of them scattered around the bush leaning on the marble. The one that seemed to nearly graze her cheek was big and flashy, oozing with juices that threatened to spill if you touched it ever so slightly. Katsuki found it repulsive, his mind suddenly drifting off to the thought of wetness.

He looked back, straight ahead to free himself from the shameless flower. His mother tortured him with bees and flower analogies, how he would have to find his flower someday to bear a fruit. It was one of these bushes she made him observe to understand his duty.

Katsuki shook off the nasty feeling.

“So, what do you usually do in your free time?”

“I sleep.”

From the corner of his eye the blonde followed Cat’s movement. She was interested in the flower, poking at it only to get her fingers sticky. Her displeased expression amused him.

“You’re not sleeping now.”

“That’s true.” She stood up and wandered the little maze of flowerbeds and dwarfed trees to find the fountain in the centre. Katsuki following her steps.

A figure appeared in the shadow, leaning on a pillar, watching his every move. The beast of a man, his night time guard, too loud for his own good. A string of curses left Katsuki’s lips. He wasn’t allowed any privacy.

“Cat.” She focused on him, shaking her palm, droplets of water flying in the air. “Switch with the other guy for the night. I want you to guard me.”

It took her a few blinks to think through his order. “And what would I have from it? I would have to be up all night.”

“The next day off. He will take your shift.” The blonde shrugged, as if it was nothing, a mere proposition of business partners too wealthy to mind a single thing. “Besides, if you really care about your rest you would be sleeping right now.” A chuckle left Cat’s lips and Katsuki felt like smiling himself. He did not succumb to the temptation.

“Well, I could use a day off. Have business to take care of.” She came closer and the prince once again thought about the flower. “Did you hear Hound? What do you think about it?”

Hound, the man with messy hair and a messy beard, messy uniform and a crystal clear, sharp look to his eyes stepped onto the square. To Katsuki, he seemed to utterly despise his position, impatience and anger dripping from his face.

“Fine by me.”

“Goodnight then.” Hound huffed at the politeness, turning his back to Katsuki after a short and forced bow, disappearing into the darkness.

“Don’t mind him, my prince, he doesn’t like anyone beside the queen.” Despite Hound’s posture the queen was the real beast here, making a person so blindly loyal.

At once Katsuki felt at ease, alone. He looked up into the sky speckled with stars so very prominent in the moon’s silvery hue. His body felt dry, the sweat of his restless tossing evaporated into the quiet night. He felt fresh and lulled, as if he could fall asleep on the uncomfortable marble bench, his guard sitting on the other side, gazing at the obnoxious flower. He would feel like a still life that hung in the dining room, unmoving and eternal. His life would be still for once, peaceful and silent.

All of it a dream that would never come true.

“What business do you have for tomorrow?” He asked as he sat on the flat surface of the fountain. Every time the light breeze flew by it scooped loose droplets from the fountain, lifting them into the air, letting them dance in the moonlight. It was one of Katsuki’s favourite places to sit as a child, the drops of water hitting his back on hot summer days.

“If I can speak to you as equal for the time being then my business is none of yours, my prince.” Harsh, he thought. He didn’t mind.

“Keep your secrets then.” He scoffed, letting one of his hands dip into the water. It was cool and for a second Katsuki craved nothing more but to tear off his clothes and sink, letting his ears fill up, muffling the sounds of the unbearable world around him. But instead he said. “Just wait until you ask me for something.”

“I would never.” Annoyance forced a scrunch on the bridge of his nose, his pretty face going all ugly. Why didn’t she want to lean on him? He was her ruler. “I would never put more burden on your shoulders, my prince.”

My prince, he was hers but she was not his. She didn’t abide by his needs because she was told to refuse. She was a soldier, a sword in his mothers long-reaching hands that would never be held by him. Her presence reminded Katsuki that he is watched, controlled. Her sharp edge was just underneath his neck, forcing him to hold his chin high, like a prince, and to always look forward, like a future king.

“Why do you have more freedom than I do, huh?” The ugliness never left his face.

“Because I'm nobody.”

“You don’t seem sad about being nobody.”

“Because I’m not.”

Anger bubbled in Katsuki’s veins, promising a night robbed of sleep, one spent twirling in his sheets, gritting his teeth together. Why was this lowborn, this nobody so very free. Why was a capitan, a special guard whose whole existence was dedicated to one painfully narrow task so full of life, so nonchalant. Why did she get to take deep breaths while he was bound to huffs and silent screams. She would never be genuine with him, she did not hold the conversation, she did not answer the questions. She did not talk to him like he wanted, needed. This was a mistake, no longer did he care if it was Hound or Cat at his door tonight. He returned to square one. 

Without another word, Katsuki stood up and left for his chambers. This time the steps following him were silent. The exotic flower leaked its juice onto the marble bench, the sweet stickiness running down to pool at the stone path. It cried silently.

Salty water kissed the shore, although it was running away. The sea wanted to override from the adorned tents and sparkish servants littering the beach. Katsuki’s brows were arched in a nasty frown as he gazed into the endless green and blue and foam, sympathising with it. He would also rather be somewhere else.

While in the castle, the whole party seemed quite peaceful, reserved, safe for a few shallow friendships that were now being brought back to life. The closer they got to the shore, the louder the multitude got. Further away from hawk-like eyes of chaperones and scrutinising queens, the youthful spirit flourished.

Looking to the right Katsuki fished out Ochaco’s round face. She was seemingly discussing some matter with a well known klutz. Oh, how Katsuki despised Midoriya. As much as Ochaco’s dusty wardrobe reminded of her rather pitiful standing in regards to wealth, Midoriya was the embodiment of her kingdom’s woes. The greenish boy was a historian, respected astronomer, mathematician was he also? Katsuki was not interested in what he was seemingly good at. His wandering eyes, never bold enough to look anyone in the face, shaking hands that drop anything they hold, stuttering voice that can’t produce one legible sentence. All that Midoriya was Katsuki hated. If not for the fact that Ochaco’s outright crush on her kingdom’s scholar kept her far from him, maybe he would even mock them.

“If you consider princess Ochaco a valuable cover for your marital affairs, my prince, I’d suggest you tell her not to touch her dear servant’s hand that often.” Capitan cat did not budge a muscle, gazing straight into the sea.

“Half of these people already know. They don’t mind ‘cause she’s not a real player anyway.” Katsuki answered, also keeping his gaze steady. He felt as if they were two predators, wild cats still in tall grass, awaiting prey on the horizon.

At the back of the tent Yaoyorozu burned holes in the back of Katsuki’s head. She sat straight like a stick. No need to hold that head up so high, no one's gonna put a crown on it either way. After a few nasty fights Katsuki knew better than to start with the queen-wannabe. It was enough that he called her princess in front of everyone.

To Momo’s right, drinking the same tea from a finely painted porcelain, sat Jiro. Katsuki pitied the dark haired girl. If not for being Momo’s personal maid, she would be a nice companion. Unfortunately, she had to listen to her lady’s venomous whispering, while also sending Katsuki glances, hers apologetic.

“The Yaoyorozu ladies must have received your letter, my prince.” Cat stated disinterested.

“Glad to hear that.” Katsuki made sure to welcome Momo with a letter clarifying that she is not on his personal list of candidates. This way he saved both of them unnecessary troubles.

Wind blew salt from over the sea, slapping the blonde’s pale cheeks. A gasp and commotion could be heard at the back of the party. A maid of honour slipped on a lace and fell face-flat onto the sand. Despite no harm caused she needed fanning, a chair and at least three people ensuring her safety.

At that moment Katsuki agreed with his mother. This didn’t happen a lot but as he looked his companion up and down he did admit, through gritted teeth, that his mother at least had taste. Cat was dressed in black. Her boots reached her lower thigh, she must have at least a few knives up there. Simple trousers with horse ride edging in the inside on her legs. A jacket, not too official, nothing that would catch unwanted attention. Under the fine, black material a white sheer blouse peaked out.

Katsuki caught her gaze, she was looking at him from the corner of her vigilant eye.

“Is everything alright, my prince.” Her stance was fine, elegant even, with knees together, head high and hands behind a straight back. She did not look like she sported a stick in her butt like Momo, but rather, like she was born to look down on others, despite being shorter than him.

Suddenly, Katsuki wanted to see her in that white blouse. The delicate material would surely dance in the breeze, as if someone draped bed sheets over a statue. Would she look less sharp without the black jacket widening her shoulders.

“Aren’t you hot in that?” It was indeed a hot, spring day.

“I am.” Cat answered with a lazy blink.

“Then take it off, the jacket.”

And she did, and Katsuki, for a moment, felt as excited, as if she was stripping naked in front of him. He was wrong and right. The material was indeed soft and loose around her, dancing in the light breeze, catching salt to scrub out later. Yet, she did not look even a slight bit softer. Her strange pupils were still in the corner of her eyes.

“Thank you, my prince, this does feel better.”

In comparison to all of the clownish servants and maids behind her back, Cat looked like an empress inspecting the sea as if it washed the shore only for her.

“Oh, Captain!” Giggles erupted behind Katsuki and the corner of his red eyes caught an intruder.

In between colourful dresses another gem in the Todoroki’s crown entertained the maids with cheap tricks. Their restless feet tiptoed to see him better. They couldn’t decide whether to look at his handsome face or glamorous crimson wings. The hybrid, the mutant, the eyes and ears of Todoroki, Capitan Hawks. Katsuki wondered how many of those drooling maids with hungry eyes knew what the man really did for a living. Behind the adorned misfit a shadow of a man, a certain Shinso.

“I’ve never seen this… maid with you before.” If not for the proximity of the man, his voice would die out in the salty wind. The Todoroki prince grew out of thin air in front of Katsuki.

Of course Shoto wouldn’t bother with a greeting, how could the ethereal prince mind something as mundane. Right now the blonde didn’t know whether he’d rather look at Hawk’s stupid tricks or at Shoto’s stoic face. Neither, if he could choose. Those two rarely came in pairs.

“Cat’s not a maid, she’s a guard.” Although he would rather sit quietly through the fact that for the last weeks he moved around with a babysitter, Katsuki felt that his captain’s rank should be highlighted in front of the Todoroki prince. If he had to move around with a her he’d at least show her off, make it seem as if she was a precious and deadly decoration, a blade fastened to his hip.

“Oh yes, my brother’s emerging a few months ago has everyone alert.” Shoto sighed as if he was talking about an unfavourable score in a knight tournament, not about a serial killer stalking the highbourns. A serial killer who came from his own royal family. “Nothing I can do about it right now.” The half and half prince looked into the sea.

You could evaporate from the world and that would surely make that psycho of a brother happy. Katsuki thought but couldn’t really say anything, shouldn’t. Talking about the missing brother in broad daylight was taboo. Cat also seemed to know that.

“Beautiful day for some recreation on the beach, your highness.” Her strange pupils, now more round and relaxed, locked on Shoto. “Are you feeling well, is there anything you would fancy?” Suddenly, Katsuki felt as if Cat was a bit too hospitable.

“Hm, I do maybe feel a little bit bored.” If that was true, Shoto’s plain face hid all of his emotions.

“Is there anything we can do to change that, your highness?” We? Of course, Katsuki should be the one asking that and walking around entertaining the guests. “Maybe a horse ride?” The stoic prince perked up for a moment, nodding his head lightly. “Very well, I will send for steed.”

Soon three sizable horses were brought over, stablemen with bowed heads passing the reins into royal hands. Before they took off Shoto gestured for his captain to come over. Nestled in the saddle, he spoke in a disinterested tone. “We’re going off for a ride, I will be in the Bakugo captain’s care.”

“Do you wish for me to fly over you, your highness?” Katsuki swore he heard a few gasps upon the word fly. It was not an everyday view to see the captain use his wings for something else than showing off. Katsuki was certain the blonde mutant was a creature of the night.

“No need Hawks.” Without another word Shoto dug the heels of his boots into the horse’s side.

It wasn’t long before Katsuki felt left out. He rode slowly behind his two companions, comparing their stances and words. They both seemed rather stiff. Cat’s hips swayed with the horse’s movement, similar to his, but her shoulders were tense, hands gripping the rein with a strange focus to it. Shoto looked like he mounted a horse for the first time. Sure, he kept in the saddle but his body lacked the natural movement. Katsuki was sure his ass would hurt in the evening.

Despite their weird riding, the two managed to uphold a shallow conversation. The blonde deemed the words that left their mouth absolute rubbish, but at the same time he couldn’t find a moment to butt in. Cat and Shoto created an awkward but sturdy combination.

“I find it a day too beautiful to talk about my work.” Cat’s voice was soft, as if she was talking to a child.

“You simply can’t talk about it.” Shoto learned no new boundaries since they saw each other last time, still speaking whatever came to his mind.

“I’m content you understand, your highness.” There was no sense for Katsuki to feel threatened by Shoto’s shallow discovery. Everyone on the court had their secrets and no person yielding a sword was without sins. Every guard, especially the one designated to a prince, was there for a reason no ears should ever catch. The same went for Hawks, who was left far behind in the avalanche of satin and lace, Katsuki knew the man did some shady business but what kind exactly, no clue.

“But the day indeed is beautiful.” Shoto was a poor rider and the fact was painfully visible. The Todoroki prince wasn’t looking ahead of him and if not for the slow pace of their ride, he would surely divert off the route. His eyes were locked on Cat who guided the small group.

Katsuki wanted her to put on the coat once again and shield her chest chiselled in stone. The white blouse, swept by the wind, seemed too vague, to see-through for her. Shoto was looking at his mighty guard and she presented herself in a blouse suitable for a lady in distress, who wandered off too far in her nightgown. Cat’s high-waisted trousers hugged her form accentuating the movement of her hips and Shoto was looking.

“Yes, the weather is warm, very warm in fact.” The prince breathed out and let the rein loose. His horse started to turn the moment it felt a lack of a humans’ hand but Cat was quick to bend down and put it in its track.

“Your highness, you shouldn’t let it loose. The Bakugo horses are known for being feisty.” She scolded him softly.

“Oh, sorry, I just got a bit hot.” Shoto answered, no emotions lacing his tone, as he shrugged off his rich coat. How can he feel at ease after just being scolded by a guard. He tucked the garment around his saddle and kept on with his poor ride, taking back the rein from Cat. Now, both of them were only in white, cotton blouses and Katsuki felt it was too intimate for his liking. Kicking his horse, he jammed between the two.

“I was fucking bored back at the picnic but now it’s even worse.” The blonde brute eyed Shoto who looked back at him with a slightly shocked expression. The fuck you staring at.

“What would make you feel better, my prince?” Cat still looked ahead of herself, disregarding the disruption to her conversation.

“Some action.” He grunted in response. “Like a race.”

Oh, how his blood started to rush in his veins at the thought of challenging his guard. What if he could make her sweat and gasp? Would she fight for her breath, biting her lips while trying to win? Was she even competitive?

“To the southern beach gate.” Katsuki grinned, snaring her into a battle. He also wished to get rid of Shoto, leaving him behind in his poor attempts to catch up.

“Okay.” Cat answered, looking at him from the corner of her eye, unfazed.

Digging his heels hard into the horse’s sides the blonde rushed forward, forcing a canter. He lay low, nearly hugging the massive neck of his steed, gripping the rein hard enough to leave marks on his palms. The horse cut through the sweeping shore line, water splashing from under its hooves. Without looking behind, Katsuki pulled the rein, forcing the animal to turn, guiding it towards a more grassy ground. As soon as his steed felt soil instead of sand it rushed forward with confidence, making Katsuki’s golden hair dishelve in the wind.

The prince reached the gate in master time. He raced the beach since he was six or seven. Gasping, he turned the horse around, combing his now unkempt hair back with his hand. Neither Cat nor Shoto showed up from behind the tall cliffs that hugged the beach from one side. Katsuki relaxed in the saddle, unclipping his own coat and taking it off to feel the breeze hit his softly clothed skin. The prince couldn’t wait to see the look of defeat on Cat’s face.

Soon the two figures turned and came in view, but despite starting with two horses they only came back with one. They neared him and Katsuki felt as if he lost, despite winning the short race. Shoto sat behind his captain, due to the slow pace at the finishing line he wasn’t hugging her tightly, rather his hands sat loosely in her tights. He was flushed tightly against her back, the saddle too small for two people to feel comfortable. As Cat guided the horse close to him, she made it stand side-to-side so that they all could look at each other. Katsuki had a perfect view of how Shoto’s crotch pushed into Cat’s butt, the saddle still too small despite Katsuki’s displeased look.

“Congratulations, my prince, you won.” Cat said without a hint of discomfort.

“Why the fuck are you on one horse? This idiot has his own.” The blonde spoke but his gaze was locked onto where their bodies connected.

“It would be an utmost disrespect of my if I left prince Todoroki alone, my highness, as price Todoroki cannot race.” Katsuki felt a dissonance. With the delicate highborn strapped onto her back, she looked like Todoroki's guard rather than Bakugo’s and such sharing did not fit into his mind. Now, the blonde wished for Hawks who could assist his damned useless prince, to set his Cat free. “The third horse should follow us.” But of course, the damn thing didn’t.

After a while they decided to head back, Cat and Shoto even closer than before. Katsuki didn’t know if he preferred to ride behind them to keep watch over Shoto’s hands or rather in front to save himself the sight of their phantom hugging. As soon as they wandered back to the multitude, which didn’t ignore Shoto’s position, Katsuki jumped off the horse shooting the two a hateful glare. Cat slid off of the horse first and lent a hand to Shoto who gracefully accepted it. They looked like a lady and knight but reversed. The blonde scoffed and threw Cat’s jacket into her hands after grabbing it from her saddle. He draped his coat back over his shoulders and his captain followed, without a word.

“My prince.” Hawks seemed to catch interest in the strange situation. Shoto stood there, between the massive horses in his cotton undershirt only, like a lost child. Of course he forgot his coat as it stayed on the steed that wandered off. “What happened?”

“We raced.” The half and half answered his concerned guard. “Cat offered to take me on her horse to ensure my safety.” He began picking at the hem of his sleeves, as if only now realising his attire.

“Captain.” Hawks bowed his head slightly to Cat in a silent ‘thank you’ which she seemed to ignore. “Did you like it, my prince?”

Shoto looked up slightly. The sky reflected in one of his eyes. “No.” He breathed out after a second of silence.

“Gather yourself, we’re heading inside.” Katsuki scoffed having heard enough of this nonsense. Few heads turned his way, displeased frowns springing on their faces.

He felt immense anger burning in his inside and bubbling up in his veins. The blonde was helpless despite his raging. Nothing he did, no action he undertook today went out as planned. Everywhere he went, the captain’s attitude reminded him that he did not rule over her, every move she made screamed of his mother’s doing. She was perfect in every ounce. Steady, royal and polite. Reserved but at the same time sweet and somehow caring for the ones she had to be, to the tip of her fingers that grazed Shoto’s as he slid off of the horse. Katsuki had enough of this court coded, pompous bullshit. Cat still had plenty of hours of her duty, following his steps wherever he went, entering every room he went into in spite of his curses. So he will head back into the castle, back into his chambers. He will close the door behind them and show her that even though she is under his mothers rule, he will be the one holding her lead. She is stuck with him just as much as he is stuck with her and he will prove to her that there is not one person in this kingdom that doesn’t do as he pleases.

One thing that day went as he planned so far as tiny raindrops fell from the sky bringing the picnic to an end.

“I want you to guard me tonight.”

“As you wish, my prince.”

Katsuki’s attitude was visible in plain sight, his boot clad feet stomping angrily on the paved floor of the castle grounds. A pair of silent steps following his every turn. The rain was hammering down by the time the whole multitude reached safety under a roof and it swept up the dust in corridors, barging in through arched doorways. As he passed down his mother’s fruit garden, Katsuki spotted the obnoxiously rich flowers being tossed around, their soft and fleshy petals torn off clean, revealing a juicy weeping core.

Serves them right, die. He thought as a chill crept up his spine. The flowers and bees will haunt him till the end of his days.

Laundry girls and guards jumped off of his route, as the angry prince stormed through corridors. Just a second longer, a few passageways and he will be safe and sound in his chambers, by the fireplace devouring on its warmth. And then… then what?

“Stop right there, brat.” A voice, harsh like the upcoming thunder, made him halt. Not her, not at this moment! “In, now.” She looked down on him, a frown passing through her features, a hand rich in golden rings holding the door open for him. “Alone.” She spat, looking at the guard behind his back.

With a heart full of hate and stomach bursting with anger Katsuki entered one of the endless rooms of the queen’s. Half-shadow seemed to stick to her butt, the places she spent her time in never lit properly. Was it her preference, safety precautions, or was it simply her ruthlessness oozing out, never letting her taste brightness.

Rulers pay high prices for their power. She used to say, Katsuki barely old enough to reach her knee, as he gripped the silky fabric of her dress, the two of them strolling through parks.

Did it backlash, mother? All the years you spent moulding me in the shape you wanted hitting you back with twice the strength. Katsuki will never be the same as her, he will not let her rule over this kingdom, through his hands, after she closes her eyes for the last time.

“What is it this time, you old hag?” The prince didn’t even bother stepping inside the room, opting for standing in the doorway, his back pressing into the oak.

“I’ve heard you’re overusing one of the guards.” So she took an interest in his little nightly escapades with Cat. Look how caring she could be when it came to her own pawns, merely the second night and she already went into action. “I don’t care how many kitchen girls, maids of honour of even stable boys you fuck, but listen to me carefully here.” The queen’s accusation finger darted his way. “Don’t you dare touch that guard, she has her own duties to fulfil.”

A few painfully long seconds passed by as Katsuki mulled over her words. He had no such intentions in the first place. Sure, a foggy image of putting the stubborn and nonchalant capitan in her place played on repeat in his brain, but he never even thought it through. There was no plan, no certainty in his actions, just plain and primal instincts telling him to assess his superiority. God, did her lessons get to me finally?

And then it clicked. What better place for the one who held her chin so high, the one who shone like a finely polished blade in his mother’s secret box of knives, the one that treated him with so little respect, what better place than under him? Your own games will eat you up, mother. He thought, as a grin crept up his poorly lit face. Once again he reached for the scarce reserves of self-discipline and fought off the smile.

“If you’re really interested in my bedding so much then remember this: I’m not a whore.” He spat, turning to grab the handle, nearly shaking with excitement.

“She’s to be conferred a title of nobility. Don’t you dare destroy it!” But he was no longer listening, the heavy doors swinging open to reveal the disinterested capitan.

Mitsuki was left in silence and darkness, free to contemplate and place the conversation deep within her web. He may not listen, that idiot, but she surely will. Out of all, this outcome was one she didn’t think about earlier, but all is not lost. An easy way out of this mess popped up in her head and let her back rest deep within the cushions of her seating. If he does something stupid, she strikes. If he reflects on his actions and takes the right path, she may see it as a small parenting victory. Plans inside plan, Katsuki. You still know so little.

Inside his chambers, Katsuki sat in front of the fireplace. Patting the place next to his, he gestured for Cat to sit. With curiosity written all over her face, she entered the dimly lit room and sat, legs crossed.

“Speak with me, Cat.” He said, no doubt she knew what he wanted. In the fruit garden, Katsuki felt the need to have her be true to him. Now, it was only a game. He didn’t care whether she was forcing, lying or spitting facts about herself, all he needed was for her to feel safe. Could he fool her, lure her like a moth to light, or will he just have to take her by force?

He slowly got why they called her Cat. The captain was agile and quick, silent and with a certain liquid-like laziness to her. Cats’ had claws, sure, but they would not stand a chance in front of a lion.

“So, you’re gonna become a nobility? How generous of my mother.” The blonde nearly laughed. So very generous to me.

“My task requires me to attain that title, yes.” She was looking around the room, from the fur draped bed in the far back, through the windows now obliterated with heavy covers, to the fireplace that cast a warm hue on her features.

“If I was you, I’d rather stay a nobody.” A slight scrunch to her nose and Katsuki knew she wanted to say something but her lips remained a straight line. “Not spilling your secrets, huh?”

“You’re not spilling yours, my prince.” Her turn of tables was sudden, she seemed a master at guiding a conversation away from herself.

“What secrets do I have? There is no such thing as privacy for a prince.” His eyes wandered to her crossed legs, just for a second, not to draw unwanted attention from the vigilant, strange eyes. Will she fight? Will she tear her claws into his back or will she succumb, like a cute little kitten?

“Everyone has secrets.”

“And my mother has the most.”

Cat let out a small, genuine laugh. It was like a warm breeze from over the beach on a spring day that you don’t expect, one that has you thinking about the beauty of summer, glistering water and hot days. One that puts a smile on your face. For a second Katsuki thought that making her hate him could hurt. But then, she rested her hands on the floor behind her, her chest stretching, the adorned buttons reflecting the light of the fireplace, the crest of his royal family. His thought was gone, like a single strand of silk that snaps. It was replaced with the need to tear those buttons, one by one, showing her how deep in his ass he had her duty.

“When will you get the title?”

“In a month.” Her eyes never really landed on him since she entered the room.

“So simultaneously with the first engagements.” He stated, matter-of-factly.

There was a shuffle and one of the covers moved as if a strong wind smacked the side of the castle. In an instant Cat went from relaxed and lazy to high alert. It made Katsuki second guess his strength over her.

“Stay put, my prince, I will check this.” With a knife steady in her hand, the captain crept up to the window, her steps silent as ever. After peaking out her head slowly she let her shoulders slump back. “It’s just a fat owl.”

Cat took her place back beside him, hiding the knife away. Just how many did she hold?

“Speaking of engagements.” Something shifted in the way she was looking at him, from under her lashes, her pupils strangely small. Suddenly, Katsuki felt like a prey. “How is your wife hunt going?”

So he wasn’t the only one titling the whole farce a hunt. Nonetheless, the question took him off guard and the blonde promised himself to punish her for each and every time she’d done that so far.

“Like each year. I’m sending hateful letters and pretending not to see Ochaco’s tries to get pregnant with that useless scholar of hers.” He had to take it slow, getting closer inch by inch.

Cat hummed in response, seemingly falling in deep thought. Turning, she lay down, her cheeks facing the fireplace to catch more of the delicious warmth. “Your mother seems to be displeased with your doings, my prince.”

“Nothing I do ever pleases her.” He scoffed, drinking in her vulnerable position, with hands under her head, one leg propped up.

“That’s because you’re acting like a pawn, not like a player.” The punishment of hers will be severe. “Instead of breaking her rules, challenge them. Make your own plans and put them into action, let them collide with hers to see who can weave a better web.” Cat looked him straight in the eye and what Katsuki saw was some kind of amusement, as if the woman was a spectator in a theatre, watching the play unfold before her.

Once again Katsuki felt like he realised something too late.

“Do you want to be a nobility?” He asked, his voice shaky with excitement and unease.

“I’ve already told you, I was fine as a nobody but my task requires me to be elevated.” Her voice was utterly disinterested, as if she was talking about someone else.

She was forced into things just as much as he was. She was a pawn and how could she not be exasperated with his doings. He was indeed acting like the little chess piece in his mothers arms, able to move only one square each side on his own. All the while he had the potential to become a player. Don’t worry my dear, I will answer your silent prayer. With the way she spoke to him, to the best of her ability given her position, the way she moved, the way she looked at him. It was all a quiet ask for him to use the given situation.

Katsuki didn’t know the details of this supposed mission of hers, why she had to become a nobility, but what he knew, finally caught, was that she looked for a way to wiggle out of it. He was the way.

On all fours, the prince crept up to his capitan. She was just about to question what is it that you need, my prince but he silenced her ask with his lips.

His hands roamed the thick black jacket, tearing the upper buttons just as he wished to, lips clasped tightly around hers, tongue exploring the bratty, nonchalant mouth. As he tore down the jacket and blouse from one of her shoulders, revealing her soft skin and one of her breasts, he spotted little scars scattered every now and then. Without second thought he began marking the uneven skin from the crook of her neck to the soft mound. Katsuki felt the need to grind on her tight, his excitement growing at the taste of her cleavage and then he received a hard kick to his abdomen.

He felt the heat of her body slip from under him as he fell forward, cheek hitting the place where she was just a second ago, the prickly rug damaging the side of his face. A weight on his back forced him down, a dull pain spreading from under one of his shoulder blades. The prince wanted to gasp but there was no air in his lungs, his throat constricted by a tiny hand with nails way too sharp.

“What is it that you’re doing, my prince?” Her voice was venomous, like she wanted to spit on him. Her hand grabbed his fair hair, letting him take in a shaky breath. He was forced to look at her from the corner of his eye, his scalp burning with the way she tugged his strands.

Her jacket and blouse were still undone, now both of her breasts spilling out, revealing a set of marks twin to the one he just gave her. Katsuki started to laugh.

“So you’re allowed to sleep around with others but I’m not good enough for you, huh?” The blonde didn’t know what hurt more, the grip on his hair, the knee in his shoulder blade or the rejection and lack of willpower to throw her off.

“You’re my prince, I could not possibly sleep with you.” She spat.

“Prince this, prince that. Fuck you.” He bared his teeth at her, but all that it gave him was dust in his mouth. “I’m too much of a price to get to dick you down but not prince enough to not treat me like a peasant thief! Let go of me, posing danger to your crown is punished by death.”

“I’m not posing any danger to you, my prince. Just keeping you on the right track. My ass is not beside it.”

“Everyone gets to tell me what to do. Get the hell off of me and fuck off, you and everyone!” His trashing built up. The prince tried to surpass the pain in his back but the more he moved, the harder she pushed. Her knee slid dangerously to his spine and dug in, earning a cry from him.

“Then stop fucking around and start acting. Stop pushing your nose in other peoples’ games and start playing your own, my prince.” With that she let go.

As soon as he felt relief in his back, Katsuki jumped to his knees with a hiss, the bruised muscles burning. He swung around drawing a knife of his own but the captain was already at the door. She pulled the loose material of her blouse making her breasts jiggle and fall back into their constricts. Katsuki wished to grab them as hard as her throat to choke all of her curses right out, fuck her until she couldn’t think of any more.

A look of disgust, one of hatred, fear or at least hurt, anything would be better than the expression she held. Her eyes were focused, crazed, corners of her lips turned upwards in a grin, the overall look apologetic. She traced the hickeys on her neck with a finger before letting her arm loose.

Cat pushed the door open and disappeared into the night. Mere seconds after the knife dug into the wood just where her forehead was. Katsuki stood alone in the dimly lit room unable to throw the look of her face out of his head. Once again he felt like his actions were not his own, like he was a puppet with millions of strings pulled by everyone.

The golden prince asking for a private audience with the queen was nearly as rare as getting struck by lightning twice, or shitting out a diamond. Yet, here he was, opening the door to her sombre writing room, the lowlife soldiers and gardeners whispering behind his back.

Yesterday night had him thinking hard, hard enough to cause a persistent headache. He didn’t give a shit about Cat’s rejection. Truth be told, he did not need overflowing affection to force her into a relationship, which is what he demanded right now.

Katsuki has been beaten in training, thousands of bruises littering his skin after every match with Kirishima. The prince was berated for his attitude by scholars and other hotshots of this kingdom. He was feared and despised by damsels who faked their interest, performing the never ending ritual of fluttering their eyelashes and sparing him glances appropriate for virgins. Katsuki was many things and beard even more every day on the court, but never has he felt as used as he does now.

Stop pushing your nose in other peoples’ games and start playing your own, my prince.

He wished never to play any games, he desired nothing more but a truthful life and even more clear ruling. He promised himself that he would never be like his mother. He was supposed to be a lion, a dragon, not a spider sitting in the dark, weaving never ending strings of lies and deception. Katsuki will achieve what he wants, and he will force the woman that used him so badly last night to finally see with her own eyes that a crystal clear world is possible, under his watchful eye.

She will watch and she will gape in awe. Then, she will thank me.

Was it a simple demonstration of power that he wanted? Did he feel the need to snatch one of his mother’s toys for his own use to anger her? Did he want Cat to sob, kneeling and clutching his cloak, thanking him for breaking her out from the web. Did he want to break her out? Was he seeing a reflection of himself in her so very strange eyes, what he could have been if he let his mother toss him around? Or maybe he simply wanted to silence her, show her that at the end of the day he’s the one dealing the cards of their fate.

Katsuki was not sure what his intentions were. What he did plan though, all night long, was his next step.

“Listen closely ‘cause I’ll only say it once.” The blonde shut the heavy door, leaving all of the whispers and commotion outside. The smell of parchment and ink was heavy in the dusty air.

“What do you want from me today, brat?” Mitsuki sighed.

“I decided on my bride. I want -”

The queen started silencing him, waving a ring-heavy hand in front of her face. This indeed was a strange day because Katsuki listened.

“Let me savour this moment, son.” Son. The word left her lips so rarely it sounded exotic. The queen stood up, shoving the dark adorned chair and straightening her dress. She circled the desk, reached for two goblets and poured wine for both of them, blood red wine. “So, who’s the unlucky one?”.

“Cat, in a month. When she will become a nobility.” The vessel felt odd in his hand. Katsuki never really drank with his mother on other occasions than representative ones. This intimate moment, the two of them sharing good wine, discussing the future, and coming to an agreement, Katsuki could almost get fooled. Almost.

“Not a chance.” She threw disinterested, not interrupting her savouring of the wine.

“One scandal is all I need to make the girl utterly worthless, the only option she - the both of you will have is either give her away to me or have her disgraced for life.” The bloody liquid shook in his golden goblet.

“As if you would be able to corner her.” The queen laughed, a venomous, derogatory snicker. “Don’t even get started. I already know about everything from yesterday.”

Katsuki scoffed. So she did run back to her torturer and spill out everything, just as she promised she wouldn’t.

There is no such thing as a promise here, on court.

Of course, she never even promised anything in the first place.

“And here I was, thinking you got smarter over the night.” The queen sat down by the desk, getting back to her initial position and attitude, cold, closed, and angry.

“What is your problem? Why can’t I get her? She’s strong and seems rather clever, knows a lot about the court and will be free of any family baggage.” Katsuki put the wine on his mother’s desk, restraining himself from dousing her mocking face in it.

“The girl has other duties.” Dipping a long quill in ink, she began to write, not sparing her son even a glance.

“Ones that she doesn’t want.”

“Did she tell you that?”

“No. But-”

“Then that is not true.” When Mitsuki finally turned towards Katsuki, her gaze was stern and utterly disappointed. A grimace twisted her face, one that often blemished his. They were so similar. “Make a smart choice, take Ochaco. Her family is too poor to pose any political danger to us and they will gladly agree to whatever we say. If you despise her that much you can beget a son with any whore in this kingdom and we will simply make Ochoco pretend it’s hers. From what it looks like the princess already has a sweetheart so as long as you let her keep that boy in her chambers, you won’t have to even look at her a second time.”

Katsuki gritted his teeth until his jaw cried out in pain.

“Is this the life you want for me?” He asked with unconcealed anger oozing out of every pore in his body.

“That’s a life I don’t want for anyone.” She shoved the quill down the long inkpot and looked at her prince. “But you’re a future king, you don’t get the courtesy of doing what you like or want. You do what’s best for the nation, for all of your people.”

Thousands of thoughts spiralled in Katsuki’s aching head, none of which showed him a route to victory in this war. Either way he will lose something. Now, he has to pick how much damage he will inflict on himself in order to please everybody else, to secure the nation, to become a king.

“And what if I give you a compromise, mother.” Without a doubt the name took her by surprise. For a second she saw her little boy, the fair haired ball of anger, clinging to the hem of her dress, shouting and cursing into the air. Mitsuki knew that time was long gone. If she kept treating him like a child, like a son, she would lose her priorities, their shared priorities - the lineage, the court, the kingdom.

“What compromise would it be?”

“I take Ochaco and you give me Cat as a mother of my children. Ochaco will pretend it’s hers in front of the whole damn world. Inside my chambers I get to savour my real family.”

There was a long while of utter silence. No scolding, snickering or curses left the queen’s lips, much to Katsuki’s surprise. Fear and excitement started to sink into his bones, fear for rejection, excitement for the time glimmer of hope that the silence lit.

“I will think about it. That is-” A long sigh, biting her lower lip and looking at the narrow window. “That’s not the best option but it also ain’t the worst one.”

Their gaze met for the last time this day. Her eyes were distant, calculating something in her head, weighing the options and fitting them into her web.

“I will think about it. For now, Cat is withdrawn from your side due to your abuse. The last outbreak of the Todoroki eldest forces me to strengthen their garda with my own forces. I do not wish to put more of my soldiers into broad daylight than I have to, therefore Cat will be appointed as another guard for Todoroki. Kirishima, who I will bring back, and Hound will guard your side in the daytime. For the night, a new guard will be appointed but do care to keep him out of the picture as much as you can.”

“Did you know that our families would already be connected if not for my sister's holy order?”

“Everyone has their duties.”

The lukewarm conversation between Shoto and his newly appointed babysitter made Katsuki nauseous. They were discussing everything and nothing at the same time. How the weather was nice, who would likely get engaged this year, what tea is the most refreshing for the upcoming summer, how buffed sleeves are going into fashion.

“That’s true, but it would be nice to have Katsuki and my sister married.” Saying this the half and half prince looked at his blonde companion. Biting his tongue, Katsuki forced himself to look away. The Todoroki princess was not needed in this conversation. “We did not suppose that Queen Bakugo would only bear one child. That’s a pity but we are still looking for a way to connect our bloodlines.”

We. Shoto was speaking as if he had a say in his fathers plans. The thought of the ethereal prince having more power in his kingdom than Katsuki had in his angered him further. Kirishima huffed quietly as he always did when his golden bastard of a prince became moody. Hound seemed to be sleeping in the back of the open sun terrace where a small social gathering was being held. Supposedly courtesy of Katsuki, truthly his mother's.

“Creating an alliance between the two neighbourhood kingdoms would be a powerful move, your highness.”

“It would. Do you want to try?” Despite a few wide-eyed stares, Shoto grabbed a golden plate with rich chocolate pralines and offered it to Cat.

“I must refuse, your highness.” With a polite face and a tiny smile, the capitan shook her head.

“Such a pity. You don’t like sweets?”

“I do. I just simply don’t have the appetite right now.” Of course she couldn’t scold him by telling the prince that offering what should be for the royals to a mere guard is a faux pas. Katsuki snickered, catching Cat’s gaze, savouring it as long as she spared it.

“Hawks also likse sweets, don’t you?” The centre of all female attention of the room (maybe beside Ochaco) nodded his head. “You two have something in common. That and the fact that you’re both called with animal names.”

The two guards looked at each other. Hawks flashed his signature grin while Cat answered with lack of interest, looking up into the sky .The warm breeze made loose strands of her hair dance. Katsuki wished to comb his fingers in them and grip tight.

“That’s funny. Birds and cats don’t usually go together.” Shoto laughed and a few other people decided it would be a good idea to accompany, even if the joke was lame.

“It’s just a pseudonym, your highness.”

“Oh, so you do have a name? Hawks also has one.” A few interested heads turned their way. “But sadly I don’t know it. And even if I would, I couldn't really tell you.”

“Likewise, your highness.”

Never in his life has Katsuki experienced such a talkative Shoto. The blonde honestly thought that the lack of expression on the stone-like face of the half and half prince connected with his utter silence was the bane of his existence. A chirping Shoto came out to be even worse.

“Now that you’re in my party-” Katsuki hated the sound of those words. “I should have Hawks take you for a flight. The sea looks magnificent from that height.”

Cat clicked her tongue but shut her mouth, opting for a smile only.

“It would be an honour.” The winged man butted in. “Unless you’re scared of heights.”

“I am not, thank you very much.” The civil smile that Cat graced Shoto with turned ironic when she faced Hawks. Katsuki guessed cats and birds indeed don’t go well together, as the two seemed to hold some kind of grudge.

“You should try now! I want to see Hawks fly. The terrace is a perfect spot to take off.” Shoto pointed at the dead drop that fanned out on the other side of the railing. “Believe me it’s fun.”

Without an appropriate option to say no, Cat was left nearing the edge of the sun terrace, looking over into the ground down below. Every head was turned her way, some glances jealous as the winged capitan’s hands snaked around her waist. She twisted in his grab, placing her arms around his neck.

“Should you feel scared, don’t hesitate to use your legs as well.” A grin sprung on his handsome face and a maid sitting behind Katsuki started to fan herself. Katsuki wished for nothing more than to rip the sticky hands of the capitan away from Cat but any outburst could blow his cover. Shoto looked as pleased as punch.

“Thank you, I’ll see how it goes.” At least Cat’s face made Katsuki less angry as she held a slightly disgusted grimace, looking over her shoulder at the drop. Maybe it could be fun, hearing her bloody scream as they take off.

Nothing like that happened. One second Hawks was standing on the railing, with the captain in his hands, the next they were gone. He fell face-forward into the air and a couple of loud flirts later they were both far away, heading for the sea.

Few girls ran to the edge of the terrace, squinting their eyes in the sun, trying to make out the shrinking figures. Hound puffed out air through his nose, standing up from his sitting point, taking the place of the now gone guards beside Shoto’s back.

“Katsuki.”

“Young prince.”

Young prince. The adjective must have tasted like a well aged wine on the tongue of King Todoroki. He savoured every second of diminishing Katsuki. This, the aggression, dominance, and ruthlessness was a game the golden prince knew how to play, and he was more than happy to compete.

“You are not needed in this conversation.” His mother graced him with a pale cheek and a side eyed look. There was no need for her to go to the extent of turning to face him fully, for he was barely a prince.

“Why so? As a future king he may want to bear witness to changes.” Spite as sweet as sun kissed strawberries.

The Queen sent a dirty look towards King Todoroki, but abided by his unusual invitation. As Katsuki took a step inside the darkened room his gaze met Shoto. Changes? What changes were they talking about?

Suddenly Katsuki was back to his youth. Mitsuki dragged him by the shoulder that stretched painfully with every insistent tug. They nearly ran, passing monumental columns and soaring windows. The small, maybe ten years old Katsuki was thrown into a room, the doors shutting behind them as darkness enveloped his boyish figure.

“You are not to play a king when you are not one!”

She yelled, gritting her teeth. All the young prince did was slam through the door to a council meeting, shouting his ideas to the thousand-year-old ministers, just like his mother did every time she felt the need to be heard.

Was he being stuffed in a costume, with a fake crown and staff just now? Were they going to burst in laughter straight to his face? Were they, once again, leaving him behind, deciding what’s the best for him without bothering to ask the object’s opinion? Was this even going to be about him? With two Todoroki members present nothing was certain.

“What are you discussing?” Katsuki knew better than to allow them such games.

“The possibility of connecting our bloodlines.” The Todoroki King outran Mitsuki in his explanation.

“Have you kept a daughter in hiding all these years?” Katsuki snickered, spreading out in the richly padded chair, the soft cushions embracing his tired back.

“It shall not be a true blood connection but one that will be politically accurate.” His mother swished yet another blood red wine around a crystal glass. Some wondered whether she ever drank them or simply held them as decoration.

“And one that will please Shoto.” Since when did the King care for his childrens’ pleasure?

The ethereal prince kept his cool, the porcelain mask that he seemed to have been born with secured his face, declining Katsuki any chance at guessing what hid under the facade. If anything lay there at all.

Weave your own web.

He will not, Katsuki will stand up to any fight thrown his way. He will clash, head straight, with anything that stands in his way. If he is to become the king he wishes to be, he needs to target the right opponent, one that will one day bear the twin seat of kingship.

“So are you finally getting some bitches, half n’ half?”

“I would certainly not call her that.” Shoto looked down to the floor. He seemed to be tracing the hewed lines of the stone, peaking out of the opulent rugs, as if he longed for their cold in this castle burning with hatred.

“Then what would you?”

“I would like to know if she finally decided to give out her name.”

That sickly sweet, hazy gaze, his ring heavy fingers rubbing mindless circles into the chair’s armrest, the lightness of his shoulders. Shoto, despite being the least persistent, the most insular, the quietest and the most delicate looked like a captor in this very moment. He didn’t even spare Katsuki a glance. Why would he? Shoto already got what Katsuki couldn’t have.

There was always the possibility of a misunderstanding. It couldn’t be the enigmatic Cat he was talking about. As much as the golden prince fought with the idea, his instincts told him otherwise. What other nameless woman caught Shoto’s scarce interest? Who else was soon to bear a political position.

The Queen gazed upon a window, a small one embedded into the sloping ceiling, where the moon showed its palace cheek. It was shamelessly bright this might, no clouds obscuring the view. Katsuki wondered whether his mother was a werewolf or a witch, looking so intensely into the silvery disc, not sparing her son even one glance.

Later that night, away in his chambers Katsuki sought the centre of this labyrinth. He was forcefully removed from the small meeting held between the monarchs, as he started an argument that is and would always be out of his power, his mother’s words.

Was it all planned? Was Cat meant for Shoto from the very beginning? It that why she was getting the title? Was she supposed to get closer to the half and half prince by Katsuki’s means?

That would be pointless. She could just be admitted to the Todoroki prince from the beginning. Katsuki’s involvement in this operation didn’t make sense. He was an additional piece that didn’t fit anywhere. And his mother never used to be futile in her resources.

Ever since Katsuki was fifteen, he was forced into every marital council meeting. They were held in a rather grand room, seating kings and queens, their ministers and right-hands. Servants run round with bowed heads pouring wine to goblets that never seemed to be resting on the table, rather the content was being poured down thirsty throats. The chatter was loud, the whole room buzzing like a bees nest. Or more like hornets with how sharp these peoples’ claws were.

The golden prince paced around the castle looking for such a meeting. Sure as hell he should hear them from one of many open doors, he should smell the rich appetisers resting on the long table, he should get a damned invitation to take part! Just as he got one every year, one that was laced with his mother’s threats. If you don’t come I will kill you. Not this year.

As much as the guards and servants tried to dodge his questions, running away in the halls, hiding in chambers, pretending to be busy, all it took was one, too squeaky, cook’s helper. Katsuki learned the meeting was already being held. His mother sure as hell tried to keep him out of this one.

As he stormed the hallways towards the grand room with the painfully long table he gathered his thoughts. Of course he would burst with his decision - he will be with Cat. Katsuki never before wanted any particular wife, he was never interested in any woman like that. Suddenly, in a matter of a few months, one has given him several reasons to claim her.

Of course it would never be love that would be the thing, the force that pushed him towards someone. Katsuki was not sure whether he even knew what love tasted like. But the thought of taking away one of his mother’s swords excited him as if he was a young boy on his first horse ride. The prince would take the guard, a person so very intimate to his mother, and show her how much better he is. Without the web, the schemes, the grand plans and dirty business, without all this gruesome fakeness she will have the opportunity to be free. And he will savour her freedom as if it was his own. He will hold the decision of her title, he will make her stay a nobody - a sweet, safe and secured nobody.

Together the two of them will rub what best they hold on one another. Her confidence, high held chin and perfect stance, will be the best decoration for his crown, one that she will be in his private chambers - a queen worth her place. Then, Katsuki will grace her with all the time, resources and freedom she will want. Of course as long as she fulfils her duties in the keeping of the lineage, but that is a price she will surely be able to pay. That woman is not stupid.

The golden prince, the golden king will make her pleased and he will spread out a new and better world in front of her - one ruled by lions and cats, not by spiders.

Katsuki will beat Shoto in this game. He will never let the ethereal, thin as air and nonexistent in his own way, take away such a precious gem, one pulsing with life that will surely die out in the cold hands of the Todoroki. He will not let her be taken away from the kingdom she is accustomed to.

Cat will be sharp and nonchalant, lazy and harsh, smiling and teasing all for Katsuki, never for Shoto nor for anyone else.

Was it a pathetic feeling of, once in his life, being phantom close to someone? Was his conqueror nature building up in his veins, ready to overflow any given second? Was it resistance or maybe simply a caprice? With all due respect, Katsuki did not care which he chose to side with, the only thing he was certain as he pushed the door to the meeting room was that he would walk out of here with Cat in hand.

To his utter surprise there were no servants moving around in a mismatched pattern around the room. Wine was scarce as everyone, bunched around the far end of the long table, preferred to keep a sober mind. All the heads darted his way as Katsuki strolled closer to them, hiding his shock at the unusual scene.

“I honestly thought younge prince would be absent today.” King Todoroki laughed shortly, propping both of his elbows on the table, observing Katsuki like a predator.

“How could I miss the council meeting where I announce my bride.”

Despite the king being decision making here, the blonde spoke his words to Shoto. They held a short and intense stare - Katsuki fierce, Shoto not seemingly comprehending.

“And who would that be?” Lord Yaoyorozu peaked from behind the King, his gaze held hope, or rather despair.

“That will be…” For a split second Katsuki looked at his mother. He screamed inside, his ego trashing in the golden cage it was kept hostage. Why from all moments did he have to instinctively look at her? It was his decision, his statement, his milestone and step to take. Why did his gaze wander to her face, and more importantly, why was she nodding? “That will be princess Ochaco.”

Murmurs spread through the small gathering. Someone seemed to pat king Uraraka for he perked up suddenly, whispering prayers.

“That girl is disgraced!” Yaoyorozu seemed too enraged with his defeat, spitting venom on the poor princess. “I want her dignity checked!”

“First of all, her ass is no business of yours, Lord.” As much as he hated himself for this, Katsuki mimicked the manner in which King Todoroki diminished him, piercing the red-faced man with undeniable truth - difference in positions. “Second, I’ve known her for the longest time. That green-haired idiot does not interest me, she can keep him or kill him for all I care. I just want you all off my back and my heir on the way.”

Once again Katsuki mindlessly strayed towards his mother’s gaze. She was eying him intensely, her palms gripping the armrests of her throne. A smirk grazed her sharp features. She threw a quick order at the Yaoyorozu Lord sitting next to her and soon the whole row changed seats, allowing for Katsuki to take place by her side.

“We will play this out just as you wanted.” She whispered when he came close to her and a shiver went up his spine. We, as you wanted. She accepted his compromise. Katsuki came out with a proposition and she heard him, thought it through and let it pass. They were playing on the same side. The prince didn’t know what thrilled him more, the idea of his plan working out or the feeling of having one of the most powerful people next to him, with him for once.

“Very well. Now let’s get back to the matter we were discussing before someone decided it was his turn to speak.” Katsuki remembered, it was the Todoroki King who laughed at his mother hard enough, at the counsil meeting, to make her punish her own son so hard. He started to understand Shoto a bit more - if he had a father like this he would also detach himself from reality.

“Shoto.”

“I ask for the hand of a lady from your kingdom, your highness.” The prince, delicate as a flower, bowed his head slightly, but it quickly sprung up towards the Bakugo Queen. He looked like a kid waiting for a response, whether he can go play outside or not.

“With all due respect, I must decline your offer for now.”

It was the second time this day when the small gathering went rampage with whispers. The men in the room looked around each other in disbelief. The show certainly didn’t go along with the script.

With a hard tug of his father’s hand, Shoto was pushed back into the seat from his standing position. The now disorientated prince looked around the room, at the Queen’s face and finally at Katsuki who was now grinning wide. Something flicked behind his glassy eyes, something like understanding.

“And why is that, your highness?” King Todoroki seemed to send the deadliest looks of them all. At first they were directed at the Queen but soon, he caught Katsuki’s unpleasant smile. “So that’s how you’re playing it out.”

He must have caught the act quickly. The night of Katsuki’s bursting in during the small gathering the four of them held, it gave him out. But it didn’t matter, it had already been decided and no amount of the King’s trashing could override his mother’s words. After all, Cat was a property of the Bakugo’s.

“Bring the girl here.” The King demanded.

“There’s no need for that.”

“If we are to decide on an agreement tonight, the girl will come here. I find it obvious that you suddenly decide to gatekeep a thing that, one way or another, was supposed to connect our kingdoms. I want to, at least, hear the girl say it. I want her to pick!” This time it was the King speaking to Katsuki and not his mother. His nails would surely leave bloody marks with how hard the young prince was digging them into his own palms - all out of excitement. “I want her to come here, look at you, and tell us all she picks you.”

Cold sweat seemed to grow on Katsuki’s skin. One look at his mother and she knew he didn’t talk to the very girl. Yet, he was sure she would pick him over Shoto.

“What is going on, who are you talking about?” King Uraraka seemed as lost as the rest of the people, save for the Bakugos and Todorokis. “Weren’t you just talking about marrying Ochaco, prince?”

“And I will. I will make her my wife and then both of us can go back to our own… picks.”

Finally, the Uraraka king seemed to understand. His gaze lowered slightly as his back plopped against the chair. Despite the rather pitiful look of a man who knew his worthlessness, he did not oppose a single word. Maybe he knew what Katsuki was offering was honestly the best option for his daughter. Even though their royal family would most likely be a mixture of green, blonde and god knows what else.

“Fine. Go get the girl.”

A few long minutes passed in silence. The only sound in the room was the cracking of wood in the big fireplace. The air seemed to buzz with anticipation and unease. No one dared to look at each other. No one except for Katsuki drilling holes in Shoto’s mismatched head.

When the doors opened to reveal Cat all faced her way. She stood by the large, wooden wings.

“Come.” The Queen ordered.

Cat looked into the hallway she just came through as if someone would be there. After a second she came closer, with a few long strides, and was now standing with her hands behind a straight back, waiting for more orders. Despite her confident face she was looking upwards.

“Due to a misunderstanding we wish to ask you something.” The Queen turned directly to her guard and Katsuki followed her gaze. Cat was standing just behind his shoulder. If he reached out his hand he could grab her, touch her, signal to her to give the damn right answer to the upcoming question. But she was looking upwards, avoiding even his mother’s gaze, like a good soldier. “Do you wish to attain a title of nobility and be honoured with the possibility of connecting the Bakugos to the Todorokis in a political agreement, or do you wish to stay lowborned and help to elongate the Bakugo lineage.”

Silence fell upon the room as all awaited for an answer, one that could change the political stability of millions of square kilometres. Some feared, some sought possibilities, others clenched their jaws or bore their eyes into the guard, standing alone like a single strand of grass in a thunderstorm.

Cat took in a sharp breath and for the first time, she looked down on the Queen. At that moment Katsuki knew his world was about to fall apart once again. She never would and never will talk to him, with him, as he needs it.

Slowly, the woman went lower and lower, bending her knees, her back, her neck. She dropped onto the floor silently which made her voice contrast even more. She spoke with reserve and power.

“If I may beg you, your highnesses, I wish to finish the original plan.” I pick Shoto, I wish to be a nobility, I hate you. Katsuki braced himself for one of these, what other reason would she have for not looking at him as she made her decision? Cat picked her head up from next to her knee and looked straight at the Queen. “I missed four breaks in my service.”

The Queen gasped. It was short and unexpected, only for Katsuki and Cat to see. She blinked a few times as if trying to get rid of the shock from her features before she faced the other way, back to the awaiting group.

“Enji, I think we might have overdone ourselves this time.” Both Todorokis turned abruptly towards the Queen. Shoto was shell shocked from hearing his fathers name fall out of the queen's lips. The King looked stunned as his son.

“The original plan.” He muttered.

“What the fuck is the original plan? What break in service?” Katsuki cried out like a madman for truthly, he felt mad. Plans in plans in plans.

“Everyone out!” The Queen rising to her feet was all that it took for the rest of the men to usher out of the room. All they did was look back behind the shoulders and whisper. Weak.

It was only the five of them left and the room felt like a gruesome overkill. Without much comprehension Katsuki switched between looking at his mother and Cat, both of whom didn't spare him a single glance since the enigmatic words. King Todoroki was still seated in his original place, with his face in his palms, calculating something meticulously in his head. Shoto looked as disorientated as he was at the beginning, failing to grasp even a strand of understanding in this strange situation. Now, he opted to look at his father’s cheek, awaiting an explanation.

“What is the original plan?” Katsuki hated the need to repeat himself.

“The original plan can come in, I think.” The Queen sighed, gulping down wine that she greedily clawed at the moment she sat back in her spacious throne. Soon, she repeated the same but this time she was shouting.

The doors began to open slowly, as if someone was testing the waters before jumping into the whirlpool before him. A crimson wing was first to enter, then a halo of golden hair and strange marked eyes that quickly fished out his target in the group. Hawks came to a stop just behind his king, mimicking the way in which Cat was holding herself.

“Did the two of you… proceed with the plan?” Enji Todoroki broke the silence first.

“Yes, my king.” Hawks answered for them both.

“When?”

“First thing when we came here, around four months ago.” Hawks looked somewhere far, into a memory maybe, one that was not brought back to life, wrestled out of the nooks and crannies of his privacy. “We did not expect… such obstacles.”

“Because there shouldn’t have been any obstacles in the first place.” The Queen was looking down, on the table, her eyes darkened. “We got caught up in our sons’ stupid games, Enji.” The king's name felt oddly at home on her tongue. The third person she used, how she removed both of the princes from the conversation. Thai was not meant for their ears, they were only unlocking this secret because someone, by mistake, pushed the keys into their hands in a hurry. They stood in the right place at the right time.

“Then we shall proceed with the plan.” The Todoroki King finally looked up and turned towards Hawks. His ever-scolding gaze felt light right now, like he was testing something, looking for a sign on his guard's face.

“I will ask for the last time…” Katsuki desperately tried to earn some attention, to finally know what the whole farce was about.

“What you will do is shut up and listen, for I will only tell it once.” His mother’s words were sharp but her gaze was apologising when she looked at him. As if she was silently trying to tell him, I’m sorry. And Katsuki will understand her, because in the end even she was stripped down from the possibility of choosing who really dealt the cards.

“The original plan, one that has been going on for years now, was to breed, create two strong people - a man and a woman. Many were tested, many like the ones that consist of my or the King’s personal guards.” Katsuki knew who she meant, not the regular soldiers but the ones like Cat and Hound. “When we found two that would perfectly match each other we were supposed to title them nobility and marry them together to produce even better offspring. Children that would join the two kingdoms with a tie so strong that no one would have the guts to attack and expose oneself to the power.”

“And these people are…” Shoto finally mustered the strength to mutter.

“At this point there is no denying that the plan will succeed. There is no chance Shoto will have Cat and neither can Katsuki. Both of you could ruin the royal lineage if your supposed firstborn came out with red wings.”

From the very beginning, from the moment Katsuki wandered his mother’s garden at night and found Cat shuffling around the bush, she already weaved her web. They already weaved their web. The business she had to take care of at free days, the hickeys he found under her collar, around her breast, maybe even further. The fat owl who sat that night on the windowsill. It was him, him all along, everywhere behind her, inside her, with her.

Her strange pupils that now, finally, found a place in Katsuki’s mind. A cat, elongated and extremely sensitive to light and relaxation. Maybe she didn’t have such grand evidence of her animal nature like Hawks but sure as hell she acted on her instincts.

“We need to arrange the wedding quickly or else you will miraculously bear a child in three months.” The Queen sighed.

“Best to do it next week, as an opening of the season.” The King answered.

Katsuki lacked the willpower to fight anymore. How could he win her over when he already lost at the beginning. Soon, he will have a seat in the first row to see Cat take the hand of a different man. In a matter of months he will be able to look at the fruit of their… what was it between them? Nature, instincts, orders, loyalty or love? Maybe he would ask her. Maybe she will tell him what’s it like?

As Katsuki looked at Cat, she was already gazing into him, through him. For the first time since he met her she looked taken aback. Her plan worked and all that will have to settle into her brain. Apart from the trouble on her face there was also regret, her eyes spoke a silent apology. Not for Shoto, not for the Queen but for him. She used everyone she could. From the moment she realised Katsuki was after her, she led him to inappropriate actions and ran off to Shoto. Then, the half and half also started to pose as an obstacle, like he always does. But somehow, in this enormous whirlwind of schemes and lies, they found the way to each other.

What else could push people to do things that crazy if not love? And when she could finally face him, face Hawks, Katsuki saw one of the most beautiful smiles he would ever experience in his life. And as the two could finally close into an embrace, Hawks ever so attentive of her abdomen, and seal their feelings with a kiss, Katsuki couldn't look away, no matter how hard he tried.

Thank you so much for reading! I'm thinking about a small continuation of how Katsuki's and everyone's life is after the wedding, but that's a matter for another day.

[billspotts]

State of Terror: Life After Venezuela’s Electoral Uprising

In a voice message to the ruling party leadership, Maduro summoned PSUV militants and his remaining supporters to defend his rule: “Coordinate with National Police (PNB) and Guard (GNB) to restore order,” he commanded. “We have to grab this by the head. Act immediately. Every little fire that starts must be extinguished.”

On the morning of July 29th, while the Comando por Venezuela celebrated a de facto triumph of more than 30 points over Maduro—after processing 73% of the voting tallies—demonstrators returned home under the watchful eyes and cannons of colectivos and security forces.

On July 28, Venezuela’s government—perhaps dazzled by its own misreading of the situation—became exposed to electoral reality. The barrio, emerging as a new agent of change, slapped chavismo in the face, forcing it to embrace the only version of sovereignty Maduro understands: the power to dictate who lives, who dies, and who goes to jail, echoing the words of Cameroonian social theorist Achille Mbembe.

In a context where hundreds of thousands of people volunteered to defeat Maduro at the polls and then protect the evidence of their collective will, the brute force unleashed since July 29 seeks to destroy the spirit and hunger for change that Machado’s campaign activated.

As Chávez statues were toppled and Maduro posters torn down, the government, from its trenches in Miraflores and Fuerte Tiuna, tried to convince international mediators that Amoroso’s announced result wasn’t up for discussion. At the same time, it turned on all engines of its war machine, including an overblown rhetoric that doesn’t even pretend to be logical. Maduro, Diosdado Cabello, and Jorge Rodríguez have labeled those who oppose them—from local politicians to foreign governments, even on the left—as Nazis or fascists, describing demonstrators as drugged criminals from the U.S. and cells from the international criminal organization Tren de Aragua.

A week after the election, human rights NGO Foro Penal confirmed 1,102 arrests, with 170 of them in Caracas. Monitor de Víctimas reported 23 murders so far, with colectivos responsible for at least 9, operating in total sync with State security officers.

Like paramilitary forces fighting a hybrid war, colectivos work as PSUV’s fist in the areas where the chavista State holds more economic and social power over a population now turning its back on them. Their priority is to defend their government sponsors at gunpoint.

The offensive reached the doors of those who took to the streets the Monday after the presidential election. A video from that day shows a man on a bike recording himself while chasing demonstrators, saying to the camera: “Here we are, prepared to defend peace and our principles. We want peace, but we are prepared for war. In Venezuela, it was our president Nicolás Maduro who won. Guarimberos (a slur for protesters) ran to hide in their homes. From now on, we take over the streets that have always belonged to us, not to oligarchs!”

Communal councils and what’s left of the Hugo Chávez Battle Units—PSUV grassroots structures forming a sort of parallel chavista State—have been ordered to identify, locate, and point out anyone who called out the election fraud in different communities.

Under this war logic, anyone who poses a threat to those in power becomes a target for colectivos and security forces: demonstrators hiding in safe houses, people who showed their voting tallies or denounced the fraud on social media, and community leaders and members of comanditos who promoted participation and defended votes for Edmundo González.

On Tuesday the 30th, in the densely populated (and formerly very chavista) 23 de Enero area, PNB detained four boys—three of them teenagers—who were banging pots on the eighth floor of a building. Caracas Chronicles obtained voice notes sent by leaders in communal councils in Distrito Capital. In one of them, a woman hoped that someone would “shoot escuálidos (classic chavista hate speech for opposition folk)” to get them in line “while Maduro decides to call the army. At least I saw colectivos giving them hell. If they catch anyone, they will make a pulp out of him… and they are hiding between our buildings.”

A WhatsApp chain message shared with neighbors in San José, in downtown Caracas, read: “We call on mothers, families: advise your kids and don’t help the Right. After all this, the opposition leaders wash their hands and continue their trips and lavish lifestyles while our young people fall under the weight of law and order. We can’t cry after that happens. Women, defend your households and protect them from destabilizing plans.”

Caracas Chronicles reached out to one activist who organized volunteers in Western Caracas on July 28, who has since gone into hiding along with about eleven colleagues. Colectivos started hunting for her the minute after the opposition rejected Amoroso’s results. From her hiding place, the woman sent videos showing how CICPC and DAET patrols have assisted colectivos in taking over the barrios.

DAET, which replaced the infamous FAES death squads, highlights the scope of Maduro’s policy against the poor, which has progressively mutilated human rights and living conditions for those with the least. Meanwhile, the regime sustains an oppressive minority of party militants, colectivos, CLAP clerks, police officers, and intelligence personnel with privileged access to institutional networks and State resources.

According to psychologist Andrés Antillano, these inequalities within low-income groups generate fear, distrust, and resentment in the barrio—where chavista groups impose the status quo by marking enemies and controlling those who criticize the government.

A noticeable pattern in this repressive wave has been the indiscriminate attacks on teens and young people who have known no other president than Maduro.

Last week, late at night, the DGCIM posted a reel on their Instagram account announcing their new “campaign” and security operation, “Operación Tun Tun,” with the hashtag #sinllorader (#nowhining). In the background, a song played: “Children take care! Please be aware. All that you’ve done will come to bear!”

“Operación Tun Tun,” which translates to Operation Knock-Knock, isn’t new. Diosdado Cabello first announced it on his TV show “El Mazo Dando” in 2017, during three months of Venezuelan protests, to target people he considered “terrorists.” This time, the DGCIM, along with other police forces like the CICPC, led by Douglas Rico, not only released this video with its intimidating song but also shared images with WhatsApp and Signal phone numbers, urging people to report anyone allegedly involved in a “physical or virtual hate campaign through social media.”

This operation targets everyone who worked on election day as witnesses or as part of a “comandito” (the opposition grassroots group involved in collecting voting records), those who protested, and even people posting on social media in support of González Urrutia, Machado, or anyone expressing disagreement with chavismo.

On Saturday night, Cabello showcased various Venezuelans detained under “Operación Tun Tun” across the country on his TV show, using the hashtag #PeaceHasArrived.

Other security forces, like the Táchira Police, published “wanted” notices with pictures of young men, labeling them “leader guarimberos.” Even before the elections, Nicolás Maduro had warned that there would be a “bloodbath and fratricidal civil war caused by the fascists” if he didn’t win on July 28.

In addition to raiding homes, various security forces, including DAET, PNB, GNB, and local police, have set up checkpoints in different Venezuelan cities to seize and inspect mobile phones.

The surveillance, targeting, and persecution of citizens extend to other social media platforms like Telegram. Public figures and activists have reported the existence of various Telegram channels created to post pictures of people involved in election day activities or peaceful demonstrations. Some of these channels, like “Caza Guarimbas” or “Controla las Guarimbas,” were shut down by the platform after being reported for promoting violence.

In these channels, users could see messages like “Edmundo is a killer” or pictures of young individuals accused of being responsible for hate crimes (as defined in Maduro’s Hate Law).

This manhunt has created a new environment in the country. People are deleting WhatsApp chats, activating disappearing messages, and sending important information to relatives abroad so they can spread the word about what’s happening inside the country. Some have had to leave their homes and find places to hide.

The situation has also changed how people gather in the streets. For example, during María Corina Machado’s demonstration last Saturday, journalists refrained from recording participants’ faces. Even Machado, who had recently expressed fear for her life in The Wall Street Journal, appeared in public covered with a hood before climbing onto a bus.

Understanding that loneliness and despair are fertile ground for totalitarianism, Maduro and his elite are trying to break the connections people have built, isolating citizens once again from the democratic cause—even more so those who directly promoted and defended the vote in the presidential election.

How can we fight this? If terror seeks to deny what happened at polling stations on July 28th and the intrinsic political condition of voters, the first step is to raise the voice of truth, convinced that, no matter the violence that followed, on that day, Venezuelans spoke with resounding clarity.

Secondly, being strong and resilient doesn’t only mean protesting in the streets. To remain active in defending the true results, we must protect ourselves, stay alert, and manage our energies carefully.

For those who risked their lives in the last several weeks and months of campaigning, protection from state terror means moving between hiding places and waiting for an embassy in Caracas to process dozens of refugee requests.

For others, staying in the streets protesting to the very end is just impossible. “Now, the end of this is in God’s hands,” said Richard, who volunteered on the 28th and went out to demonstrate in Catia the next day. “I’ve been running around on my bike and saw things are getting quiet again. We already took a huge step.”

[book--brackets]

The Chronicles of Faerie by O. R. Melling (1993-2003)

American Gwen and her Irish cousin, Findabhair, have long planned a summer of backpacking around Ireland, visiting sites out of the old legends of fairy folk. Little do they know that it is the summer of the Hunter's Moon, a dangerous time for mortals who meddle with the kingdom of Faerie. One night, camping out on old ruins, Finn is kidnapped by the Faerie king, who wants her for a bride and possible sacrifice. It is up to Gwen, the more indecisive of the two, to rescue her cousin.

The Farsala Trilogy by Hilari Bell (2003-2006)

Stories are told of a hero who will come to Farsala's aid when the need is greatest. But for thousands of years the prosperous land of Farsala has felt no such need, as it has enjoyed the peace that comes from being both feared and respected.

Now a new enemy approaches Farsala's borders, one that neither fears nor respects its name and legend. But the rulers of Farsala still believe that they can beat any opponent.

Three young people are less sure of Farsala's invincibility. Jiaan, Soraya, and Kavi see Time's Wheel turning, with Farsala headed toward the Flames of Destruction. What they cannot see is how inextricably their lives are linked to Farsala's fate -- until it's too late.

Everworld by K. A. Applegate (1999-2001)

David’s life was pretty normal. School. Friends. Girlfriend. Actually, Senna was probably the oddest aspect of his life. She was beautiful. Smart. But there was something very different about her. Something strange.

And on the day it began, everything happened so quickly. One moment, Senna was with him. The next, she was swallowed up by the earth, her screams echoing from far, far away. David couldn’t just let her go. Neither could the others. His friends—and hers. So, they followed. And found themselves in a world they could have never imagined. 

Now they have to find Senna and get home without losing their lives. Or their minds. Or both…

The Wizard Knight by Gene Wolfe (2004)

A young man in his teens is transported from our world to a magical realm that contains seven levels of reality. Very quickly transformed by magic into a grown man of heroic proportions, he takes the name Able and sets out on a quest to find the sword that has been promised to him, a sword he will get from a dragon, the one very special blade that will help him fulfill his life ambition to become a knight and a true hero.

Inside, however, Able remains a boy, and he must grow in every sense to survive the dangers and delights that lie ahead in encounters with giants, elves, wizards, and dragons.

Star Wars: Jedi Apprentice by Dave Wolverton and Jude Watson (1999-2002)

Twelve-year-old Obi-Wan Kenobi desperately wants to be a Jedi Knight. After years at the Jedi Temple, he knows the power of the lightsaber and the Force. But he cannot control his own anger and fear. Because of this, the Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn will not take him on as a Padawan apprentice.

Now Obi-Wan is about to have his first encounter with true evil. He must face off against unexpected enemies--and face up to his own dark wishes.

Only then can his education as a Jedi truly begin.

Skylark by Meagan Spooner (2012-2014)

For fifteen years, Lark Ainsley waited for the day when her Resource would be harvested and she would finally be an adult. After the harvest she expected a small role in the regular, orderly operation of the City within the Wall. She expected to do her part to maintain the refuge for the last survivors of the Wars. She expected to be a tiny cog in the larger clockwork of the city.     Lark did not expect to become the City's power supply.     For fifteen years, Lark Ainsley believed in a lie. Now she must escape the only world she's ever known...or face a fate more unimaginable than death.

Westmark by Lloyd Alexander (1981-1984)

When Theo agrees to print a traveling showman's pamphlet, he only thinks of the money it will bring in. Instead, it sets off a chain reaction that results in the smashing of the press and the murder of his master. Caught on the wrong side of the law, Theo must flee the city. Soon, he has teamed up with the traveling showman Count Las Bombas (who is actually a con artist) and his servant. The trio is soon joined by Mickle, a clever, strong-willed girl with a mysterious past. Performing feats that astound and amaze, the motley crew falls into a trap set by Chief Minister Cabbarus, who is determined to wrest power from the grief-stricken king. Now they must not only save themselves-they must save the kingdom...

The Goblin Wood by Hilari Bell (2003-2011)

One terrible day, Makenna, a young hedgewitch, witnesses her mother's murder at the hands of their own neighbors. Stricken with grief and rage, Makenna flees the village that has been her home. In the wilds of the forest, she forms an unexpected alliance. Leading an army of clever goblins, Makenna skillfully attacks the humans, now their shared enemy.

What she doesn't realize is that the ruling Hierarchy is determined to rid the land of all magical creatures, and they believe Makenna is their ultimate threat - so they have sent a young knight named Tobin into the Goblin Wood to entrap her.

In this captivating fantasy adventure, the difference between Bright and Dark magic is as deceptive as our memories, hopes, and fears -- and the light of loyalty and friendship has a magic all of its own.

A young hedgewitch, an idealistic knight, and an army of clever goblins fight against the ruling hierarchy that is trying to rid the land of all magical creatures.

Hexwood by Diana Wynne Jones (1993)

When Controller Borasus receives a strange letter from Earth he is both curious and alarmed. Someone has activated an ancient machine and is using it for most trivial purposes. Surely no one would dare to tamper with Reigner seals in this way? Yet the effects of such interference resonate throughout the universe, so he decides to go to Hexwood Farm to investigate…

On Hexwood Estate, Ann watches the mysterious comings and goings with interest. She knows something deadly is going on – or is Hexwood simply altering her too?

Guides for Dating Vampires by D. N. Bryn (2022-present)

Vincent Barnes has suffered four years as a vampire, and they’ve been the most miserable years of his pathetic life. Too poor for black market blood, he feeds from sleeping humans to survive. He tries to never intrude on the same prey twice, but after a single delicious taste of a long-lost childhood neighbor, he can’t help returning for seconds.

Wesley Garcia has been waking up with fang marks. Lucky for him, he needs a vampire—to use as bait. He’s certain Vitalis-Barron Pharmaceutical killed his mother, but to gain access to their covert research labs, he has to bring them a bloodsucker for their experiments. 

Step one, a dramatic offer: Stay, and you can bite me. 

Vincent leaps at the chance to gobble Wesley up.

Wes’s plan is perfect. He’ll befriend the vampire, then trick him into coming to the lab. No fighting, no fuss. But Vincent is more than Wesley has bargained for: sweet and shy, with intoxicating fangs that awaken new desires in Wes. As the two bond, Vincent believes he might have finally found someone worth putting his trust in... and Wes fears neither of them will survive the betrayal he has planned.

[veliseraptor]

Fic Authors Self Rec

I was tagged by @kasasagi-eye to self-rec five fics which is always. a fun challenge in a few different ways. but good practice I think! and I did go through and make an Author's Favorites series for myself a while ago, which made this easier!

tried to do a bit of a spread of fandoms/time for funsies

Elegy, or Twelve Scenes About One Thing (The Silmarillion).

An old one! But I'm still pretty pleased with it. It's a style I don't write in as much anymore as I used to, but rereading it reminded me why I liked writing it to begin with. Just an impressionistic set of vignettes about Finrod and Curufin in Nargothrond; good old-fashioned cousin incest for a pairing I haven't written in a long time but am still deeply fond of.

Curufin’s hands had a smith’s calluses. It was the strangest thing, to feel how they caught on smooth skin, or on scars as Curufin passed his hands over Finrod’s bare chest. As though he were a piece of metal or gemstone to be coaxed into revealing its secrets. Finrod wondered what he found. “You fascinate me,” Curufin said, suddenly. Finrod blinked at what might have been an echo of his own thoughts. “Beg pardon?” “You fascinate me,” Curufin repeated. “You are…a rare thing.” His fingers paused, and tapped just above Finrod’s navel. “For all I watch you, I am unable to guess your mind.” “I am no great mystery,” said Finrod. Curufin shook his head. “Ah,” he said, “But perhaps that, there, is your mystery.” He smiled, eyes almost glittering, and lowered his head to drag his teeth along the curve of Finrod’s shoulder. “Still waters, they say.” Ran deep, Finrod thought, and untroubled. He did not feel untroubled. If he was still water, then there was a turbulence in his depths. A whirlpool spiraling toward the surface.

post war blues (Wheel of Time)

This is one of my favorite fics even though it's written for an audience of maybe five if I'm generous. I had a lot of fun with it. Min/Elan post-canon, sort of, with a background side of Rand/Elan and Rand/Elan/Min in the future if I kept writing this AU.

“You promised me higher praise,” Elan said, something arch in his voice. Min laughed. “All right,” she said. “I like you. When you’re not thinking about it, you’re a fairly decent person, at least now. You’re smart; I like smart people. And you have good cheekbones.” Elan stared at her, and she shrugged. “A girl can’t help but notice.” “Cheekbones,” Elan said, sounding incredulous. “That’s what you’re stuck on?” Min said. “I thought the ‘decent person’ would get to you more.”

gather frankincense (Lymond Chronicles)

Had to put this one on here mostly because I was proud of myself for writing Lymond fic complete with a satisfying number of references in it, but also because I love this fucked up pairing (Lymond/Gabriel) so much.

“Am I meant to ask what desires I need to concern myself with?” Lymond asked, voice still light; not precisely indifferent, but not much affected either. “The rest,” Gabriel said, and gestured at Lymond’s untouched glass. “Drink, be merry. You’ve already ruined yourself with opium. Surely a glass of wine is not too much an indulgence.” “I am not in the mood for indulgence. Is there a purpose to this pageantry, o my Pasha?” “Save that it is my pleasure?” Gabriel regarded him with a touch of amusement. “You would rather I tied you to a whipping post and had you flogged?” “You would gain marks for consistency,” Lymond said.

like a trigger (get me ready to shoot) (Kinnporsche)

This is, like, an embarrassingly personal fic in some ways which is probably also why it's important to me. I have strong feelings about Vegas and sadism and it was fun to explore them here and write a bit of a character study through that lens.

He stopped trying to make it last. There was always work, where he could hurt people so much worse and it didn’t matter, there was no reason to hold back and nobody who looked at him like some kind of monster, except for the people he wanted to. His dad gave him a man and said punish him and Vegas could, would, did. It was never quite enough. Somehow he was always coming up short when it mattered. A step below, a step behind. His father’s impatience and anger and frustration, always quick to remind Vegas of his inadequacies. At least when it was just him and his tools and a body meant to suffer, he knew what he was doing. He knew how to get what he wanted, and did. He liked to hurt people. He was good at hurting people. There might be something wrong with him but at least he was in the right line of work for it.

That Unwanted Animal (The Untamed/MDZS)

A fic for this fandom I don't talk about so much, written for an exchange a few years ago. Modern AU, which is a funny thing that I don't usually write except in a few very special cases, and this is a modern AU that I'm actually pretty proud of the execution on, mostly because the messiness of it and the construction of the relationships is one that I remain happy with even on reread (far from a guarantee). The side Jin Guangyao and Xue Yang dynamic is one of my favorite things about this one, funnily enough.

So the thing was that Xue Yang knew that this shit was too good to last. It was like some kind of fairytale, wasn’t it? Cinderella, or something. Go to a ball, meet a handsome prince, get swept off your feet. Plucked out of your shitty life and dropped into someone else’s. If Cinderella was a psychotic headcase and the prince was two stupidly handsome men who apparently had a thing for that, one too nice for his own good and the other one too head over heels for the first one to tell him no.

I tag @curiosity-killed, @lu-sn, @ameliarating, @brawlite, and @highladyluck.

[alinawritess]

𝐓𝐨𝐫𝐧 𝐁𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐓𝐰𝐨 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝𝐬 ✩

❀ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠. Vinnie Hacker x fem!reader x Reggie Hacker

❀ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬. Seattle's buzzing streets set the stage for "Torn Between Two Worlds," chronicling your childhood with the lively Hacker brothers. You arrived from a war-torn country, taken in by your grandparents in this new land. While your folks, busy with their jobs, pushed for top grades, the Hackers were all about "just do your best." Reggie, warm and welcoming, became your best friend, but Vinnie, was always trying to get on nerves, rubbing you in the wrong way since the very start. As you all grew up, things got complex. Summer hit, and secrets spilled out, shaking up your feelings for Vinnie and your bond with Reggie. Settle down for a whirlwind of emotions with the Hackers, Seattle, and your own heart on the line.

❀ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭. no clue yet

❀ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬). Emotional Turmoil ┆︎ Family Dynamics (Immigrant Experience, Distant Parents) ┆︎ Themes of Cultural Adjustment and Displacement ┆︎ Childhood Trauma (War-torn Country Background) ┆︎ Pranks and Initial Conflict Between Characters ┆︎ Complex Relationships (Friendship, Crushes, Love Triangle) ┆︎ Emotional Distress and Insecurities ┆︎ Themes of Personal Growth and Identity ┆︎ Potential for Intense Emotional Scenes and Confrontations┆︎ No Use of Y/N.

❀ 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞. I haven't finished the last series yet, but here's an idea that's been lingering in my mind. I'm not sure where it came from, but this concept won't leave me alone. If you enjoyed "The Summer I Turned Pretty," you might like this too. I've only just started writing it, so I hope you enjoy it (and I might make some edits of this later on).

╴╴╴╴╴⊹ꮺ˚ ╴╴╴╴╴⊹˚ ╴╴╴╴˚ೃ ╴╴╴╴╴

𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞

You had known the Hacker brothers throughout your entire childhood, each year binding you closer to their vibrant world. Three years younger than Vinnie and a year younger than Reggie, you were introduced to them at the tender age of five, shortly after your parents relocated to Seattle, WA for their careers. The move forcibly severed your ties with the only country you had ever known—a place untouched by the concept of America, where the echoes of bombings and mini-wars were the grim lullabies of your youth. In this foreign land, your grandparents had been your steadfast anchors, and leaving them behind felt like abandoning your true family.

With little say in the matter, you were uprooted to a new country and into the orbit of parents who, despite their noble professions as a pediatric surgeon and a paramedic, were often absent from your daily life. Their ambitions were high, demanding nothing short of top grades while the Hacker family next door embraced a more laid-back mantra of "do your best." Despite your academic excellence, accolades were sparse from your parents, who deemed your achievements merely average.

The day you met the Hacker brothers remains etched in memory, a moment teetering between intrigue and irritation. Vinnie, mischievous and quick-witted, greeted you with a prank—a feigned handshake that left you bewildered and slightly affronted, raised under the strict tutelage of your grandparents' prim and proper etiquette. In stark contrast, Reggie exuded warmth, his genuine smile and friendly handshake signaling the dawn of a friendship that would anchor your early years.

As time passed, you and Reggie became inseparable, forging a bond that weathered childhood adventures and adolescent trials. Yet, Vinnie remained an enigma—a constant source of friction and bemusement. His charisma and looks held no sway over your steadfast disapproval, convinced that nothing could alter your stance.

But the fateful turn of a single summer altered the trajectory of your relationships. A pivotal event reshaped your perception of Vinnie, challenging your deep-seated reservations. It cast a shadow over your once-unwavering friendship with Reggie, stirring emotions that had long lain dormant. As you navigate this tumultuous juncture, the lines between friendship, loyalty, and love blur, revealing layers of complexity and unexpected truths that redefine your understanding of the Hacker brothers and your place in their world.

╴╴╴╴╴⊹ꮺ˚ ╴╴╴╴╴⊹˚ ╴╴╴╴˚ೃ ╴╴╴╴╴

[phantomchick]

✩ WEEKLY FIC ROUND-UP ✩

Naruto

Hear the silence by EmptySurface the self insert fic that got me to start giving other SI fic a chance, continues to be great

the name of the game by a_sassin Follows the story of a civilian shogi player in the Naruto world and all the shinobi trouble she gets dragged into.

If You Give Me A Sword by TakaGang Ichigo (from Bleach) is the firstborn of the Uchiha mainhouse and Itachi is relegated to middle child.

Senju Of Wave by TheBeardedOne Naruto raised by Tsunade au

With Friends Like These by RecklessWriter sasuke time travel fix it

BNHA (can't believe the manga's ending in 5 chapters? Time flies)

The Democratic Republic of One for All by featherlessquill (CinnamonScribbles) All Might tells Izuku he can't be a hero, the echoes of One For All vote and decide they think he can and give Izuku the quirk

Harry Potter (disclaimer: I'm not a terf/transphobe fuck jkr)

Encounters of the Future Sort by CalmlyErratic The fifth marauders + Lily and Snape travel forward in time to Harry's fifth year. Chaos and angst ensues.

Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Snake by gonzoclock James and Lily baby trap Voldemort without his knowledge, Harry is Lily and Tom's bio son.

Fascist ideology in the Harry Potter Fandom. [Or, for real everyone, we are in the middle of a global rise in fascism please *think* about the things you're reading and the ideas they're platforming.] by skeli666 excellent meta is excellent

Star Wars

Biting His Own Tale by ADragonsFriend Anakin time travels, this does not make stopping Palpatine's plans magically simpler. Cathartic for those who wanted Darth Vader to actually do the work to atone after Luke redeemed him and for those who find prequel fix its unrealistically easy with just knowledge of Palp's identity/the clone chips sometimes.

Batman

Wings over Gotham by icarus_chained platonic abo my beloved, divergent from no man's land on, one of my favourite series

straight back by TheResurrectionist That oliver gets mad at batman on his friend bruce wayne's behalf fic. If you follow my tumblr you've already seen me reccing this but still can't leave it out

let the light in by TheResurrectionist that other great platonic ollie & bruce fic

Chronicles of Narnia the seas of all i knew by softtooth_jpeg edmund/caspian, I love the way this fic goes into Edmund's psychology and why he acts the way he does at the start of the lion, the witch and the wardrobe, top tier writing

Four Thrones by shinealightonme A short but great fic that shows the Pevensie's transition from the end of the lion, the witch and the wardrobe to kings and queens.

A:TLA

Waiting on that morning sun by DustOnDaydreams

“To the Generals, Admirals, Officers, Soldiers and Sailors of the Fire Nation, Halt your advance. Pull back to your nearest military stronghold, and await further orders. Do not engage any forces unless absolutely necessary for your own defence. Put out any fires you come across. Sign it only with the full list of the Fire Lord's titles." “Your Majesty, do you not want to put your name to the missive?” A young pimpled scribe squeaked out to the shocked silence. “No. I want them to obey the order.” Or Zuko's transition from child soldier to young monarch in charge of a corrupted nation

MARVEL

(Un)Fortunate Circumstances by lomku au where Tony and Steve meet differently

Or how Steve wakes up from the ice in the SHIELD facility, runs into Tony, and kind of kidnaps him in his bid for freedom.

Even the Score by Sineala for phoenixmetaphor stony oneshot, Tony high in the hospital panics and attacks Steve. Super good.

Sucker Punch by Sineala Angst. Angst. Angst. Oneshot. Steve never quite warms to Tony Stark, Avengers benefactor. The Molecule Man never strips Iron Man out of his armor. Life goes on for the Avengers, but as disagreements split the team -- and Shellhead and Winghead -- again and again, Steve wonders why Iron Man always picks Tony over him. And when Steve finds out, it happens in the worst way possible. Captain America was a good man by ElnaK inspired by Sineala's work this is Tony's side of the fic, "Sucker Punch". IT'S SO GOOD BUT PREPARE FOR ANGST.

yugioh

Legally Insane by Xparrot continues to be my fave yugioh fic

Percy Jackson

ATLOP: Trial by Fire by WardofWinters (QoLife)

Percy was having a normal day at the beach, until he decided to try to waterbend like Katara from his favorite show.

Nothing to make a song about but kings by iwillpassthis

It’s a fortune that Poseidon has a mortal son, because when an ancient curse hits his kingdom and all the sea gods disappear… well, someone must rule.

Original work

The Gift of Perfect Knowledge by BookmarkBookworm

[oliolioxenfreewrites]

SEVEN SENTENCE SUNDAY

Thank you, @the-golden-comet, for the Seven Sentence Sunday!

last seven sentences i wrote were for the Novaxiom Chronicles. this morning actually, and I'm genuinely surprised i got the ending in precisely seven.

'The evolution of the Sonori humans was a moment of awe as well as a lingering foreboding. Their sonor gifts were meant to bring ambient balance, and most of all unity—instead, taken advantage of and forced to become pawns in a God-like tug-of-war between power and control. Once a guide, Mentis became their greatest adversary, and the Sonori were forced to choose sides in the growing conflict between creation and destruction.

Novaxiom chronicles tell of significantly impactful battles, ancient temples echoing the world's current harmony and dissonance, and a world teetering on the edge of collapse. And yet, within these stories, there is hope. The Sonori, though divided, hold within them the power to heal the rift that Mentis has created. Their journey is far from over, and the echoes of their struggles continue to shape the fate of Novaxiom.'

this is a no-pressure tag and +open tag for anyone who wants to participate. cheers, and happy sunday to all my fellow writing nerds!

~ @drchenquill @illarian-rambling @kaylinalexanderbooks @leahpardo-pa-potato @slenders1ckn3ss @storyteller-kara ~

[honeybewrites]

Proud of Tag

Wow I got a writers tag?!?! Thanks @kaylinalexanderbooks for the tag!!!! I got a little too excited to see that notification haha

Rules: post an excerpt you are proud of

Soooo I've never actually shared any of my writing. A spent a tad too long looking through my writings over the years. This is one I'm particularly pleased with, mostly because I finally nailed down (vaguely, this is still a first draft) how I want two characters to meet. So enjoy!!

P.S. I tried to get everything I could think of with the CW's, but if I missed something or another label would be better, please message me so I get it changed!

CW: condition, referenced physical abuse/torture, referenced blood and injury, referenced temporary death and resuscitation

The projections suddenly disappeared, vanishing like ghosts. Taking off the headset, there was no one else in the training cube. She knew better than to think it was a malfunction. No. Her training had been stopped for a reason. Taking off the rest of the gear, she set everything aside, standing and waiting in the center of the small room. Hands clasped behind her back. Staring ahead mutely. Waiting for whoever would deliver her next orders. Two minutes later, she heard Master Gerd's footsteps. Followed by another pair. The steps were heavy, long strides. Highly likely to be another male, though not a Master she was familiar with. The door to the cube opened. Master Gerd walked in, followed by a man. He was tall. Well built. Not as old as Master Gerd, but at least middle aged. Suntanned skin, white and gray shoulder length hair. A goatee completed the look. He didn’t wear the standard Mors black suit, but his clothes were certainly expensive and protective. The intricate knife on his belt and bulging bag with the Mirralian government insignia told her he was a respectable figure. One that was well above herself. But his eyes… they were like brewing storm clouds. Dark, dark gray, with a hint of white lightening when the light hit them right. Only there was no ferocity in them. They were gentle. Like soft rain in early spring. It was odd, to see that gentleness in a man’s eyes. What was more strange, was the fact he smiled upon entering the room. One that reached his eyes. Perhaps there was something wrong with him. What man would smile upon seeing her? Other than a perverted one she was tasked with seducing. Though his smile didn’t look like a perverted one. “She’s efficient. Loyal. Well trained and obedient. She won’t be near as difficult as your last Asset,” Master Gerd said to the man before turning to her. “Due to your increased injuries and… questionable mission tactics, you are being assigned a field handler.” She had become more careless in her missions. Leaving more messes and bodies behind. Coming back bloodier each time. Master Gerd had been growing more frustrated with it. Especially over her lack of tidiness. He’d said as much. Repeatedly. He couldn’t punish her directly for it, since she completed her missions effectively, but that hadn’t stopped him from finding other things to punish her for. The message was still clear. The momentary death and reviving needed after her last mission must have been the final straw. Though assigning her a field handler seemed a bit… unorthodox. She had grown more messy, true, but her completion rate had skyrocketed. She was completing missions normally reserved for squads or duos, alone, well under the allowed timeframe. Especially compared to before… no. Those weren’t things she should be thinking about. It wasn’t her place to question orders. She was trained to follow them. Nothing more. "This is Master Ronan Airvix. you will treat him with proper respect and you will obey his orders, just as you do mine. If I hear of disobedience, there will be serious consequences, is that understood?" "Yes sir," she said listlessly. "You've been assigned another mission. Debrief and objective has been sent to your comm. Airvix will be accompanying you. You leave tomorrow morning." "Yes sir." He turned back to Master Airvix, waving a hand in her direction. “Do what you will with her until then. She’ll comply. Though try not to do too much damage to her before departure.” “Her file has been sent to you. If you have further questions you may ask Healer Asurr, myself, or her if you wish. Though she likely won’t know the answers you want. She’ll need three hours before departure to prepare her gear and stop in Physical for her pre-check.” "Right, got it." Master Gerd left without another word. The door didn't make a sound as it closed behind him.. Leaving Master Airvix and her alone. She kept her position. Waiting for his instructions.

“I know Gerd introduced me as ‘Master Ronan Airvix’ but you can just call me Rage.” He chuckled a little. Hand rubbing the back of his neck. “Most people do. Nickname I earned myself in healing school. Uh, what else? Oh, I’m Mirralian, certified healer, and uh, I’m blind. Wasn’t born blind, result of an accident, but I’ve learned to live with it. Doesn’t stop me from ‘seeing’ and it’s helpful at times. What about you? What’s your name?” “Asset 703,” she said.  She wasn’t quite sure what to make of his little rambling about himself. Perhaps he just liked to hear himself talk? No. That didn’t seem to fit his personality. It seemed to make him uncomfortable if anything. So why would he bother? "Well yeah, I know your number, but what's your name?" "Asset 703," she repeated. This must be some kind of test. She didn’t have a name. Or at least, she wasn’t supposed to. Her number was all the identification she needed. Master Gerd had punished her many times when he caught her responding to a name.  Her name would never be spoken aloud again. It would remain buried deep in the crevices of her mind. Right next to the memories of them. She would keep those memories safe. Far out of the reach of the Mors. It was the only thing she had left to remember them by.  “Don’t the other Assets call you something else?” He asked. Brow scrunched. Frowning. “I’ve seen them call each other names before.” Many of the Assets did have names for each other. Most of the Masters didn’t mind. Even Master Gerd turned a blind eye to it.  But they were just Assets. She was different. Worse. So much worse. The other Assets didn’t talk to her, nor she them. If she was assigned a mission with them, they avoided her. She returned the favor and kept to herself. She was well aware her presence was unnatural. Disorienting. Unfavorable. There was no need for her to be close with anyone. She had learned her lesson on relationships well. Never again.

Umm, let's see... I'll tag @themboty @ink-enchanted @charlesjosephwrites @minamaybe @halfbakedspuds

[caiusmajor]

Warsmith Kalkator and his Sons of Dorn

The War of the Beast, and the Beast Arises series which chronicles it, feature a lot of imperial politics and a lot of fighting with Orks, so I didn't pay much attention UNTIL a fanart of @magicalduck21's tipped me off to the existence of WARSMITH KALKATOR.

Warsmith Kalkator of the Iron Warriors plays a relatively minor role in the War of the Beast saga -- BUT he has not one but TWO intense relationships with sons of Dorn!

First, Magneric. Kalkator and Magneric were friends pre-heresy! As Kalkator says:

I remember a time when our comradeship was lauded as an example of how our Legions could set aside their differences and find brotherhood. (Throneworld, Chapter 17)

Since the heresy, Magneric has been interred in a Dreadnaught, which is how he's still alive roughly 1500 years later for the War of the Beast. He's also become a Black Templar and is the Marshal of a small crusade called the Kalkator Crusade.

... Because he's very much not over Kalkator and has sworn to track him down and kill him.

But then the War of the Beast happens, and well, there are a LOT of Orks. So in an attempt not to all die to Lots of Orks, Kalkator and Magneric agree to a truce:

‘Wait!’ said Magneric, his voice low and distorted, the aged vox-equipment popping. ‘I reluctantly agree. We will fight side by side, one more time. Hear me, warriors of the Black Templars!’ He rotated from side to side, addressing all his followers. ‘No member of our Chapter is to harm the Iron Warriors until our treaty is sundered. So swear I, Magneric, Marshal of the Kalkator Crusade. Ralstan, command Ericus to aid the Iron Warriors ship. Have him provide me an estimated extraction time.’ Magneric bent down, his sarcophagus slit glowing in the failing light. ‘We will leave this world together, Kalkator, or not at all. Do not think to betray me.’

‘You have my word that I will abide by the terms of our agreement,’ said Kalkator, ‘more for the sake of our old friendship than for anything else. Now come! Bring your warriors into the redoubt. We must make our preparations.’ (Throneworld, Chapter 17)

... and they do that! They fight the Orks together and they are successful in escaping the planet full of orks!

Unfortunately the Orks aren't done with them, and catch up to them in the next book of the Beast Arises, Echoes of the Long War, when they're caught up in a void battle between orks and other sons of Dorn.

Magneric doesn't make it out of the battle alive, alas.

But Kalkator does! And he escapes with a portion of the fleet of a chapter known as the Fists Exemplar, a First Founding Imperial Fists descendant probably invented for the Beast Arises saga.

The commander of this portion of the Fists Exemplar is First Captain Zerberyn. I'm going to make a second post for the adventures of Kalkator and Zerberyn, since this one is already getting long!

[balkanradfem]

Favourite Fictional Women poll: FINAL LIST nominations + RULES (nominations closed)

Books:

Elphaba (Wicked)

Hermione (Harry Potter)

Minerva McGonagall (Harry Potter)

Luna (Harry Potter)

Bellatrix Lestrange (Harry Potter)

Sophie (Howl's Moving Castle)

Bella Swan (Twilight)

Lucy (The Chronicles of Narnia)

Susan (The Chronicles of Narnia)

Katniss Everdeen (The Hunger Games)

Elizabeth Bennet (Pride and Prejudice)

Jo (Little Women)

Alanna (The Song of the Lioness)

Ichigo (Kamikaze Girls)

Momoko (Kamikaze Girls)

Phryne Fisher (Phryne Fisher Detective Novels)

Clarice Starling (Silence of the Lambs)

Robin Ellacott (Cormoran Strike)

Baru Cormorant (The Masquerade Series)

Gideon (The Locked Tomb)

Harrowhark Nonagesimus (The Locked Tomb)

Tattersail (Malazan Book of the Fallen)

Lyra (His Dark Materials)

Lisbeth Salander (The Millenium Trilogy)

Daja Kisubo (Circle of Magic)

Éowyn (Lord of the Rings)

Honor Harrington (Honor Harrington)

Zahrah (Zahrah the Windseeker)

Clair (Outlander)

Margo (The Magicians)

Camille Preaker (Sharp Objects)

Brienne of Tarth (A Song of Ice and Fire)

Cersei (A Song of Ice and Fire)

Daenerys Targaryen (A Song of Ice and Fire)

Arya (A Song of Ice and Fire)

Sansa ( A Song of Ice and Fire)

Rhaenyra Targaryen (Fire and Blood)

Eileen Dunlop (Eileen)

Romy Silvers (The Loneliest Girl in the Universe)

Lúthien (Sillmarilion)

Lady Sotofa (Echo series)

Esme Weatherwax (Discworld)

Angua von Überwald (Discworld)

Susan Sto Helit (Discworld)

Tiffany Aching (Discworld)

Nina Hill (The Bookish Life of Nina Hill)

Keladry (Protector of the Small series)

Shay (Uglies)

Cassie (Animorphs)

The Groke (the Moomins)

Tooticky (the Moomins)

Maximum Ride (Maximum Ride)

Auri (Kingkiller Chronicles)

Anne Shirley (Anne of Green Gables)

Emily Starr (Emily of New Moon)

Penelope (Circe by Madeline Miller)

Rose Hathaway (Vampire Academy)

Katsa (Graceling)

Yennefer of Vengerberg (Witchier)

Dr. Scarlet Clarke (They Never Learn)

Inej Ghafa (Six of Crows)

Ronja (Ronja)

Violet (Asoue)

Medea (Greek Mythology)

Medusa (Greek Mythology)

Jude (Folk of the Air)

Agatha (Girl Genius)

Annabeth Chase (Percy Jackson)

Carrie (Carrie)

Movies

Miss Honey (Matilda)

Matilda (Matilda)

Barbie (Barbie's universe)

Ellen Louise Ripley (Alien)

Evelyn O'Connell (The Mummy)

Peggy Carter (Marvel Cinematic Universe)

Sarah Conner (Terminator)

Cruella de Vil (Cruella)

Yzma (Emperor's New Groove)

Dr. Ellie Sattler (Jurrasic Park)

Harley Quinn (DC universe)

Amy Dunne (Gone Girl)

Jennifer (Jennifer's Body)

Maude Lebowski (Big Lebowski)

Eurodia Holmes (Enola)

Amy Adam (Arrival)

Ginger Fitzgerald (Ginger Snaps)

Mary Mason (American Mary)

Elsa (Frozen)

Mulan (Mulan 1998)

Beatrix Kiddo (Kill Bill)

O-Ren Ishii (Kill Bill)

Trinity (Matrix)

Sidney Prescott (Scream movies)

Dani Ardor (Midsommar)

M3gan (M3gan)

Aila (Rhymes for Young Ghouls)

Princess Kida (Atlantis: The Lost Empire)

Mother Aughra (Dark crystal)

Elizabeth Swan (Pirates of the Carribean)

Marla Grayson (I care a lot)

Heloise (Portrait of a Lady on Fire)

Diana (Wonder Woman)

San (Princess Mononoke)

Zeniba (Spirited Away)

Chihiro (Spirited Away)

Wlle Woods (Legally Blonde)

Rey (Star Wars)

Princess Leia (Star Wars)

Haley Graham (Stick it)

Cruella (101 Dalmatian)

Kiki (Kiki's Delivery Service)

TV Shows

Xena (Xena the Warrior Princess)

Gabrielle (Xena the Warrior Princess)

Callisto (Xena the Warrior Princess)

Buffy (Buffy the Vampire Slayer)

Faith Lehane (Buffy the Vampire Slayer)

Willow (Buffy the Vampire Slayer)

Sabrina (Sabrina the Teenage Witch)

Morgana Pendragon (Merlin)

Catharine Cawood (Happy Valley)

Donna Noble (Doctor Who)

Martha Jones (Doctor Who)

Female Doctor Who (Doctor Who)

Kaya (Supernatural)

Charlie Bradbury (Supernatural)

Claire (Supernatural)

Veronica Mars (Veronica Mars)

Anna Clare (Being Human)

Poussey Washington (Orange is the New Black)

Sister Michael (Derry Girls)

Orla (Derry Girls)

Hayley (Hard Candy)

Vilanelle (Killing Eve)

Eve (Killing Eve)

Anne Lister (Gentleman Jack)

Ann Walker (Gentleman Jack)

Kim (Kim Possible)

Daria Morgendorffer (Daria)

Temperance Brennan (Bones)

Kim Wexler (Better Call Saul)

Katara (Avatar The Last Airbender)

Azula (Avatar The Last Airbender)

Toph (Avatar The Last Airbender)

Krosh (Kid Cosmic)

Guinan (Star Trek New Generations)

Bo-Katan Kryze (Star Wars)

Dong Eun (The Glory)

Leslie Knope (Parks and Recreation)

April Ludgate (Parks and Recreation)

Rosa Diaz (Brooklyn 99)

Dana Scully (X Files)

Kathryn Janeway (Star Trek: Voyager)

Calamity Jane (Deadwood)

Flea (Fleabag)

Michonne (The Walking Dead)

Trixie (Call the Midwife)

Sister Monica Joan (Call the Midwife)

Regina Mills (Once Upon a Time)

Emma Swan (Once Upon a Time)

Ruby Lucas (Once Upon a Time)

Mulan (Once Upon a Time)

Samatha/Sam Carter (Stargate SG-1)

Kira Nerys (Star Trek: Deep Space 9)

Jadzia Dax(Star Trek: Deep Space 9)

Eleanor (The Good Place)

Annalise Keating (How to Get Away with Murder)

Cheryl Blossom (Riverdale)

Miranda Bailey (Grey’s Anatomy)

Lizzie McGuire (Lizzie McGuire)

Catherine the Great (The Great)

Dolores Abernathy (Westworld)

Maeve Millay (Westworld)

Lorelai (Gilmore Girls)

Paris (Gilmore Girls)

Morticia Addams (Addams Family)

Elisa Maza (Gargoyles)

Vera Bennett (Wentworth (2013)

Joan Ferguson (Wentworth (2013)

Constance Hardbroom (The Worst Witch (1998)

Princess Bubblegum (Adventure Time)

Marceline the Vampire Queen (Adventure Time)

Monica (Friends)

Phoebe (Friends)

Maisel (The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel)

Shiv Roy (Succession)

Hannah (Please Like Me)

Lupe (A League of Their Own)

Jess (A League of Their Own)

Shahrzad (One Thousand and One Nights)

Michael Burnham (Star Trek Discovery)

 Emperor Phillipa Georgiou (Star Trek Discovery)

Dee Reynold (It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia)

Kara Thrace (Battlestar Galactica)

Donna (Twin Peaks)

Laura palmer (Twin Peaks)

Audrey(Twin Peaks)

Marwa (What we do in the Shadows)

Nadja (What we do in the Shadows)

Love Quinn (You)

Allison (Orphan Black)

Cosima (Orphan Black)

Nyota Uhura (Star Trek: The Original Series)

Lisa Cuddy (House MD)

Leela (Futurama)

Bean (Disenchantment)

Pam (Archer)

Grace (Grace and Frankie)

Frankie (Grace and Frankie)

Helga Pataki (Hey Arnold)

Anime/Manga

Sophie (Howl's Moving Castle)

Usagi Tsukino (Sailor Moon)

Hotaru - Sailor Saturn (Sailor Moon)

Michiru – Sailor Neptune (Sailor Moon)

Haruka – Sailor Uranus (Sailor Moon)

Rei – Sailor Mars (Sailor Moon)

Homura (Puella Magi Madoka Magica)

Sakura Kinomoto (CardCaptor Sakura)

Tomoyo Daidouji (CardCaptor Sakura)

Onpu (Ojamajo Doremi)

Motoko Kusanagi (Ghost in the Shell)

Striga (Castlevania)

Carmilla (Castlevania)

Misa Amane (Death Note)

Asuka Langley Soryu (Neon Genesis Evangelion)

Riza Hawkeye (Fullmetal Alchemist)

Shinobu Kocho (Demon Slayer)

Utena (Revolutionary Girl Utena)

Nana Osaki (Nana)

Hachi (Nana)

Jean (Claymore)

Clare (Claymore)

Theresa (Claymore)

Helen (Claymore)

Deneve (Claymore)

Casca (Berserk)

Haruno Sakura (Naruto)

Yosano (Bungo Stray Dogs)

Tome Kurata (Mob Psycho 100)

Nikaido (Dorohedoro)

Nia (Dorohedoro)

Maki Zen'in (Jujutsu Kaisen 0)

Yuno Gasai (Mirai Nikki)

Ichigo Momomiya (Tokyo Mew Mew)

Zakuro Fujiwara (Tokyo Mew Mew)

Historia Reiss (Attack on Titan)

Mikasa Ackermann (Attack on Titan)

Games

Nancy Drew (Nancy Drew)

April Ryan (The Longest Journey)

Kate Walker (Syberia)

Zelda (Legend of Zelda)

Impa (Legend of Zelda)

Urdosa (Legend of Zelda)

Evie Frye (Assassin's Creed)

Senua (Senua's Sacrifice)

Aloy (Horizon Zero Dawn)

Elisabet Sobeck (Horizon Zero Dawn)

Serena (Skyrim)

Frea (Skyrim)

Morrigan (Dragon Age Origins)

Kreia (Star Wars Knights of the Old Republic II)

Kassandra of Sparta (Assassin's Creed Odyssey)

Heather Mason (Silent Hill 3)

Reika (Fatal Frame)

Rei (Fatal Frame:The Tormented)

An Shiraishi (Project SEKAI)

Nene Kusanagi (Project SEKAI)

Ena Shinonome (Project SEKAI)

Jesse Faden (Control)

Almalexia (The Elder Scrolls)

Billie Lurk (Dishonored)

Emily Kaldwin (Dishonored)

Cecelia (Dishonored)

Lizzy Stride (Dishonored)

Delilah Copperspoon (Dishonored)

Lohse (Divinity: Original Sin II)

Sebille Kaleran (Divinity: Original Sin II)

Siva (Divinity: Original Sin II)

Malady (Divinity: Original Sin II)

Dallis the Hammer (Divinity: Original Sin II)

Toriel (Undertale)

Undyne (Undertale)

Alphys (Undertale)

Commander Shepard (Mass Effect)

Tali'Zorah nar Rayya (Mass Effect)

Liara T'Soni (Mass Effect)

Aria T'Loak (Mass Effect)

Nyreen Kandros (Mass Effect)

Shala'Raan vas Tonba (Mass Effect)

Matriarch Aethyta (Mass Effect)

Yuna (Final Fantasy X)

Abby (The Last of Us)

Ellie (The Last of Us)

GLaDOS (Portal)

Chell (Portal)

Dr. Suvi Anwar (Mass Effect Andromeda)

Leliana (Dragon Age)

Parvati Holcomb (The Outer Worlds)

Chloe Price (Life is Strange)

2B (Nier Automata)

Comics

Stephanie Brown (DC comics)

Cassandra Cain (DC comics)

Zatanna Zatara (DC comics)

Elektra Natchios (Marvel comics)

Fanfiction

Ebony Dark'ness Raven Dementia Way

Web comics

Vriska Serket (Homestuck)

Jaden (Leasebound)

Antimony Carver (Gunnerkrigg Court)

Fictional Movies

Katya (Goncharov)

Podcasts

The Faceless Old Woman Who Secretly Lives In Your Home from (Welcome to Nightvale)

Plays

Lady Mabeth (Macbeth)

Clytemnestra (Oresteia)

Miscellanous

Hatsune Miku (Vocaloid)

RULES:

All fictional women from a category will be randomized, and put into polls

Whoever gets 50 votes automatically proceeds into the next round. There won't be only one winner for each poll!

We will do one category at the time. We'll start with books.

We'll decide on a winner of each category, and then whoever had the most votes, will proceed into the Final 10.

I'll calculate how many votes each woman got, so that at the end of the voting, you can see how many other women also adored your favourite ones :)

This also means that once you vote, if there's someone else you also want to see in the finals, you can reblog and let your followers know who already has enough votes, and who needs more in order to proceed. I'll also sometimes reblog polls announcing that a certain character has made the cut, and now others need your attention. We're trying to see which ones are loved and adored enough to actually get a lot of votes, even with competition. The voting starts at the end of nominations!

(POLLS ARE COMING SHORTLY)

[mikoriin]

Drunken Nights (SyaoSaku NSFW Fic)

so this is actually a couple years old by now, but its a bit i want to insert into my syaosaku fic 'Love Will Be Ours' which you can read here on ao3. i dont know when this would happen, but i felt it in my bones one day back in 2020 and wrote this. its been revised since then, but i hope you all enjoy all the same!

---------

Drunken Nights (read on ao3)

Pairing: Syaoran Li and Sakura Kinomoto

Media: Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicle

Rating: 18+

Genre: Fantasy, Romance, First Time

Sakura has just been coronated Queen of Clow, promising she will lead her people into a new day where war no longer touches their country's soil, and so the kingdom held a huge party to celebrate their new queen. After celebrating hard, Syaoran leads Sakura to her chambers for the night, however, this time, she asks him to stay with her. Feeling like it would be a betrayal to himself if he said no, Syaoran enters his queen's chambers with her and they find themselves entangled in each other.

---------

The coronation party was a success. Everyone was dancing, singing, and laughing, drinking to their hearts’ content celebrating the newly crowned queen of Clow. Their armies had pushed back the Celecian troops and the war was going in their favor for the first time. Everyone important attended the party, from dukes and duchesses to the members of the royal court. The only person missing was Yukito, though he had given Sakura his blessings and good word to her the previous day. Even Fei Wong was there for a bit, though Sakura found that he soon disappeared as things started getting especially lively. 

The thing that surprised the queen the most, however, was just how much Syaoran let loose. She watched him open up to Ryuuoh and Tomoyo, laughing and cheering in a way she had never seen. It warmed her heart. She hadn’t felt as giddy as she did at the party than she had before Touya passed away. It was a nice change of pace from all the politics consuming her life. Now, however,  it was late into the evening and Sakura had excused herself to her chambers as the ambassadors and court members drank themselves sick. 

Snickers and giggles echoed in the empty halls of the palace, music just barely audible in the queen’s ears. Her vision was fuzzy and her stomach swirled with butterflies as she held Syaoran’s hand heading to her chambers, just as the two of them would do any other night. Though tonight, the hand-holding was new. 

“Mr. Fai and Mr. Kurogane were so funny tonight.” Sakura said, swaying their hands between them as they walked side by side. “They’re such a duo.”

Syaoran smiled, “Mr. Kurogane is very strong. He seems indifferent or even cold at times, but he cares. He’s very kind, which is another form of strength.”

Sakura felt her heart swell with glee watching Syaoran talk about someone he loved so dearly. She tightened her grip on his hand.

“And you know, he’s never been easy on me, but he’s taken care of me. Ever since my father died, Mr. Kurogane took me in, even when he didn’t have to. There was no benefit for him, undertaking an inexperienced teeanger with no home or direction.” He continued, a genuine smile painted across his face. “He’s a good man.” 

“Mr. Fai is a lot like Mr. Kurogane.” Sakura chimed in. “His attitude is the complete opposite, always joking and laughing. But, at times he seems like he’s in a faraway world. Like he’s dealing with great pain all by himself.”

She clutched her chest, remembering the way she had been coping with her own pain. Shaking her head, thus ridding the thoughts from her mind, she focused back on Fai. “Despite his pain, I think he’s a good man.”

Syaoran listened to her, just as she had listened to him, feeling warmth seeing her talk about someone she cared about so dearly. Eventually they reached the doors to Sakura’s room, the giddy feeling of being together fading, the sad goodbyes of sleep separating them. Sakura opened the large doors, opening the space into her private quarters. Syaoran began to pull his hand away from hers, but Sakura only held on. 

“Your Highness?” He asked.

Sakura stared at the floor. She didn’t want him to go, but she knew it was time to say goodnight. Biting her lip, she trembled, forcing herself to speak her heart’s true desire. “Stay…”

Syaoran blushed at her request, feeling the butterflies dance around his stomach once again. “Your Highness, I…”

“Please.” She looked him in the eyes now, her face beat red and her eyes screaming for a place to hide, yet she stood her ground.

The knight grew soft at the image of her before him, pleading for him to stay the night with her. How could he say no? He nodded, feeling like it would break every bone in his body to refuse her. Sakura beamed at his answer, leading him into her bedroom. He took in the space he had never seen before, Sakura noticing his head turning every which way. Shutting the door behind her, the queen took her place by his side. Her body trembled as she stood next to him awkwardly. He was actually in her room, in her private quarters where only Tomoyo and her own family had previously entered. 

“Your Highness?” Syaoran asked from beside her, noticing her fidgeting. 

Sakura jumped hearing his voice, she was so nervous she didn’t know what to do with herself. “S-sorry...I know I asked you to come in, but now I’m feeling really nervous.” Her cheeks grew hot.

“Do you want me to leave?” He asked.

Sakura shook her head, grabbing onto his sleeve. “No. I’m nervous, but I’d rather have you with me.”

Syaoran smiled. He felt the same. He took her hand in his and brought it to his lips. “If the queen wishes for me to stay with her through the night, then I will do so.”

Sakura’s whole face turned bright red at this. Her eyes darted from the floor to the ceiling. Syaoran then realized what he did, and blushed himself, letting go of her hand. “I-I’m sorry.” He sputtered out. 

The two stood there in silence for a moment, before turning to each other and speaking. 

“I-” 

“We should-”

They spoke at the same time, cutting each other off. They tried again; 

“Maybe-”

“I think-”

Cut off once again. They looked at each other for a moment before bursting out into laughter. This cleared the awkward vibe between them, the both of them gradually becoming comfortable in the shared space. Sakura took a step toward him, closing the gap between them. She gripped his shirt gently, not looking him in the face. “When my brother died...I felt so cold and empty.” She started, her voice a little shaky. 

“Sakura…” Syaoran started, but Sakura hushed him. 

“It’s okay. I’m okay. Because I’m with you.” She looked up into his amber eyes. “When I’m with you, my sadness, loneliness, and anger all seem to fade away. Touya is still on my mind, and sometimes I’ve even tried to push him out. But when I’m with you, Syaoran, I feel like I can properly say goodbye. And he wouldn’t be angry at me for it, because I know he’s ready to go. And I’m ready to rule my kingdom as a queen Clow deserves.” 

Letting go of his shirt, Sakura took his large hand in hers. “And I would like you to stay by my side.” 

Syaoran looked at her wide eyed. He could feel his chest swell and the butterflies dance around his stomach once again. He looked into her jade eyes, seeing every emotion she was feeling in them. He smiled and leaned his forehead onto hers, bringing his pinky finger up between them. “It’s a promise.” He said. 

Sakura blushed at being so close. She brought her pinky to his, locking their fingers together, sealing the oath between them. They stared into each other’s eyes for a long time, feeling everything at once. Then, Sakura did something neither of them expected, bringing her face closer and closer to his until their lips touched. It lasted only a second, but it was soft and tender. Sakura must have realized what she had done, the panic showing on her face. 

“I’m...I’m so-” Sakura stuttered, not able to finish her sentence. 

Syaoran brought a gentle hand to caress her cheek, cupping her white face in his large palm. He brought his face closer to hers now, their lips brought back together. The kiss was gentle, soft, and warm. He broke the kiss, looking at Sakura again. They stared into each other, the sound of their heartbeats the only thing to be heard. They came closer once again, melting into each other as they kissed. Sakura wrapped her arms around Syaoran’s neck as he cupped her lower back, pressing her entire body against his. 

Sakura moaned slightly into his mouth, the sound driving him crazy. He parted their lips, breathing heavily. Sakura’s eyes were slit open, a hazy look on her face. He bit his lip looking at her, his cheeks changing in color. She was too cute, he wanted her to be his, he wanted all of her. He kissed her again, then her cheek, her eye, and moved to her ear. Sakura yelped at the contact. Syaoran quickly retracted his head. “I’m so sorry! Was that too much?” He asked frantically.

Sakura shook her head. “I’m sorry, I was just surprised.” She ran her fingers through his shaggy hair. “If it’s you, Syaoran, you can kiss me anywhere.”

Syaoran’s heart almost burst out of his chest hearing those words. He wanted to kiss anywhere and everywhere. Wanting to hold her and be one with her. Every bone in his body was screaming at him that this was wrong, that they shouldn't be doing something like this, but at the same time he didn’t care. Maybe it was the wine, maybe it was the simultaneous beating of their hearts, or maybe it was the fact that he was giving in to a long time desire. Syaoran leaned back into her skin, kissing on her lips again ever so gently. He couldn’t get enough of them, the way they molded into his, their softness, their glossy shine when he pulled away. 

Syaoran continued to kiss her, Sakura accepting every one. He moved down to her neck, kissing along her throat, her collarbone, and her shoulders. 

 “Syaoran…” Sakura whispered in a small voice, her vulnerability so loud in that little tone. 

This was like flicking a switch in Syaoran’s brain. He grabbed her shoulders and pushed her back gently against the wall. He kissed her again, but this time his tongue slid between the folds of Sakura’s lips. She was surprised at first, but Sakura quickly melted back into the sensation of her knight, allowing their tongues to touch and swirl around each other. She felt her legs shake, her hands gripping the sleeves of Syaoran’s white shirt. Syaoran cupped her face as they kissed, the passionate heat of the moment making a lewd voice leave Sakura’s throat. 

Syaoran pulled away quickly, his face completely red. He looked at Sakura’s face in a complete flush, the queen herself covering her mouth. She seemed so embarrassed, but Syaoran was the one who was feeling shame. He had gotten that out of her, and now after hearing it he felt a fire in his lower abdomen. He pulled back, putting distance between the two of them.

“Syaoran?” Sakura asked, a little nervous that she had scared him away.

Syaoran blushed deeply and stood awkwardly to try and hide the very obvious bulge in his pants. He felt so ashamed that he would think dirty thoughts about his queen, the one he has sworn his life to. Sakura seemed to notice because a quiet oh filled their silence. 

Sakura bit her lip. She was also feeling something she wasn’t used to. Sure, she had felt it before, and had even had nights where it wouldn't go away until she took care of it. But this feeling was different and intense . She wanted him. But she had never been so intimate with anyone before, and she certainly didn’t want to force herself on him. Sakura looked back up at her knight, realizing he was doing the same as she. She thought about the way he kissed her, soft and slow, deep and passionate. He wanted her too. 

She took a step closer to him, closing the gap between them. She took his face in her hands and pulled him down to meet her lips, kissing him hard.

“Your Highness, we…” Syaoran gasped once their lips parted, his voice a hoarse whisper. 

Sakura kissed him again, this time soft and slow. She pushed him back until he was resting on the wall opposite the side she came from. Parting their lips, she looked at him with glossy eyes. “It’s okay. We’re okay. If it’s us, there’s no wrong answer.” She said,

Syaoran bit his lip, but the look in her eyes swayed him. He nodded and leaned in for another kiss. Sakura accepted it, their tongues clashing again. She let her hands wander now, down his neck to his chest, and down his abdomen. Syaoran flinched when she reached his groin. She cupped the hard bulge in his pants, a moan escaping the knight despite his best efforts. Hearing such a noise come from her beloved made Sakura’s legs weak, feeling a pulsating sensation between her thighs. She grazed her hand over the bulge, tucking her fingers between his pants and his hips. Unbuttoning his front, she shimmied the pants down his hips. His dick sprung out once it was free, the cool air from the room touching his sensitive skin, making Syaoran shiver. 

Sakura took in a breath upon seeing it for the first time. She had never seen one in person before, only read about them and seen them in anatomy studies, and now she was looking at her special person’s. She looked at Syaoran, his face was beat red and his breathing was rigid. He looked at her then, their eyes meeting. Sakura began to gently run her hand up and down the base of his dick. This made the knight moan. Sakura almost squealed at hearing such a noise coming from him, it made her feel a strange sense of pride and embarrassment at the same time. She kissed him, her hand still stroking his shaft. Syaoran practically drooled at the contact, letting his noises into her mouth.

Sakura was going to go crazy, he was being so vocal, something she hadn’t expected, and it turned her on. She broke their kiss, leaning her forehead on his shoulder, her free hand traveling in between her thighs. Her fingers pressed into her dress, running circles into her clit. She moaned now, letting the lewd sound leave her mouth. Syaoran must have noticed because he went silent and watched her. The queen could feel his erection get harder in her hand, precum leaking from the tip. 

“Sakura…” His low, hoarse voice made Sakura want to touch herself more.

Syaoran then grabbed her hands with his, bringing her sticky hand to his lips and kissing her fingers, a sight that could’ve made Sakura explode. He stared at her with fiery eyes, a look he had never given her before, and began to lead her to her bed. He gently pushed her down onto her soft, silk sheets, laying on top of her and kissing her once again. Sakura wrapped her arms around him, pressing her tongue into his mouth. She felt herself tingle and become even more wet as the time went on. 

The knight broke the kiss, leaving Sakura whining. She felt embarrassed, but felt that her entire body wanted him, needed him. Syaoran kissed down her chin and neck, her collarbone and the top of her chest. He pulled the top of her dress down to reveal those little, plump breasts. Bringing his large hands to touch the soft skin around her nipple, squeezing a bit. Sakura breathed heavily watching him play with her bosom, throwing her head back when he pinched her pink nipple.

“Ah~” She moaned.

Syaoran continued to touch her breasts, bringing his tongue to caress the hard flesh that seemed to be asking for his attention. Sakura mewed at the sensation, feeling the flesh between her thighs pulsate, screaming and begging to be touched. “Syaoran...please..” She cried.

The knight took his cue, snaking his arms around Sakura’s thighs and up her dress. He grazed his gentle hand up her leg, finding the fabric of her panties. Sliding soft fingers between her skin and the underwear, Syaoran pulled his queen’s panties down and off her legs, tossing them to the side. He propped her up on the bed more, placing her legs over his shoulders. Sakura was breathing heavily with anticipation, her body trembling as her fingers wrapped around the skirt of her silky dress. She almost moaned just from the feeling of the fabric caressing her creamy skin.

Syaoran slid his head down her thighs, taking in her aroma. Taking in her scent was like awakening a beast inside him, he wanted to devour every inch of her.

Then, his attention fixated on a small little mark on her inner thigh. It was a fleshy pink color, standing out among her otherwise porcelain skin. He focused on it for a moment, only taking his mind off of it when Sakura asked if anything was wrong. “Syaoran?” She asked.

He said nothing, but instead buried his head into her thighs, licking the wet flesh. Sakura cried out in pleasure, clenching her thighs around his head. Syaoran began to lick and swirl his tongue between her folds, hearing the girl in his arms moan above him. His mouth left her vulva for a moment, a string of fluid connected his lips to her skin. He then went for her clit, taking the small ball of nerves into his mouth. Sakura cried and whimpered as Syaoran sucked on her and massaged her inner thighs, playing with the squishy flesh in his hand. 

Sakura breathed heavily, feeling his tongue go over her clit a little too roughly. She yelped, “Syaoran, wait wait!”

Syaoran’s head shot up from between her thighs, taking her hand in his. “I’m sorry, was I too rough?” He asked, genuine concern in his voice. 

Taking a second to calm herself down, Sakura gave him the go ahead to continue, with a reminder to be a bit more gentle. Syaoran noted this in his mind, gliding his tongue over her once again. Feeling her legs relax at the sensation of all of her nerves being touched, Sakura brought her legs away from her knight’s head. They stayed like that for a bit, Syaoran tasting every bit of her. Everywhere he licked sent tingles up Skaura’s spine, a fire being lit in her body. Syaoran began to massage her entrance, hearing her moan and whimper made his heart beat with every noise that came out of her mouth. 

“May I?” He asked, prodding her with his finger. 

“Please do.” She breathed out in response, feeling his index finger enter her.

She bit her lip as his slender finger slid inside her, the sensation setting her entire body ablaze. Syaoran brought his mouth back to her clit, licking it gently, watching her responses to his actions. He could feel her loosen around his finger as he licked around her folds.

“May I add another?” He asked, his voice eager.

Sakura agreed, clenching the sheets of her bed when he inserted a second finger. He pumped them into her, feeling around to find her sweet spot. She jolted when his finger grazed a certain area inside her, biting her lip so she wouldn’t be too loud. Hearing her response, Syaoran decided he would massage that spot a little more, sending lightning bolts up her body. 

“Syaoran-!” Sakura cried out, feeling pleasure overtake her body.

Syaoran gently licked Sakura’s clit while stroking that spot, Sakura’s squirming under him. Her body began to shake and her hips were grinding against his mouth. She let out little moans, tears forming in the corners of her eyes. She never thought something could feel this good, and felt like she was going to explode, the spot between her thighs becoming drenched in her own fluids. Syaoran moaned against her, sending vibrations along the folds of her pussy. Sakura moaned into the empty space of the room, her voice echoing off the walls of her chambers, surely if someone were to walk by they would hear her. 

Syaoran laughed a little to himself, feeling confident that he was able to make her feel this way. He continued to finger her, rubbing circles into the spot that seemed to be her favorite, the sound of her moans turning him on. He wanted to touch himself, but pleasing his queen and holding her thighs around his face was much more important. 

“Syaoran, I'm gonna…” Sakura whispered, feeling her body tremble. 

Syaoran used what little time he had left to really pump his fingers into her, watching her to see if this is what pleased her. Sakura moaned, and bucked her hips against his hand which was soaked in her juices. He went for her clit one more time, the notes in his brain reminding him she really liked this spot touched. He swirled his wet tongue over the ball, taking it into his mouth and sucking. This sent Sakura over the edge, and she felt herself cum, calling out her knight’s name. Syaoran took his fingers out of her, licking up her entrance, cleaning up her mess. The queen’s legs were trembling as she threw her arms over her eyes, breathing as if she had just run a marathon. 

Syaoran finally pulled his lips away from her, licking his lips and fingers, making sure to taste her everywhere he touched. Satisfied with his clean up, he brought his head up to meet her eyes, but he found them closed. She had fallen asleep. He smiled, seeing her contented face made his heart warm. Gently, he pulled her legs off of his shoulders and maneuvered around her to pick her up bridal style. She squirmed a bit in his arms, but Syaoran’s touch was gentle and warm as he held her against his body. He carried her to the head of the bed, tucking her into her sheets. She smiled and cuddled her pillow in her sleep. Syaoran knelt down to kiss her on the forehead. 

“Goodnight, my queen.” He whispered, nuzzling his face into her hair before leaving her bedside and her quarters, letting her sleep her drunken haze away. 

[sunny-mercya]

Simplicity

Edmund Pevensie x Male Reader

Fandom -> Chronicles of Narnia

Masterlist

The low humming of Jazz music, which comes from the old crackling radio in the livingroom—loud enough to hear throughout the apartment—fills the bathroom and is a cutting line for the once setting silence before.

Warm steam filled the small bathroom—giving the tiles a glistering of droplets—breathing onto the mirror and fogging it up. A nice comfortable humidity it was for the body and environment of minds.

You and Edmund laid in the bathtub together; you between his legs, back against his chest and while you nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck, Edmunds arms found a comfortable spot around your stomach—fingers drawing shapes and prodding onto your skin.

The water was as hot as it could be, almost feels like a boiling pot. During the colder months—end of October to mid April—it was nice to take a long bath in such burning like warmth. Though for your own liking, the temperature was just a tad too high and it took you more than just a few minutes to get adjusted to it. But Edmund was the one who had drawn the bath and preferred such temperatures much more.

The Instrumental version of; Bei mir bist du schön, had started and you tapped, drummed even, your fingers in rhythms against Edmunds arms and humming, mumbling the bit of lyrics you remembered—not completely in tune—with it.

One of the many songs you enjoyed to listen to, when it was being played on the Radio—you're still on a lookout for a Vinyl Record of it and even if it would cost you almost half your loan, it was worth it to buy—as it was, during the rough and nightmarish years of war, one of the few enjoyments you had.

Time like these, alone with Edmund and basking in simple togetherness, has become short lived and rare as of current in the last few months. With Edmund having his college courses from early morning to late afternoon and you working afternoons shifts—from 5pm till midnight—you two barely saw each other at all. So time like these are sacred and the weekends cramped with activities as much as possible.

«You want to watch the upcoming movie tonight or read some books?» Edmunds voice was deep low whisper, spooked you awake from your dozing off.

«Both. Though I wouldn't mind taking a nap too» you yawned a bit, the whole atmosphere, the sharing body heat, was making you feel drowsy and sleeping (the whole day) sounded appealing.

«I think, to do both would be a bit much to give attention to. A nap you can't take either, love, you already slept till lunch» deep chuckles rumbled through Edmunds chest, echoing through the room and sounded pleasing in your ears.

The water, which have lost significantly on temperature over the last two and half hour—goosebumps rising on your skin—sloshed every now and then whenever one of you two moved around too much. Creating a play of low and high tides and with a rubber duck and toy boat, it would make a great scene play indeed.

~~~

Scratchy and roughly felt the once soft fluff blankets on your skin now, a itching brush against your naked thighs—irritating.

The cushions of the Sofa didn't felt as comfortable today as you had imagined it would be.

Rigid, uptight and posh, like a guest or friend who visit their friend for the very first time, you sat next to Edmund—who has started to, probably again, read Moby-Dick and being on Chapter 4 already.

You didn't felt like reading nor watching some Television and neither to take a nap, even though you felt drowsy before—but now very much wide awake.

«Ed, bored am I,» you proclaimed as dramatic as you could, dragging the words at the end and lips wobbling, throwing yourself at your boyfriends side.

Edmund didn't take his eyes off from the book, reading the last few sentences—paragraphs—of the page, before turning to the next one,

«Well, what am I supposed to do about it?»

«Ending my suffering boredom?»

«Fine, get the scrabbles and Rommé, since ya won't let me finish my reading, love.» Edmund sighed out loud deeply, closing his book.

Edmund watched how you sprung from the sofa excitingly and walking towards the dresser. Roaming through the drawers in search of the games. The rising of your shirt—which belonged to him—showing a peek of your naked butt, was a enjoyable sight.

Most of the scrabbles round has won Edmund. Which wasn't surprising at all, as Edmund has a vocabulary as big and thick as the Oxford Dictionary, but the game wasn't about winning—it was about annoying and teasing each other, which then would turn into some deep, philosophical, conversations.

«And would you believe it? Clara was such a biatch towards Jeannie for no reasons at all and then, she had the audacity to like come at me and give me shit about me doing my work not properly and like—»

Edmund placed another letter piece on the board, listen patiently to your work ranting and gossip. You always had something new to tell him from your work, a nice change and contrast to his tiring and boring college life.

«Clara was the blonde right?»

«Yeah, blonde and with a horrific green and orange blazer.» you nodded, reminding him of the Blazer you absolutely detested. The colour combinations forever grotesque to you.

Edmund hummed, taking a sip from his tea—which you had made after round three. You placed two more pieces and Edmund couldn't help himself but to chortle, snorting even and choking a bit on his tea.

«Dear, I don't believe, Tresdonning, is word to exist,»

«Well, now it is and will be, Mr.Dictionary» you waved him off, placing another row of words—which probably didn't exist at all, but you didn't care, never had, as you both never played Scrabbles serious and abide the rules at all not once.

It didn't stop Edmund to be a teasing know-it-all arse and correcting you, whenever he got the chance for it. This too was part of the game though, then without it wouldn't be much fun to play at all.

«They bringing Night of the Count in the Television tonight»

«Brilliant, we haven't watched this movie in so long, I will make us some cinnamon bread for it. Eds, you still haven't told me about this weeks college,»

Edmund took another sip of his tea, dragging it into a long one. Compared to you daily doings, his mundane life of college felt boring—so boring how he himself felt sometimes, making him question why someone like you—a person so full of boastfully jolly colours, kind and lovable—would date someone like him, a person of greyish and bitterness.

So Edmund kinda dreaded it to tell you about his week. Pushing around the subject the best he could, though his options were running thin.

«The same as ever,» he begun, moving the scrabbles piece around his fingers.

At some point he spill dumped his entire week, the good and bad, to you and you listen—occasionally asking questions and begging in a way to still hear more about his subjects he had chosen.

~~~

The bed always felt the comfiest, more for safety and off guard, relaxing and causality, compared to the sofa and occasionally the thick fluffy wool carpet in front of the fireplace—where many heated passionate nights were shared.

Moonlight rays shining into the window and peeking through the small curtains gap. Illuminating the bedroom in a slight, bluish like, glow. It brought enough light too see most outlines and your own hand.

Edmund knew you are already deep asleep, ascending into the wonderlands of dreams while he whisper sweet nothings into your ear. Covered with thick layers of blankets and curling against his side, him having you in his arms—tracing his finger softly against your skin, drawing circles on your cheek and going over your lips.

Just laying here, in his bed with you in his arms, during one of the simple days, was something Edmund cherished the most. It mades him aware of how good life in the here and now, besides his life in Narnia, could be.

Edmund didn't know if he could survive a life without you, he would be able to move on if you were about to die suddenly.

«I love you»

Three simple words Edmund whispers in the night, into your ear. Three words with a grand meaning behind it, three words to show just how much you meant for him.

Just basking in the simplicity.