#like a village having to sacrifice one of their maidens each year

[candycandy00]

The Offering - A Sukuna x Reader Fic Part 1

Once upon a time, Sukuna was a human man, albeit a monstrously cruel and powerful one. Villages across the land worshipped him as a living deity. One such village holds a festival for seven nights in his honor every year, and on each night they make generous offerings to him, including women who are never seen again. On the fifth night, you are selected to be the offering.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Any feedback whatsoever is greatly loved! If you’d like to be tagged when I post another part, comment to let me know. You must have your age in your bio or pinned post and be 18+ to be tagged.

Smut. 18+. Sukuna is a human (my theory is that he got his four-armed body by modifying himself with jujutsu fuckery later in life). Dubcon. Mentions of rape that happened “off screen”. Very rough sex. Blood. Sukuna just generally being a sadistic monster. F!Reader.

Your forehead touched the ground, your entire body bent to bow as low as possible as the honored guest of the festival passed by. You didn’t dare look up at him. You’d heard stories of villagers being instantly beheaded by invisible blades for such an offense. 

Even when he was gone, climbing up the steps to the shrine your people had built for him several years ago, you kept your head pressed to the ground. There you and all the other villagers remained until someone announced that Lord Sukuna, your village’s living deity, had gone inside the shrine. 

Every year your village held a festival in Lord Sukuna’s honor. It was a week long affair, and each night generous offerings were left at the shrine’s doors for him to partake of. Sumptuous fruits, tender cooked meats, fragrant oils, delicate trinkets made of precious metals, sake of various types, and of course, beautiful women. 

Lord Sukuna remained inside the shrine for the entire seven days and nights, then left until the next year, when the process began again. The women offered to him were never seen again. 

On the fifth day, you were helping your mother prepare a basket of fruit for an offering. There were juicy pomegranates, glossy apples, and ripe peaches. They smelled heavenly, and you smiled as you arranged them to look as beautiful as possible. 

A sudden voice at the entrance to your home caught your attention, a man speaking to your father. “Please try to stay calm,” the man was saying, “but your daughter has been selected to be tonight’s offering.”

Your mother wailed beside you, clutching you in her arms as if she could keep you from being taken. Your father turned to look at you with an anguished expression. You yourself simply felt numb. A part of you knew this could happen. You were of age, unmarried, and had been told you were pleasing to look at. It was only a matter of time, really. 

So you stood in your home, your sobbing mother still holding you, as three shrine maidens walked in. They were quiet, older women dressed in white robes with downcast faces. They bowed to your parents, as if thanking them for their involuntary sacrifice, then took you by the hands. One of them helped your father pry your mother’s arms away from you as the other two led you outside. You didn’t even have time to say goodbye to your parents. 

You went with the shrine maidens willingly. To struggle or resist would mean death for you and your family, and then another girl would be in your place, being pulled out of her home while her parents cried. It would happen to someone regardless tomorrow night, but at least this would spare one family the misery. 

The shrine maidens took you to a small temple that sat at the base of Sukuna’s shrine. There they removed your simple garments and had you step into a large, warm bath. Floating in the water were near countless cherry blossoms, giving the entire room a sweet fragrance. You looked at the pretty pink flowers and, upon realizing this was the last time you would see them, began to cry. 

One of the women came closer and rubbed your shoulder in a comforting manner. You looked up at her in surprise. The shrine maidens were normally quite stoic, keeping to themselves, maintaining Sukuna’s shrine between festivals, and helping to prepare offerings and see to the Lord’s needs while he was there. From your understanding, they were the only people besides the village elders who were allowed to have any contact with Lord Sukuna at all. 

“Try to keep your head down,” the shrine maiden whispered, “and don’t look at Lord Sukuna until he tells you to. In fact, don’t do anything until he tells you to. Try to please him in whatever way he asks.”

You wiped your tears with your hands and looked at her sadly. “Does it even matter? Has any woman pleased him enough to survive?”

The shrine maiden’s grip on your shoulder became slightly more firm. “It does matter! If you please him, he might give you a quick death. We’ve been forced to clean up the remains of many women who displeased him. Believe me, you don’t want to be among their number. There are far worse fates than being beheaded.”

You shivered at her warning, but decided on the spot to follow her advice. Although the shrine maidens had remained silent about what happened to the other offered women, only confirming their deaths, rumors had drifted among the village for years. Stories of women being skinned alive, having their eyes ripped out of their sockets, having every bone in their bodies broken and their mangled limbs twisted into nightmarish shapes. You’d always hoped they were merely stories made up by the more morbidly curious villagers. 

You composed yourself and then asked the older woman a question. “What is he like?”

The woman glanced back at the other shrine maidens who were preparing a garment for you to wear, then said in a low voice, “Lord Sukuna is cruel. He has no mercy for anyone. He is a monster.”

You felt your heart sink. You would be taken by this man tonight, and you’d never even laid eyes upon him. 

When the bath was finished, you stepped out and were dried off by the women. They then dressed you in an extremely thin white robe. It was so thin that you were certain anyone could see right through it, making you feel embarrassed at the thought of walking into the shrine this way. Then you reminded yourself that he would probably rip it from your body anyway. 

They lightly painted your face and combed out your hair, leaving it unadorned. Then they opened the doors and motioned for you to follow. 

As you climbed the steps to the shrine, the shrine maiden who had spoken to you before gave you instructions. 

“When you enter, keep your eyes down toward the floor. Lord Sukuna will be seated on a dais before you, but you must not look up at him until you are given permission. Once you reach the dais, bow down as low as possible and remain that way until commanded otherwise.”

Your heart was pounding as you neared the end of the stone steps, and the end of your life. You stopped in front of the doors and took several deep breaths to try and steady yourself, then you lowered your gaze to the space in front of your bare feet as the women opened the shrine. 

You could feel his eyes upon you from the moment you stepped inside. The shrine maidens did not accompany you, and closed the doors behind you, leaving you to your fate. You slowly walked forward, keeping your eyes down, feeling a terrifying sense of pressure emanating from the dais that was supposed to be in front of you. 

The walk toward the dais was nerve wracking. You didn’t know how close or far it was, and you felt naked in the sheer robe, your cheeks no doubt burning red at the thought of this man staring at you. 

When you saw the edge of the dais come into view, you stopped and immediately knelt down, pressing your face to the floor as you always did with the other villagers every year. Then you waited. 

For several minutes, you heard nothing. No breathing, no movement. Then a smooth, deep voice said, “You may look up now.”

You shuddered, then worked up the courage to raise your head slightly while maintaining a posture of submission. When you did, your vision was suddenly full of the man your village worshipped, the dreaded monster called Sukuna. 

He was a man, not a beast, and you were shocked by how handsome he was. He sat not on his chair but across it, one leg drawn up at his side and the other hanging down, in a surprisingly casual pose. He wore white robes, the front open to his waist to reveal a muscular torso that drew your eye. 

His face was lined with strange tattoos, and in his eyes there was an intensity that nearly took your breath away. You remained perfectly still even as your heart thundered in your chest. You didn’t know what was happening, why you suddenly felt drawn to this man. You could feel the danger, you had the sense that he would rip you to shreds without a second thought, but you couldn’t take your eyes off him. Something about the terror he provoked also excited you. With a spike of alarm, you realized you wanted to touch him. 

When he spoke again, his voice had a silky texture that made you feel weak. 

“There are three types of women who end up here,” he began, looking down at you as if you were an insect he was about to stomp on. “There are those foolish enough to think they can seduce me. They feign love, and I let them live in their delusions, right up until I take them to my bed. The delusions shatter pretty quickly then.”

His lips curved up into a fiendish smirk, and you were left wondering what terrible things he did to those women in his bed. 

“Then there are the pathetic ones who cry and beg for mercy from the start” he went on. “Unfortunately this is the most common type. I have my way with them and then utterly destroy them. It’s what they deserve for boring me.”

Were these the women who displeased him? The ones who received the most brutal deaths? The cruelty of it stunned you, that the weakest and most frightened women were given the most horrific fates. 

“The last type is my favorite,” he said with a haunting grin, “the ones who fight and scream and claw. These provide me with the most amusement, but sadly are the most rare. It’s hilarious, you see, to watch them slowly realize they never had a chance in the first place. I enjoy breaking their bodies and their spirits. And to reward them for the entertainment, I have them on my plate after having them in my bed.”

Your eyes widened as his words sank in. Plate? Meaning he ate them? He kept grinning, perhaps guessing what you were thinking. You felt a wave of nausea hit your stomach, but you kept your breakfast from coming back up through sheer force of will. 

“I wonder what type you are,” he said, his red eyes boring into you, his unusually sharp teeth bared in his smile. “Try not to disappoint me.”

He stood up then, and his height was imposing, even more so because you were still kneeling on the floor. 

You kept your expression blank, but your mind was racing. What type were you? None of the three he described matched how you felt. You had initially resigned yourself to your fate, and had planned to simply be quiet and obedient until he tired of you and killed you. But now that you were in his overwhelming presence, you couldn’t suppress the thrill you felt, the animal-like attraction to this brutal yet beautiful man. 

The rational part of your brain was filled with terror and dread. Lord Sukuna was going to do indescribably awful things to you this night, then murder you and discard you as if you were nothing. But a bizarre little piece of your brain, one you’d never realized was there before now, was growing more excited by the moment. 

“Stand,” he commanded, and you hurriedly got to your feet. You felt your face burning again when his eyes roamed over your barely concealed body. He turned and walked toward the back of the shrine, looking over his shoulder at you to say, “Follow.”  

You obeyed, walking after him, careful to remain several steps behind. You soon came to a room marked off by sheer curtains, which Lord Sukuna pulled back to reveal the most lavish, ornate bed you had ever seen. Unlike the thin futon you were used to, this bed was thick and elevated off the floor. There were silk pillows and a satin-lined blanket, and the fabrics had apparently been perfumed, as they carried a heady, floral scent. 

When Sukuna reached the bed, he stood beside it and turned to face you. “Remove your robe,” he said in his rich voice. 

You nearly buckled right then and there. The fear and shame were mixing with arousal, and you thought you might collapse. With shaking fingers, you untied the thin sash around your waist. Then, with Sukuna watching intently, you opened the robe and slipped it off your shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. 

You’d never been bare in front of a man before, and it felt as if your skin burned wherever his gaze fell as his eyes moved up and down your form. 

He stepped closer and looked down at you, into your eyes. Did he see the turmoil inside you? The raging war between horror and lust? 

His hands fell upon your trembling shoulders, and his touch felt electric. Finally, his hands on your skin! But then he jerked your body around so that you faced away from him, and those hands roughly explored your exposed flesh. One of them squeezed your right breast while the other moved down to grope between your legs. You gasped at the sensations, at being touched in this way for the first time, at the realization that you didn’t hate it even though his touch was harsh. 

One of his fingers slipped into your folds, and  your breath hitched in your throat as he grazed over a particularly sensitive spot. You felt him pause, both hands going still, and then he suddenly turned you back around to face him. He seemed to study your face for a moment, and then a smirk spread across his features. 

All at once you were thrown onto the bed, your little cry of surprise ignored as Lord Sukuna slowly climbed on top of you. His hands were upon you again, grabbing and kneading the soft, plush areas of your body, his grip strong and bruising. He moved down, then pushed your knees up toward your chest, opening your thighs obscenely wide apart. 

There was a strange look in his eyes as he gazed down at your most private place, and again that smirk. He bent down, his face getting so close to your body that you could feel his breath. You couldn’t help blushing at the closeness, and then you felt something warm and wet glide up your slit. When you looked down, his tongue was extended from his mouth, a string of clear fluid attaching it to your body. 

A shudder rippled through you as he dove back in, this time pressing his tongue in between the folds of flesh to lick your swollen and sensitive clit. “Ah… ahh!” The small quick moans escaped your lips before you could stop them, and you felt a stab of fear when Sukuna looked up at your face. You were told not to do anything without his permission, so you had refrained from speaking. You didn’t want to displease him in any way, so you were trying to be completely silent. But when his tongue returned to your clit, circling it and then pressing into the top corner, even more moans came out. 

Lord Sukuna continued until your body stiffened, your hands gripping the silken sheets as pleasure shot through you and one last, long moan broke free. He pulled away from you and looked down, watching you pant as you started to drop your tired legs back down. He grabbed them before they could straighten and touch the bed, pressing your knees back up. 

You looked at him just as he opened his own robe, revealing the same pattern of black tattoos all over his body. It was a strangely alluring sight, but your eyes were quickly drawn to the very large and imposing organ between his legs. It stood stiff and ready, and you knew what was about to happen. 

Sukuna looked you in the eyes as he shoved himself inside you, so deep and so hard that you could only describe the motion as violent. He didn’t give you even a moment to adjust before he was thrusting viciously into you. It hurt, and even as naive as you were, you understood that he wanted it to hurt. He was clearly being as rough as he possibly could without literally tearing you apart, and tears stung your eyes as you bit back a scream, using one hand to cover your own mouth. 

Sukuna pulled your hand away from your face, then leaned down close and spoke into your ear, a whisper that that sent shivers through you despite the pain you were in, “Cry for me. I’ll allow it. Let me hear your voice.”

Hearing that, you let out a cry of pain before beginning to sob. You looked up him with wet eyes and found him grinning, enjoying your suffering. He truly was a monstrous man. His motions only became rougher, his hands gripping your thighs so hard you thought he might crush them. 

“Please… L-lord Sukuna…” you managed to cry out.

“Please what?” Again, that voice in your ear, that self-satisfied smile while watching you cry. 

“I-I don’t… I don’t know…” You didn’t know what you wanted. Did you want him to stop? You wanted the pain to end, but you didn’t want him to climb off you. 

“Really? Then I won’t let up.”

Unbelievably, he was thrusting even harder, even deeper. When you could no longer bear it, your hands that had been clenched at your sides flew up to wrap around his neck. He would probably kill you for touching him without permission, but you couldn’t stop yourself. Clutching him in your arms somehow made the agony between your legs subside just a little. 

If he was angered by your touch, he didn’t show it. Instead, he laughed as if he were amused by your desperation. 

Finally, when you were nearly at the limit of what you could withstand, you felt Sukuna’s cock twitch, his body go tense, and then  warm, sticky fluid shoot inside you. Your arms slipped down from his neck as he pulled out of you and let your sore legs fall to the bed. Somewhere in your dazed mind you knew this was the end. He’d had his fun with you and now he would kill you, just like all the others. You saw him stand up from the bed and wrap his robe around himself, but before he could even turn around, you passed out. 

*****

Sukuna looked down at the offering, feeling slightly annoyed that she had given out so quickly. She had held out better than most, however. 

Despite what he’d told her earlier, over half the women offered to him never even made it to his bed. They were crying too loudly or shoving their fake affection in his face or even having the gall to try to attack him. They ended up as chunks of meat in front of the dais. 

But this girl had been frustratingly blank and silent. He’d considered beheading her, but on a whim had decided to force a reaction out of her, thinking she could provide some entertainment. The reaction he got was not what he’d expected. 

Sukuna was fully capable of making a woman become aroused, but it was always after applying plenty of stimulation to certain areas, not because he wanted to pleasure them, but because fucking them felt better for him when they were wet. This girl, however, was practically dripping from the moment he first touched her. And when he’d looked at her face, he’d seen reddened cheeks and lusty, glazed eyes. He also saw fear, and that mixture was too delicious to waste. 

Those sounds she’d made, from the little hitching breaths to the soft moans she’d struggled to hold back, to the screams and cries of pain, had all been irresistible. He wanted to hear more of them. 

He stood looming over the bed, watching the growing red stain beneath her naked, still open thighs, and wondered what he should do with her. He could kill her right then and there as she slept, but that would be boring. Much better to listen to her sweet death cries. 

He reached up and absently touched the back of his neck. He could still feel her weak arms clinging to him. He stared down at the bruised and bleeding girl in his bed, at her sleeping tear-streaked face, and came to a decision. 

He summoned one of the shrine maidens, who entered the room with her eyes on the floor. She pointedly avoided looking toward the bed, probably afraid of what she would see. 

“Inform the village I won’t be needing a woman tomorrow night,” Sukuna told her. “I’m not finished with this one yet.”

The shrine maiden’s face lifted very slightly, the shock so much that she nearly forgot her manners. She quickly bowed again and said, “Yes, Lord Sukuna,” before hurrying out of the room. 

He sat down on the bed, then sighed before pulling a thin silken sheet up and draping it over the offering’s body. 

“Sleep while you can,” he murmured, a wicked grin returning to his face. “Tomorrow you’ll be entertaining me again.”

[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.

[rookiesbookies]

Greek God!Captain John Price x Maiden!Reader

TL:DR - this is what happens to the sacrifices sent to Price from my if the boys were greek gods post. Just a little thought exercise for myself.

Please send requests! I love hearing from you guys! Also Masterlist is pinned on my account❤️

Each of the boys have a forest dedicated to them surrounding the small village. Each are great hunters so it made sense, Konig has the mountain that separates the village from the neighboring war people, serving as protection.

When the neighboring war people did attack, it wasn’t pretty. Often killing half the men and taking whatever women they saw fit.

However, this girl escaped. She ran from their tents, and bolted into the woods. It wasn’t long before the men chased after her. Axes in hand. Yelling. Sprinting. Laughing darkly. Taunting her.

She ran as far as she could. She could see the fir trees. The big, thick, Grand Firs that were close together like a shield. She was lucky they hadn’t gotten her past the mountain. She would have been done for.

Her knees scraped against the limbs of the trees. Sap stuck to her whole body. Her dress tore against the branches. She began to cry.

Until she saw it. The glittering alter to one of their gods. She flung herself atop it.

She breathed out a prayer.

“Dear God Price, please God of Protection, save me now. Take me as a sacrifice if you must. Please, I beg of you. Protect me or send me a savior.” She cried out against the gold bench. Her fists clenched in the thin fabric of the drape over the altar.

She could hear the shouts of the men, gasping and crying harder.

She turned over and put her head in her hands, pulling her knees close. She prayed they’d run right past her.

She felt a warm hand touch her shoulder. She opened her mouth to scream but another covered it.

“Don’t. You’ll give us away, lass.”

She wanted to cry as she watched the war people stand in front of her, peeking around. It was as if they didn’t see her or the altar.

“See, yer a bit young for what I normally take as sacrifice, but I’m sure I can put a use to ya.”

As the people walked away she sighed and mumbled, “where do the other women god?”

“Simple, really. I see if they would fit as a bride for myself. If it doesnt work out, say we aren’t compatible, I see if I can find a man in another neighboring town that would best suit them and protect them. I put an illusion on the town yer from, as it is so remote, so that if you ever saw any of the women you wouldn’t recognize them.” He cleared his throat, “not very good pickings from your village as I see it.”

“So what is to happen to me?”

“I will see if you will work as a bride, if you do not, I will find you a protector and husband to care for you for the rest of your days.”

She shot up and hugged him. She didn’t expect gods to be this benevolent, much less a son of Zeus, but she had dreamed of escaping her village for so long. The torment of the war people was too much.

“But you said I was too young-“ she started. He patted her head.

“If it works out it will be a miracle. You’re about 10 years younger than I wanted my wife to be for the rest of time, but it will do.” He sighed, “most women do not seem to get along with me, so it would be a great deal of luck needed for you to.”

He tucked a hand under her knees and one behind her back. She held onto him around his neck as he flew. He landed in a far section of the woods. There was a cottage on top of a hill, it looks very nice and large. There was a big chimney sticking up from it with soft smoke coming from it.

“Did you mean to leave the fire burning?”

“I was in a bit of a hurry when I heard your prayer.” Price gently set her down before making his way inside. “I’m going to be chopping wood to keep the fire going out back. If you need anything, I won't be hard to find.”

She spotted dishes in the sink and decided she could have some use. So, she grabbed a wash rag and began to wash the glass cups and ceramic plates. She noticed the table had four places set. She wondered why, she assumed most gods spent their time alone. Maybe a second would make sense for whatever sacrificial woman he had at that point. But four?

There was a loud knock at the door. Without hesitation, three men came strolling in.

“Hello lass, could ya point us in the direction of Price?”

She pointed softly towards the back door of the cabin, the man with the mohawk and the tanner man walked toward the door. The blonde one stood there and stared at her.

“Bit earlier for a sacrifice ‘in’it?”

She opened her mouth to say something but nothing came out, so she looked down at her feet.

The man huffed and watched the back door. The two men came back in with Price, the one with the mohawk had his arm around Price’s shoulder and they were laughing.

“I hope Simon didn’t scare you too bad, love!” The one with the mohawk chirped. “I’m Soap, one of yer resident gods. And that’s Gaz.”

Gaz gave a little wave.

She would admit, she hadn’t assumed gods played poker or that they ate. However, Price did end up cooking a noodle meal with beef sauce. It had a couple vegetables like onions and peppers in it, which he had asked her to help slice. She did so with no complaints.

“I see you took to washing dishes earlier.”

“Was I not supposed to?”

“I was just a bit surprised, love, most of the women just make themselves at home on the couch or try to take me to bed to see what a god can do.”

“Oh,” she said softly. She carefully watched the knife as she cut. Price stepped away to get a spare chair from a closet, Soap and Gaz unfolded the table to reveal a hidden piece that made it longer.

Price helped teach her how to finish cooking the meal before plating for the boys and themselves. Price guided her to the seat next to his and they all ate merrily.

“Say, Captain, how do ya feel about a wee game of poker?” Soap began to deal and she gestured that she didn’t want to. “Ever played, lass?”

She shook her head.

“Watch the master then.” Soap flexed his arms with a proud smile, Simon rolled his eyes and Gaz jabbed him in the stomach, making him smack his hand pout.

The game continued and she watched all the men play, Price was showing her his card and talking her through the rules and the different hands as the game went on, using it as a way to throw Soap off. By the end of the night, Simon had won two games, Price had won three, Gaz had won two, and Soap had won one.

The boy began to head out and Simon smacked the back of Soap’s head, “so much of a winner now are ya,” and laughed to himself.

Price laughed to himself about it as well, under his breath though, he didn’t need Soap hearing him and getting upset or offended.

“How was that for a night, love?”

She giggled, finally starting to warm up to the god in front of her, “pretty fun.”

“I hope you don’t mind helping me clean up.” He said softly as she pushed a chair in and took plates to the sink. Price cleaned up the drink Gaz had accidentally knocked over on himself when Simon won.

Her cheeks began to heat up as he stood behind her, putting a plate in the sink. The were meer inches between them. “There’s spare undershirts of mine in the bottom drawer of the wardrobe up stairs. Go get some rest, I’ll take the couch.”

“I-I can’t rob you of your bed! That feels cruel!”

“Are you sure?”

She nodded profusely.

“Than I suppose I have another idea, since I refuse to make a lady take the couch.”

Part 2 is on my pinned master list

Let me know in comments or my inbox if you want a part 2! Please sent requests in my inbox!

[nanabansama]

Inspired by colowallocake's post, I searched through various Japanese legends about human sacrifice and wanted to offer some of my own suggestions as to the identity of the infamous "Pit God," as I like to call it.

First, let's recap what we know about it.

The god is heavily associated with water. The kannagi are sacrificed by being forced off cliffs and into a water-filled abyss. These kannagi wash ashore to a reservoir below the Red House, which was built on a well that taps into said reservoir. And when Tsukasa sacrifices himself, the God talks in watery speech bubbles:

It seems that whoever this god is, it's some kind of water god (水神 Mizugami) that dwells in Kamome.

And that's actually a common thing! After pouring through a few different articles about human sacrifice in Japan, I found that many of them are done to appease water gods. This is both a good and bad thing; good because there's so many and it's easy to find info, and bad because it doesn't really help us narrow it down.

That said, I have a few different stories I'd like to share with you. The first will be Mitsumata-fuchi.

Mitsumata-fuchi's story is remarkably similar to how the sacrificial ceremony works in TBHK. A beautiful maiden or otherwise a kannagi, aged about 15-16, is thrown into a pool of deep water for a festival thrown anywhere from once yearly to every 12 years to quell the anger of a wrathful god. That's crazy similar, isn't it?

And this "Mitsumata" is a real place! It's where the Numakawa and Wadagawa rivers in Japan join together. It's located in Fuji City in the Shizuoka prefecture. The Wadagawa river is also called by the name "Sacrifice River", funnily enough...

Anyway, there's another story about the Mitsumata I found interesting. A group of 7 girls were passing by when one of them, Oaji, was selected by the villagers to be sacrificed. The other 6 girls were spared and escaped, but feeling bad for the friend they left behind, they end up drowning themselves in a lake.

...But in an ironic twist of fate, the villagers had let Oaji go. Oaji ran after her friends, but when she learned they drowned themselves, she grew so sorrowful she threw herself into the water with them. Thereafter, the evil god was said to never demand a sacrifice again...

I'm not sure if AidaIro will ever reference this particular story, but I found the fact that 7 girls were sacrificed very intriguing in the context of TBHK.

Anyway, there are some interesting things in this legend that haven't been addressed in TBHK. For one, the god here is either a dragon or a giant (sometimes poisonous) snake.

We do have an illustration of this Pit God, which...

...was probably heavily stylized by some in-universe artist, but it is a valuable frame of reference nonetheless. Honestly, it really just looks like a nonspecific supernatural monster to me, but to call it a dragon or serpent isn't a far reach, either, I think...

Something about the multiple mouths reminds me of another story, though. And while I can't really get a specific name or detailed description for the Mitsumata-fuchi god, I do have one for this next one.

Yamata-no-orochi!!!

This tale is a lot more famous, so I'll be quick. Yamata-no-Orochi is an eight-headed serpent legendarily defeated by the brother of the great Amaterasu, Susanoo-no-Mikoto. When Amaterasu's fail brother was kicked out of Takamagahara, he wound up in the land of Izumo and met a crying old couple and a young girl. The old couple explains that they once had 8 daughters, but Yamata-no-Orochi devoured the other 7. It comes down once every year to eat one of their daughters, and soon enough their last daughter will be eaten, too.

Hearing this, Susanoo agrees to help them under one condition: that they let him take their last daughter as a wife. They agree, and Susanoo turns their daughter into a comb and asks them to prepare 8 tubs filled with sake. They comply, and when the serpent comes, each one of its eight heads greedily drink up the sake. Now drunk, the serpent is easily slain by Susanoo and his mighty blade.

...it kind of reminds you of how Minamoto no Yorimitsu got the oni Hakubo lived with drunk and slaughtered them, doesn't it? All these stories and making me afraid to drink sake... *shiver*

Anyway, Orochi is also a Water God, and probably the most famous of the ones that eat young maidens. While I'm unsure if our Pit God is Orochi, it wouldn't exactly surprise me! The fact that Yamata-no-Orochi (八岐大蛇) has eight heads while our protagonist Yashiro Nene (八尋寧々) has the kanji for 8 in her name is also an interesting connection.

As for our last story, I'll try to keep it brief. This one involves a dog, though, so I hope that keeps it fun and fresh for you.

This is the story of Shippeitaro, the legendary dog who, spoiler alert, saved a village from an evil spirit that demanded human sacrifices. In this story, girls are chosen to be sacrificed by a white arrow, and whoever's house is hit by the white arrow has to offer up their daughter. The girl is then sacrificed by being left at a shrine inside of a box/cage. Hmm, intriguing...

Anyway, long story short, the dog hides inside of the box instead and when the evil spirit comes to eat it, it springs out and defeats it! Good boy.

One of the interesting things about this story is that there are many variations. You'll notice I said "evil spirit" instead of something specific. That's because the spirit takes many forms. One of the more popular variations is that of a cat, but it can also be a monkey, fox, wolf...mostly different animals, from what I'm seeing.

Overall I think this story has a weaker connection than the other two, but on the whole, it wouldn't surprise me if AidaIro is taking inspiration from multiple stories instead of any specific one. Which brings me to my next point...

It's totally possible that our Water Pit God is just an original creation by AidaIro! In case you're not in the know, Japanese kami (gods) are basically infinite. Considering TBHK takes place in a made-up town, it's not too surprising if this kami is made-up, too, hm? :)

But hopefully you still found this post to be of help. I had a lot of fun researching for it. And if any of the stuff I mentioned here ever happens to show up in TBHK, that would be really cool! Anyway, if you made it this far, thanks for reading. ☆

[yuisdad]

Review and Rerwite of Hiiro no Kakera's anime adaptation

Overly long post ahead. 

Hiiro no Kakera, also known as Scarlet Fragments in English, is a 2006 ps2 otome game created by the then new Otomate sub-brand of Idea Factory, and was the company’s first flagship franchise that garnered over different ports and sequels. It’s 2 season anime adaptation came out in 2012, with an English Dub by Sentai Filmworks in 2013.

The story is about Tamaki Kasuga, who moves back into the countryside at her grandmother’s request. Upon arriving, she not only discovers that it’s filled with many spirits, but it also contains the Onikirimaru, a sword with the ability to destroy the world, and as the next generation’s Tamayori Princess, Tamaki must do her best to seal the sword in order to prevent the world being enveloped by unruly spirits.

Tamaki also has guardians with her, each of them representing different creatures that helped the first princess long ago. Tamaki and her knew found friends also need to fight off an enemy organization called Logos, originating from Germany and run by a 10 year old girl.

Characters:

Tamaki Kasuga: The protagonist and the next Tamayori princess. Is apparently the ‘Oujou-sama’ type character, where she’s a little stuck up and mouthy, but is otherwise kindhearted and a hard worker.

Takuma Onizaki: A descendant of an oni, he’s the first guy Tamaki meets and initially dislikes because he called her ‘clumsy’. He’s apparently the ‘tsundere’ type, and is the one Tamaki ends up with.

Yuichi Komura: A descendant of a fox spirit, he’s the 'kuudere’ type with the ability to cast illusions and fire. He also has narcolepsy, which the show thinking it’s funny that he sleeps at random times.

Mahiro Atori: A descendant of a crow spirit that can control wind, he’s hot-blooded and short for his age. One of the few instances where a main guy character is shorter than the protagonist.

Suguru Omi: A descendant of a snake spirit that can control water, he’s very mellow and is the oldest of the main cast. He seemingly turns on the others to join Logos, but his actual goal is to prevent another sacrifice to the Onikirimaru from happening.

Shinji Inukai: The shy youngest of the main cast who uses words to cast magic, he seems to be the descendant of the wolf spirit, but he’s actually a part of Logos working as a spy under the code name Funf. Thank God I watched the dub because I heard his original voice was really annoying.

Ryo Kutani: A mysterious character who turns out to be the actual wolf spirit descendant, and I believe he can control earth. The first thing he does is sniff Tamaki and she rightfully calls him a sexual harasser. He appears later into the first season.

Shizuki Ugaya: Tamaki’s grandmother and the current Tamayori Princess before her granddaughter takes over. Initially appears to have Tamaki’s best interest, but is later revealed to have been sacrificing other villagers (aka, drowning them) for the sake of the Onikirimaru, and attempts to kill Tamaki and Takuma as well.

Mitsuru Kotokura: A shrine maiden who takes care of the house and prepares meals. She initially has feelings for Shinji, but it’s later revealed that they are twins…The game makes this even weirder. She’s traumatized from helping Shizuki sacrificing the town’s villagers to the point where she disassociates and behaves like a doll following orders.

O-chan: A little fox spirit that appears out of the shadows. Has a human form in the games. He’s a cutie pie and I love him.

Kiyono Takara: Tamaki’s classmate who makes money from making straw voodoo dolls. She’s quite excitable and is weirdly into knowing Tamaki’s love life. She’s actually 23 and is a spy for a governmental bureaucracy, using her youthful looks to sneak into high school to keep an eye on the Onikirimaru.

Masataka Ashiya: A businessman who works for the government and likes eating rice crackers. Initially thought to be Kiyono’s uncle, he’s actually her boss and wants to control the Onikirimaru for the sake of world peace…and by world peace, he actually means controlling the world to his bureaucracy’s image.

Aria Rozenburg: The 10 year old leader of Logos who is believed to be a sacred maiden blessed by Gods. She’s only being used by Logos because she’s the only one who can break the barrier containing the five artifacts that weaken the Onikirimaru’s power.

Eins/Leif Helluland: An aid to Aria who wants the Onikirimaru to protect her. Has guilt over losing a child that looked like Aria.

Zwei/Hugo Stingrail: Another aid to Aria who wields a death sythe and eats his opponents’ souls. He’s actually a human being controlled by a spirit.

Drei/Magus Melchizedek: Another aid to Aria with ulterior motives. He’s the big bad and one of the founding four Wisemen of Logos. He killed the original Drei and took his place to better manipulate his way to wield the Onikirimaru. He’s also a mage who wants to control the world that outcasted him for his magical abilities.

Vier: The closest aid to Aria and was chosen by Aria herself out of all of her subordinates. Acts motherly towards Aria and has her best interest. Disguises herself as an English teacher named Fiona Ashiuma and converses with Shinji behind the scenes. She’s actually a homunculus of Suguru’s dead mother who was one of the many sacrificial victims that seals the Onikirimaru.

Thoughts:

The anime suffers from sticking close to the game’s story and pacing, leading it to have the same issue as the game it’s based on; the plot is boring and slow paced up until it’s later half with sporadic fight scenes sprinkled in. You would think the first season would use it’s time to develop the relationship between it’s main cast, but it only has the characters suddenly saying they’re close without actually showing them spending time together, outside of more comedic scenes. The worst offender is Ryo, who appears later into the first season and doesn’t have that many scenes with the main cast, but apparently they consider him a close friend by the end of the series. The show spends most of it’s time building things up that the second season pays off rather than character interactions that could help develop their relationships more naturally.

I’m also not a fan of how some of the guys treat Tamaki…er, the ones who actually have an established relationship with her, who are Takuma and Mahiro. The guardians are established to listen to the Tamayori Princess without question, but Takuma and Mahiro constantly question and berate Tamaki’s decisions and her capabilities of being a Tamayori Princess from the start, as well as dismiss her concerns about their well-being and self-sacrificial tendencies. Cue in my confusion where they say that they support Tamaki and will no longer die for her sake and instead work together in the last few episodes. These two are particularly bad with this because Mahiro’s ancestor knew the first princess the most and made a promise to die for her instead of letting her get killed, and Takuma’s ancestor was killed by the original princess along with killing herself for the sake of sealing the Onikirimaru’s powers. Outside of Shinji and Ryo, the others say they will die for Tamaki when she’s made it clear she doesn’t want that, ignore her wishes anyways and nearly get killed fighting Logos, up until the few final episodes of the first season where they decide to work together with Tamaki.

The first season also has an issue where they fill scenes with lore dumps, Logos sitting around talking about lore and the main cast also talking about lore. Lore is a good way to establish the characters and the world they’re in, but most of the dialogue revolves around the Onikirimaru and the five seals’ purpose that characters just hanging out and having fun together are few and far between. Thankfully, the second season not only has better pacing overall, but it actually has characters doing things outside of fight scenes and off-screen moments.

There are also moments where it seems like set up to important character work, like how the guardians are viewed as disposable monsters by the general public and the main cast going through generational trauma, but it’s all overshadowed by not only lore dumps, but the writers feel the need to make almost every main character as complex as possible. This is a problem the game apparently has as well, where they take focus away from the guardians and shift development onto Logos, leaving characters like Yuichi and Ryo to get very little screen time and moments with the other main cast members. Complex antagonists aren’t bad in theory, but it becomes a bad thing when the show also has to develop 7 main characters, which is why antagonists often work better as being one note. Outside of Aria and Vier, I don’t care about the others, and the only one who actually works as a villain is Drei because he’s the only one who has a set goal and is written in a way where the writers don’t want it’s audience to sympathize with.

I’m also not a fan of how the Onikirimaru is presented as malevolent in nature rather than it becoming dangerous to use based on it’s users’ desires. No matter who the user is, it just turns them evil. An example is how the Oni that Takuma is descended from wanted revenge on the Gods who killed his people. Not only does this paint revenge as an inherent act of evil, but it also establishes that the Onikirimaru’s powers came from another Oni who we don’t see until Hiiro no Kakera 3 rather than Takuma’s ancestor, because they wanted to establish a tragic romace between the Oni and the first Princess, and since Tamaki and Takuma are reincarnations of both of them, I guess they want to absolve Takuma’s ancestor being the possible creator of the Onikirimaru and just do a 'revenge bad’ backstory on top of it.

Rewrite:

In terms of lore, the Onikirimaru works similarly to the Elements of Harmony from My Little Pony’s fourth generation, where it’s fated user wields the item’s ability based on their desires. Any user that uses it for evil purposes, like Sunset Shimmer in the first Equestria Girls’ film, will corrupt the magic the item holds.

Takuma’s descendant, the god of the underworld, decided to become the Tamayori Princess’s guardian to work closely with the Gods for the betterment of demon’s reputation and to protect the world itself. However, he formed a twisted infatuation with the princess through the teachings of the guardians being sacrifices to the princess if she were in danger, leading him to commit acts that he thinks would be better for the princess alone, tarnishing the bond he made with the Gods and other demons, as well as the other guardians. This twisted love and paranoia causes him to use his sword and five artifacts protecting the world to kill the Gods and his people, as well as killing the other guardians when they tried to stop him. The oni only stops when he sees what he did to his world, Earth, and the world above, as well as seeing the princess in complete and utter misery.

The princess decides to seal the sword with both her powers and the Oni’s via killing both of them so her and the oni’s powers could be in balance so another disaster wouldn’t happen. This leads to future generations of the princess and the oni to share the power of the Onikorimaru rather than having powers themselves. The princess also sealed the sword’s powers with the remaining magic the artifacts have, leaving the artifacts in a weakened state to where it could only protect a village rather than the entire world. This leads to future generations having multiple princesses throughout the world that could support the ones originating in Japan.

Aria Rozenburg is the European equivalent of the Tamayori Princess, and she, along with other princesses around the globe, has the abilities to wield the artifacts and sword if their original wielders die. Her parents wanted Aria to live a fairly normal life to not cause her stress, leaving her to be sheltered off from the world and the guardians she only met in passing. These guardians were made up of the controversial Logos, whom Germany has a tenuous relationship with due to their tactics not keeping in line with the princess’s best interests and well being. The founder of Logos, Magus Melchizedek, kills one of the guardians to take their place as well as kills Aria’s parents to use Aria’s abilities to take control of the artifacts and sword. He also creates a clone of Suguru’s dead mother so Aria can have a motherly figure she can depend on after the 'unknown’ cause of death of Aria’s parents.

Tamaki moves to the countryside to become a shrine maiden under her grandmother, but learns that she’s the next princess in line, and direly so since the artifacts protecting the village and the Onikirimaru has been weakening over time. The cause of this is Tamaki and Takuma being reincarnations of their first ancestors, causing the sword’s powers to become unbalanced since they have regained their abilities that future generations weren’t capable of having.

The guardians were taught to sacrifice themselves for the sake of the princess, but seeing how fiercely loyal Aria’s guardians are to their princess leads them to start questioning their purpose in regards to protecting Tamaki.

In regards for overall characters, Tamaki is similarly spoiled and mouthy like Aria, but where they differ is how they were raised. Tamaki, aside from being more mature in general, is still kind to others and does her best to be a great princess, even of that means getting her hands dirty. Tamaki was also raised by loving parents who taught her life experience, even if they spoil her a little too much. Aria, on the other hand, is more selfish with her role due to literally being ten and being taken advantage of by guy who hypes her up to be the rightful owner to wield the artifacts and sword. Before that, Aria was sheltered due to her parents not trusting Logos’ protection, but it was at the cost of her not gaining enough knowledge about her role and how to treat others up until her current age, making her seem more immature than how a ten year old usually acts.

Takuma’s words may come off as a little harsh, especially at the beginning, but he’s ultimately sweet and a tad awkward, but has a hard time expressing his thoughts clearly, which led to Tamaki initially not liking him. However, the two of them eventually become close friends due to their shared interests in 'odd’ things, (Tamaki is a shrine nerd and collects ayakashi themed items, as well as seeing and interacting with spirits her whole life, while Takuma is into crossword puzzles and creates close bonds with the spirits in the village, even giving them names), as well as their initial abrasive attitudes causing some of their peers at school to think they’re know-it-alls. Takuma’s arc deals with him learning to be more emotional since it was ingrained in him to keep his feelings at bay for the sake of the princess, as well as learning to not feel guilt over using his powers from his first ancestor.

After an initial mix-up with Tamaki thinking Mahiro is much younger due to his height, the two of them hit it off and have a relationship similar to siblings who annoy others in their proximity. Mahiro dreams of traveling the world when he’s older, but he puts them aside to focus on protecting Tamaki. Ironically, it was Tamaki and the other guardians who helped him reignite his interest in traveling, even making money in bizarre ways to help him achieve his dream.

Yuichi is seemingly stoic and brutally honest to others except himself, and acts as the student council president and is the smartest in his class. He’s an intense rule follower, leading him to be the hardest to get through to not sacrificing himself for both Tamaki and his friends. He becomes more mellowed out when he learns to have fun and relax sometimes. This all comes to ahead when he learns of the sacrifice of the other civilians, leading him to snap and almost attacks Tamaki’s grandma, as well as having an existential crisis about his role on being a guardian. Cue him being comforted by his friends and found family, leading him to wanting to remain friends with everyone rather than acting as a shield.

Suguru acts as an older brother/parental figure to the other guardians and Tamaki, mostly due to the trauma of losing his mother at a young age and would often comfort the others after Shizuki’s harsh scolding. He starts working as a spy and pretends to join Logos to understand how they find the artifacts and their true goal. It’s here that he discovers Shinji was working for Logos and that his dead mother’s body was used to make a clone of her. He eventually reveals to the others about the sacrifice of the other villagers for the sake of keeping the Onikirimaru sealed.

Mitsuru and Shinji are twins who were born from a shrine maiden, but Shinji was stolen as a baby by Logos to create a spy that would replace the wolf spirit after Ryo and his family moved away. Both of them were given abilities by the bureaucracy Masataka and Kiyono work at. Mitsuru is able to create force fields and Shinji is able to materialize items using words that appear on his body. As the years went by and Mitsuru became a part of sacrificing civilians, she disassociates and only acts when given orders.

Shinji was raised by Logos into believing that Aria is the true princess, but he’s not fiercely loyal to her like the others, and often acts as the closest thing she has to a family member and giving Aria reprieve from constantly being praised by her guardians. Shinji starts to question both Shizuki and Logos after spending time with Tamaki and the others, ultimately deciding he wants to free everyone from their so called 'fates’. When Shinji met Mitsuru, the two automatically have a close connection that they initially couldn’t describe, as well as revealing their secrets to each other before anyone else. Once they realize they’re twins, both of them decide to abandon their initial roles to help each other as well as their friends.

Ryo moved with his parents at a young age since they didn’t want their son to be sacrificed for the sake of the princess. Growing up, he exhibited odd behavior due to being the wolf spirit’s descendant, such as sniffing and hearing things from far distances and eating more portions than the usual child, causing him to become a victim of bullying by his peers. He grew up as a loner and was emotionally distant aside from his parents.

Entering high school, his parents moved a little closer to the countryside, deciding to go to the same school as the next princess since he wanted to protect her on his on volition, as well as hoping to bond with her and the guardians. He was only able to make friends with Kiyono, making him seem even weirder to everyone else since he was hanging out with someone who has interest in the occultic arts. He especially became upset and confused when Shinji took his place as the wolf spirit guardian role, and even more angry that Shinji was working with the enemies. After some initial bad impressions, he becomes a part of the friend group and becomes more open to the others, to the point of putting his hatred of Shinji aside to help him question the situation he was put into.

Logos themselves, aside from Drei, are only semi-competent since they need Aria to steal the artifacts, although this leads to various results. Eins represents the oni and is willing to become as powerful as possible for Aria’s sake. When he discovers Drei’s true motives, he begrudgingly hands Aria to Suguru to protect her, and gets heavily wounded protecting Aria from Drei attempting to kill her. Zwei represents the crow and eats his enemies’ souls after defeating them…at least he would if he didn’t lose every time. Behaves oddly and cranky to everyone else except Aria, where he acts rather calm and collected so he wouldn’t scare her away. Tends to give her dirty toys in the forest as presents. After discovering Drei’s real motives, he takes Aria and nopes the fuck out with Eins and Vier following him.

Vier is the most level-headed of the group and is only working with Logos since Aria not only chose her to become the representation of the snake guardian, but also from a desire to protect Aria from vague memories of leaving a young Suguru behind before being sacrificed for the Onikirimaru. Unlike the others, she’s always been weary of Logos due to how they treat Aria as a messiah figure, and her remembering Suguru, as well as disguising herself as an English teacher, only fueled her hatred for how the Tamyori Princess is treated. After the final battle, she decides to raise Aria herself while occasionally visiting Suguru.

Drei was around during the first Tamayori Princess’ rule. After seeing the oni’s terror on the Gods and his friends, as well as discovering that the princess and oni’s powers were sealed inside the Onikirimaru, he wanted that power for himself since he believes he’s the true ruler that was robbed of his 'fate’. He created Logos to keep track of a German princess who has the abilities to take the sword for him, but up until recently his plans were always thwarted. When he figures out the sword was weakening due to Tamaki and Takuma’s gaining their past incarnation’s abilities, he finally sets his plan into motion. Almost kills Tamaki and Takuma to seal their powers in the sword, but ends up being defeated and killed. Hammy and deliciously evil as fuck of course>:)

Kiyono is Ryo’s only friend and is classmates with Tamaki, often giving her seemingly unimportant advice that later becomes relevant. Is mocked by her peers for her interest in occultic items and legends and usually sells them to make money. She’s 19 due to starting school a year late, but she looks a bit younger and often says she’s around 17-18 to mess with those who make fun of her.

Kiyono works with her boss Masataka at the governmental bureaucracy that overlooks the Tamayori Princess. Masataka created the bureaucracy to deal with the sword his own way and becomes a threat in Hiiro no Kakera 3, where he gets a god complex after discovering an unfinished project from Logos where they created mirrors that act as portals to alternate timelines. Views the guardians as disposable mongrels.

Shizuki Ugaya is the current Tamayori Princess and is training Tamaki so she can take her place. Raised to be willing to sacrifice herself for the sake of protecting the world from danger, she grew up isolated to not form any strong relationships with her guardians. As the Onikirimaru’s seal was weakening over the years, she was initially going to kill herself to seal it, but since she still needed to act as ruler, she reluctantly decided to sacrifice the villagers to keep the swords powers at bay until Tamaki can replace her. She acts cold and distant to others under the belief that she could hide her guilt and crimes long enough after Tamaki succeeds her. When she’s ultimately succeeded, she faces the consequences of drowning civilians.

The main themes for Hiiro no Kakera is how generational trauma effects others and protecting your loved ones by being their for them rather than acting against their wishes.

[cheerfulmint]

Hi there! I'm your new gifter for the FFXIV OC swap! I can really only write things, so I was wondering what could you tell me about Eisa? Like her personality, backstory, more about her relationships, how she takes the MSQ? Anything, really.

I realized I never posted her backstory on the blog, so I'll just answer here. I didn't realize how tragic her story was until I tried to get it in order lol please ignore any spelling issues or inconsistencies. This was typed up on a phone.

Names:

Eisa Lhea (ay-suh lhee) -currently goes by this as an adventurer. Kept the name given by her father, just used a more doman pronunciation. 

Eisa lux Glycias (eye-suh lux g-lye-shus)- name given by her father, and her title

Brief timeline

Born in small village in doma

Raised to be a shrine maiden/ healer (but like, in a Fatal Frame sort of way. She was raised to be sacrificed. This mentally is one of the reasons she is quick to jump into danger to help people. She was always meant to die for the greater good. She still considers that her duty to some extent)

Bad home life/parents

Saved a garlean soldier with healing magic at age 7

Adopted by garlean medicus shortly after, he saw her potential 

Adoptive family is genuinely kind and loving. She has a dad and an older sister 

Graduates academy at 17, becomes a medicus

Dalamud drops when she is 22, loses her adoptive sister at carteneau

Fakes her death to flee to eorzea while keeping her father from being punished for her desertion

Ends up in gridania and stays with the conjurers guild

Becomes a white mage at 25

ARR happens at 26

EW ends at 28

Relationships

Father - Leontinus mal Glycias (missing after destruction of garlemald) a kind man, a doting father to both of his daughters.

Sister - Callais lux Glycias (deceased) only a couple of years older than Eisa, but took her duties as an older sister very seriously. Was eisas first confidant. Used to chase off bullies that targeted her sister. Known for her beauty both inside and out, though she was top of her class and is an incredibly talented engineer. Last seen during the fall of dulamud piloting an experimental magiteck armor. Died protecting her sister.

G'raha Tia- Fell for graha during crystal tower, was going to tell him but he shut himself in the tower before she could. Knew he was the exarch right away. Is trying to get the courage to confess to him as of the end of EW. both would sacrifice themselves for the other without thinking, but actually talking about their feelings is too scary.

Haurchefant - was engaged to be married, and then the vault happened. Decided that her job wasn't really conducive to romance and decided not to fall in love again.

Emet-Selch- felt an inexplicable pull towards him, Azem's feelings towards him are still engraved on her very soul. She eventually was able to learn the difference between Azem's feelings and her own. came to see him as a friend. His death still haunts her. Especially after the events of Ulima Thule 

Zenos - battle buddies, had occasional run ins during academy days growing up. Also still messed up over his death. He had so much potential for good if only he was raised right. Could she have turned out the same if her father never saved her...?

Thancred - drinking buddy, closest friend in the scions

Yda/Lyse - very close as a result of their time in Gridania.

Y'Shtola - will 100% flirt with each other, Eisa absolutely calls her mommy as a joke

The twins - those are her children, has adoption paperwork ready to go the second their father starts his fuckshit. Would kill to keep them safe, absolutely has killed for them after the collar incident in EW. 

Tataru - the only person Eisa says she fears. Also one of her closest friends.

She's generally very close with the scion A team. Is friendly with most of the B team.

Aenor - Eisa is still salty about her comments towards G'raha when he joined the scions. Is noticably cold towards her, even though she knows it's petty.

Gaius - was relatively quick to trust him again. She understands he was doing what he believed to be right and just. Has a bit of a soft spot for him because he reminds her of her own father (in a normal way, not a "daddy issues" way) 

Nero - somehow buddies. Got close during the events of the crystal tower. She's elated to see him everytime he shows up.

Cid - considers him an older brother.

 

She's generally close with all those that defected from garlemald. They meet for drinks once a moon to reminisce about home. 

Personality

As far as most people know she is a woman of few words. Gives off a calm, self-assured vibe. Academically talented, she picks up on new areas of study quickly. Could be an archon, but generally hates sharlayan attitudes. Moves with grace and purpose 

Around those she is closest to, she's a total dork. Super shy when it comes to romance. Always down for a good time. Will attempt to out drink anyone that challenges her. Tends to sing when drunk. Her sense of humor can be confusing to some, she genuinely thinks Urianger and Estinien are the funniest people she's ever met. She's got my AuDHD.

Slow to anger, believes that most people are capable of good. Believes that those who have done wrong deserve the chance to fix their own mistakes. That one can be redeemed after even the most heinous offences if they truly wish to make up for it, even if it takes a lifetime. 

Is terrifying when truly angry. it's an icy, calculating type of anger. The only story events to cause this so far are facing thordan, when the twins were held hostage in EW, and when fake!valens was talking about Solus. Will keep her signature smile on her face when she is angry, it only makes it more unsettling as far as her enemies are concerned. 

[arcane-star]

One thing I feel like people hardly ever talk about in regards to Ōkami is just how dark the game's storyline and lore actually is.

[reinvent-and-believe]

48 from dialogue prompts + 50 from wordless i-love-yous for geraskier?

Dialogue Prompt 48: “You make me want things I can’t have.” Wordless I-love-you 50: buying them a special treat when you go out shopping

--

It catches Geralt’s eye while he haggles over an outrageously priced jar of alchemy paste with a none-too-impressed herbalist on the outskirts of Novigrad, a buxom widow with thick-braided auburn hair by the name of Irmina.

“This for sale too?” He picks up the brooch from the countertop where it rests in a beam of golden light streaming through a dingy window. He examines it. It’s simple enough metalwork, a brass oval with a scalloped edge, but inlaid in its face is a single pressed yellow flower framed by tiny white blooms encased in resin.

The herbalist’s dour demeanour brightens immediately. “It is indeed!” she answers, her brown eyes shining in a plump, suddenly pleasant face. “Made it myself just last week. It’s something of a hobby of mine, making pretty knick-knacks from the flowers we can’t sell. Got plenty more like this if you’d like to peruse ‘em, master witcher! Forget-me-nots and arenaria, hellebore, violets, any flower you might like.”

A buttercup, he realizes belatedly. That’s the yellow flower in the center.

“No.” He sees Irmina’s brow furrow in offense, so he hastens to appease her. “No need, I’ll take this one. I...I’m partial to buttercups.”

Her freckled face breaks into a sly, knowing smile. “Oh, aye, I’m sure someone is partial to buttercups.” She winks, waving away his stammered attempts at an answer. “Never you mind, I know a man besotted when I see one, and it seems a witcher’s not so different. Tell you what. Fifty crowns for the paste and I’ll throw the brooch in for only ten.”

-

Leaving the herbalist’s shop with an overpriced paste, a lighter purse, and a useless trinket, Geralt curses himself for a fool.

He’s not sure why he bought it.

He knows buttercups are Jaskier’s favorite, of course. “None but the noblest of flowers for my sobriquet!” Jaskier had squawked indignantly when Geralt once made the grave mistake of referring to the pesky things as weeds after he’d stopped Roach from chomping on a patch of the bright, poisonous blooms.

They are weeds, buttercups. They serve no function. They can’t be used in any of the potions, decoctions, or oils Geralt brews, nor do they have any particularly helpful curative properties for humans.

“As ever, my dear witcher, you have no sense of poetry,” Jaskier had sighed in a most put-upon voice when told as much. “Their function is they’re pretty. Their function is to enrich our lives through the beauty of the natural world.” He’d looked to the sky, tip of his tongue between his teeth showing through his frown as was his custom when puzzling through the right way to turn a phrase. “From a strictly utilitarian perspective, perhaps the buttercup has less value than, say, moleyarrow, or verbena, or chamomile, even. Some plants provide nutritional or medicinal or alchemical qualities of various sorts. But some exist to make life worth living! To transform the banal into the sublime.” He’d plucked a buttercup from the roadside, twirling it between his long fingers. “It’s graceful and balanced, effortlessly beautiful. It’s vibrant, bright like...like sunlight, on a summer afternoon! And when you see it growing alongside the various and sundry flora, it fills you with the loveliest burst of warmth, like a lover’s smile.”

“So...it’s a pretty weed.”

“You’re incorrigible, witcher, that’s what you are.” Jaskier had huffed dramatically before tucking the buttercup behind Geralt’s ear, his face alight with a delighted grin.

Like sunlight on a summer afternoon.

-

The Kingfisher Inn is crowded when Geralt arrives. He goes to the bar, orders an ale from Olivier, and leans against the counter to take a look at the stage.

Jaskier loves playing the Kingfisher. In many of the inns he plays across the Continent, he’s relegated to a corner to try to sing over the clang of dinner, his only option to win the common folk over a raucous drinking song or a filthy ditty. And while the bard doesn’t shy away from such vulgarities, the patrons of the Kingfisher tend to be of a more artistically inclined ilk, responding with appropriate gusto to the virtuosic art songs that he rarely performs outside of competitions or Oxenfurt.

Or so he’d explained to Geralt when he’d suggested they meet up at the inn.

Jaskier sits atop a tall stool on a rather large stage framed by crimson curtains, his sky-blue doublet a vivid contrast. The audience, enraptured, listens to his ballad, a melancholy tale of a fair maiden who’s violently killed before she can profess her love to a farmhand in her village, a beautiful, strong, kind man whose hair shines like a blaze of pale fire in the sunlight. Her love for him tethers her to this world, and her spirit—bitter, weary, and endlessly yearning—calls the men working in the fields to join her dance at midday, when the sun is in its zenith, hoping against hope for the chance to finally confess to her beloved.

In the end, the brave, noble farmhand sacrifices himself, hoping to stop the spirit’s killings by listening to her song and joining her as she beckons. And as they are reunited, as she finally kisses the lips she’s longed for in a blinding blaze of sunlight, they pass on together, their spirits becoming one.

It’s a contract Geralt worked a few years ago, a noonwraith outside Oreton—or at least something close. As ever, Jaskier has taken artistic liberties, romanticized the actual events (“Sometimes, in our pursuit of Truth, we must sacrifice the facts,” Jaskier loftily explained on more than one occasion. He seemed quite taken with the profundity he seemed to find in the statement. Geralt called it pretentious once and Jaskier hurled a chunk of bread at his head). Once it might have bothered Geralt, but he’s grown accustomed to Jaskier’s rather malleable relationship with veracity in his ballads. There’s no denying the impact of his storytelling: when Geralt glances around the inn, he sees several patrons discreetly dabbing at their eyes.

It’d been an ugly case, leaving him feeling empty, drained. Noonwraiths haunt his thoughts far longer than most the monsters he dispatches. They’re victims of circumstance more than anything, young women who’ve been transformed into bloodthirsty, violent spirits through no fault of their own, through the violence inflicted upon them. Nearly forty men had fallen prey to her before the farmhand distracted her with his kiss—though Geralt would hesitate to classify his grotesque, gruesome sacrifice as such—so the witcher had a chance to strike her down with silver. Jaskier has spun the miserable tale into something beautiful, moving, something that clearly resonates with his captivated audience, that speaks to a greater force at work than the chaotic, banal evils the witcher sees every day, and Geralt thinks he understands, for a moment, what the bard had told him of Truth and facts.

(Geralt doesn’t know what greater Truth is served by changing the beloved farmhand’s hair from the dull brown it really was to “a blaze of pale fire,” but then, Geralt’s not a poet.)

The final notes hang in the air, all eyes fixed on Jaskier for a rapt, breathless moment before the room bursts into wild applause. Jaskier stands and bows deeply, once, twice, a third time, surveying the room as he offers his thanks. When his gaze catches Geralt at the bar, his expression of showman’s grace vanishes, a flash of something that looks almost alarmed for a split second before it’s replaced by a small, gentle smile.

Geralt nods and raises his mug toward the stage in cheers, draining the remainder. Jaskier is quickly swept into the swarm of captivated fans, accepting their praises with a gracious, if distracted, smile.

The witcher turns back to the barkeep to order himself another ale along with a glass of wine.

“Geralt!” Jaskier swerves to avoid a near-collision with a frenzied barmaid on his way to join his companion at the bar. He grabs the wine glass with a groan of appreciation, taking a swig before asking, “Is this for me? Gods, but you’re a marvel, darling, I thank you.” He takes another sip and sends a disarming, roguish wink to a pair of girls staring at him and giggling to each other. “I wasn’t sure when you’d arrive, but it wouldn’t have mattered, I suppose, they only had one room to let when I checked in and it hasn’t cleared out since. You’ll share mine, of course, but I’ve been here a week so, you know, best brace yourself, I’ve quite made the place my own.”

Geralt snorts. He’s stayed in enough rooms that Jaskier has made his own over the past decade to predict with some certainty what mess he’ll soon venture into.

(Doublets draped over furniture after they’ve been discarded; crumpled sheets of paper tossed near, never in the fireplace; a few near-empty bottles of wine; a shirt hung to dry over the modesty screen between the sleeping and bathing areas; bottles of a dozen oils and perfumes and soaps scattered haphazard near the tub; an unmade bed that may well contain an abandoned undergarment or forgotten stocking left by some well-satisfied guest.)

“Have you eaten? Shall we? I’m starved, felt jittery all afternoon and didn’t eat a damned thing which was all well and good until I got onstage and suddenly wished for a fainting couch. Or we could take your things up to the room first, of course. Oh! We could have them bring our dinner up to us, it’s awfully crowded down here tonight and I’m not sure I’m up to socializing all evening, to be honest, I’ve been dreadfully out of sorts, did you notice, Geralt, that I’ve…”

Jaskier continues his ramblings, and the witcher can’t help a twinge of worry for his friend. It’s not unheard of for Jaskier to be in a heightened state over a particularly important performance, but usually afterwards the nerves dissipate and he seems more himself. Not to mention, why would playing in an inn prompt such anxieties? Even if the Kingfisher clientele trends toward the more refined than the country folk he often plays for, it’s still rather a low-stakes environment to trigger such stress.

“New song?” he asks casually. Jaskier always beams when he notices such things, when he makes an effort to ask about his music.

Instead, Jaskier blushes, looking away with an expression that almost seems guilty. “Ah, yes, well, I wasn’t certain when you’d be arriving, of course, I thought I might try out something different, a sort of test audience, as it were, to feel out the piece before I use it for anything important.” The look he’s fixed on Geralt seems almost wary. “Did you...like the song?”

Geralt shrugs. “Not quite how it happened,” he grumbles, out of habit more than anything.

A smile, genuine and rueful, breaks out on Jaskier’s face. “Gods, I’ve missed you, my friend,” he says, shaking his head and looking away quickly.

“Hmm.” He reaches quickly into the coin pouch at his side, thrusting the trinket from the herbalist into Jaskier’s hand with a brusque, “Here.”

“Whatever have we got…” He cuts off as opens his palm. “Oh.”

There have been so few times over the years that Geralt has seen Jaskier speechless that he begins to worry he’s offended him. He turns the brooch over in his hands, once, twice, his thumb swiping gently over its smooth enamel face. He doesn’t look up.

Even in the crowded room, Geralt can smell the shift in his demeanor, the muted sickly-sweet anxious smell becoming something sharp, metallic, pained, like he’s been stabbed. “You’re upset.”

“I...no.” Jaskier shoves the brooch into his trouser pocket, a tense smile on his face, not at all reaching his eyes. “Thank you, Geralt, it’s lovely. Shall we take your bags to the room now?”

“I didn’t...I didn’t get it to upset you.”

Jaskier laughs, a broken thing, and Geralt grows even more alarmed. “You didn’t, it isn’t that, sometimes I want things I can’t have is all.” He grabs the saddlebag sitting at Geralt’s feet, not meeting his eyes as he rushes past him up the stairs to the last bedroom in the hall.

Geralt follows after a moment, giving his companion a respectful distance. There’s a tightness in his shoulders, a knot in his gut that only grows as he watches Jaskier’s hand tremble on the key as he unlocks the door.

It was a stupid idea. He knew it was stupid when he bought it, yet he bought it anyway, somehow ruined everything anyway.

“Here we are.” Jaskier’s voice is filled with a forced cheer as he sets the bag down, hand never leaving the doorknob. “I’ll go fetch us some supper. Or, actually, you know, now that I think of it, I’ve a few errands to run before it gets too late, meant to do it earlier but you know how it goes, lost track of time…”

“Jaskier.” Geralt moves toward him but stops himself, helpless. “Please. I’m sorry I upset you.”

Jaskier stands in the doorway for another moment. He takes a deep breath, closes the door, and walks slowly to the writing desk in the corner. He pulls the chair out, moving the doublet strewn across it before sitting. He doesn’t look at Geralt.

“You didn’t.” Every word is calculated, deliberate. “What kind of ungrateful wretch gets upset over...over an exceptionally thoughtful gift from a friend after a time apart?”

Geralt sits on the edge of the bed. His elbows rest on his knees, fingers locking together as he stares at the floor. “You’re not a wretch. The fault is mine.”

“Dammit, Geralt, there isn’t fault, I only—why did you bring me a gift?”

Geralt frowns. “I’ve bought you things before,” he says slowly.

“Things, yes!” Jaskier vaults from the chair, pacing listlessly about the room, no longer trying to mask his inexplicable distress. “Lute strings when I broke a string and I was low on coin. The lute is my livelihood, it made financial sense for you to replace the string so I could pull my own weight, help you when we pass through several towns in a row with no contracts. Boots when you noticed the hole in the heel of my old pair, because I slow you down limping about in footwear that’s falling apart. Room and board, sometimes, because you know I’m good for it, I’ll cover you the next time.” He’s stopped pacing, stares silent into the fireplace.

“Wasn’t keeping a tab.” Geralt’s voice is quiet. “You needed strings and boots and food and a room.”

Jaskier doesn’t turn to face him, but Geralt sees his hand slip into his pocket, pull out the brooch. His head bends, studying it.

He’s not offended or annoyed or angered by the gift. He’s hurt. But why?

Except...

Jaskier looked guilty when Geralt brought up the song. Like he’d been caught red-handed. Did you like it? he’d asked. Incredulous.

The noonwraith singing her song in hopes that her beloved hears her confession. That he’ll hear her song of longing and come to her.

Hair like a blaze of pale fire, not dull brown.

Sometimes I want things I can’t have.

“Geralt?”

The witcher snaps back to attention, eyes fixed on Jaskier, finally facing him.

“Why did you get it for me, Geralt?”

Geralt frowns. “It’s...pretty,” he starts lamely. “I thought you might wear it when you play. You wear gaudy things.”

Jaskier snorts, a small, crooked grin on his lips.

“It made me think of you,” he confesses quietly, his eyes tracing the wood grain of the floor. “Sometimes...things don’t have to have a function. It was a buttercup and it was pretty and it…made me think of you.”

When Geralt dares to raise his eyes, Jaskier’s staring at him, brows drawn together and mouth slightly agape. After a moment, he walks toward the witcher, sitting carefully beside him on the bed. He reaches his hand towards Geralt’s and presses the little brooch into his palm.

“Will you pin it on me?” he asks softly.

Geralt nods.

His fingers feel thick and clumsy as he fumbles with the delicate clasp. The top few buttons of Jaskier’s doublet, as ever, are undone, but it closes neatly just beneath his exposed neck. Geralt slips a finger beneath the satin fabric to pull it away from his throat, cautiously piercing the fabric with the thin pin and sliding it into its slot, locking the clasp with shaking hands.

His hand doesn’t move from Jaskier’s chest. A sword-calloused thumb, seemingly of its own volition, grazes lightly over the bobbing Adam’s apple.

“Geralt.”

He looks up, almost pulls away but for the flushed cheeks, the tongue that darts out to wet pink lips, the hooded eyes beneath dark lashes fixed on Geralt’s mouth. Jaskier’s breath is warm against his face. When did they draw so close?

“Are you going to kiss me, Geralt?” The breathy whisper is laced with wonder.

And he didn’t...didn’t buy the brooch to entice Jaskier into anything, didn’t mean to solicit any sort of reward, and he opens his mouth to tell him so, yet as his rough hand moves to gently cup the back of Jaskier’s neck the words that tumble out instead are, “I’d like to.”

And Jaskier throws back his head and laughs, a euphoric, intoxicated sound, as his lovely hands cradle Geralt’s face. He brings his forehead to rest against Geralt’s as they still, breathing each other for a moment before Jaskier surges forward to capture his lips.

His kiss tastes like sunlight.

[lepusrufus]

Random question for all the Dimitrescus and maidens also M&M, if given the chance to see their parents/family without affecting their lives as it is, would they take it?

Oooh this is gonna be a big one but I love it since I'm yet to explore a little more the pasts of some characters, both ocs and when it comes to hcs. Also, a general warning since some of them have had quite abusive families so reader's discretion is advised.

Starting off with Alcina, she may want to see her family out of pure spite. I'm yet to have a more in depth hc for her past, but maybe she didn't have the best family life despite being nobility. She was not only a woman but also ill so safe to assume she wasn't seen as the imposing figure she is today, which led to the castle and everything else that should've been hers being inherited by other "more worthy" family members. She then gets back all of that through Miranda and there's nothing Alcina would like nothing more than to laugh in the face of all those who thought of her as hopeless and weak while showing off not only her successful business and position of power, but also her loving family that grew with the following decades.

Now for the daughters, it's more of an alternative scenario in which they remember their pasts, because they never truly do even after reading Miranda's files on that. Also there's the hc I wrote on it that may give you some context.

Bela would much rather run for the hills than face her family again. Well, that's technically what she did back in the day, when she decided that she couldn't take her parents punishments caused by the mere fact that she was alive in their home and decided to become part of Miranda's cult. Which is how she ended up as a gift for Alcina together with her sisters. It's actually very likely that she ran into them at one point or another after that, given the fact that they're from there, but without being able to actually remember them she was only left with an odd sense of dread.

Cassandra was actually one of the few that had quite a good family and would likely want to see them again if given the opportunity (not that she would ever tell anyone). Her parents were heartbroken after she disappeared during their vacation in Transylvania and even moved there hoping that one day their daughter would show up. I think they'd be quite happy to know that despite everything, Cassandra ended up having a good life even without them.

Daniela would want to see her family but would probably end up with an even bigger heartbreak than when she was given to Miranda as what was essentially a sacrifice to ensure they stay on the goddess' good side. She hardly holds grudges and would try to rationalize that maybe they had some kind of reasoning before being proven that no, they're just pieces of shit.

Esteria is in a similar boat with Bela. After four whole decades of living in her family's little crazy cult, that included a fair share of manipulation and punishments, a forced marriage that ended up in a miscarriage, and then having to play babysitter while being ostracized left her wanting to have absolutely nothing to do with her old family. She would happily see their heads on spikes if given the chance.

Laura would bawl her eyes out at the opportunity to see her parents as she had the misfortune of being the accidental cause of their deaths when she was nine. Wanting to help her father out with the garden scraps tuned in an out of control fire that killed them and left Laura in the Village's orphanage before becoming Donna's apprentice a handful of years later.

Nicole would only want to see her brother Alex because he's the only family member that she could say loved her, despite their weird way of showing affection to each other that could be summed up with finding the cheapest and strongest vodka from the grocery store and getting blackout drunk in the attic. Her mother was always passive to the fact that their father would beat them on a regular basis and, to Nicole, that was almost worse than if she had decided to join in. Her father gets the good old Dimitrescu treatment later on, with a one way ticket to the dungeons and the torture devices.

Anita would be very on the fence about it. Sure her parents may end up accepting some of her life choices because she's well off now, but they completely miss the point where she has a family that genuinely loves her and not some weird version of her that they made up in their heads. In the end she'd just decide that she's better off without them. But she would love to see her grandparents again, being the ones that actually let her be herself during her vacations at their house (grandma even tried to teach her how to hunt).

Miranda would avoid her family at all costs. In my AU the whole reason behind her becoming a nun was to get away from them and her insufferable sister. She only ends up back at home after being kicked out due to her questionable practices and figures out that at the very least Eva, who she now calls her daughter no questions asked, should have a home while she figures out where to go.

Mia actually gets back in touch with her parents and it becomes the epitome of a paranormal romcom, yes that's canon to the AU i take no criticism. Her parents don't know about the whole Village and Moldy evil fungus god and Mia wants to keep it that way. As far as they're aware, Mia and Miranda lead a happy life in Vienna with their two daughters and cat Leopold.

[askthewvba]

Hippo Island Culture 101 (Crash Course)

Everything you’d never think to ask! 🤪

First off! Hippo Island actually refers to multiple smaller islands surrounding a larger landmass. The King Hippo has one of these smaller islands all for islands all for himself while the larger island is occupied by his people and the other smaller islands are each used for their own special occasions.

🍍Characteristics

Hippoans are human beings. Despite their intimidating and foreign appearance (and lack of noses) they are just as human as the rest of the Punch Out cast with their own language, culture, history and struggles. Just to get that out of the way immediately! While it is commonly believed that King Hippo is kind of a kind, that's simply not the case!

The Hippoans do all just be Built Different! All Hippoans are heavy naturally, and the heavier you are the more healthy and desirable you’re seen in their society. Having especially chubby children or a chubby spouse signals to other Hippoans that you’re a generous person and they know whose hut to visit at dinner time! There are rare exceptions to this rule but big is the bar set and big is beautiful.

This weight does come at a price however. Hippoans are so heavy with all of their heft and dense bones that they are completely incapable of swimming. Hippoans will sink like a rock!!! This has lead to most of them being absolutely petrified of the sea. Traveling from island to island is fine because the water between the smaller islands is typically not enough to drown in and otherwise is only a short ride by boat away. Traveling any farther than the lands governed by King Hippo is out of the question, and King Hippo is seen as indisputably courageous for traveling to the Mainland regularly. If a Hippoan falls from the boat they must be rescued and pulled back aboard immediately or face certain death by drowning. There’s no recovering a sunken Hippoan. They will simply never be seen again.

The dark part of a Hippoan’s face actually isn’t a mask or facial marking, but rather a natural indent on their face! This indentation and their thick fleshy eyebrows are protection against the harsh sun on Hippo Island.

The skin of a Hippoan is thicker and more resilient than that of a non-Hippoan. It’ll bruise like any other and Hippoans will bleed like anyone else, though it tends to be just a bit harder to take them down with the usual means like sharp objects. They are built different and are built to take a ton of damage. That being said, their tummies are always a weakness without exception. Why this is as of yet unclear, but a blow to the stomach is so potent of an attack that when struck there a Hippoan is absolutely thrown for a loop. It’s like a complete system reset, going unconscious and often waking up disoriented and confused.

We also haven’t discovered why they evolved to not have noses, but it is suspected their sense of smell works like snakes. Rather than flicking out their tongues however it may be that they are smelling when breathing through their teeth.

🥥Names

Names don’t exist in the traditional sense on Hippo Island. Your name is typically your job, but even then there’s a bit more to it than that.

King Hippo was born Hippo Heir IV, as he was a potential heir to his father's throne along with at least five other siblings. When he dethroned his Father, who was then called King Hippo, his son took the title of King Hippo from him for himself.

Toddy is a nickname bestowed on him by King Hippo’s friend and personal translator, as it’s a name for Coconut Wine. This is a reference to the fact that his mother, King Hippo’s wife, was a brewer before she became Queen Hippo. Toddy would be known to his mother as “son” or “Coconut Son”, and had a collection of other names and titles over the years before he became generally known and accepted as Prince Hippo, most prominently “Coconut Servant”. Coconut in this case is used as an identifier to separate him from the other servants King Hippo used to have alongside Toddy. It was originally due to his haircut resembling a halved coconut.

Queen Hippo still prefers her ‘maiden title’ Coconut Brewer. To King Hippo she is Wife, to her he is Husband. Despite her elevated status she still goes to work as a Brewer every day, and it’s in being a Brewer that she’s nicknamed her children after her favorites fruits to ferment. Her son is Coconut Son, meanwhile…

Her daughters are Pineapple Daughters, Pineapple Princesses, and before King Hippo and Coconut Brewer got married they were known to the villagers as Shell Collectors. They are nicknamed Tepache and Neerah by King Hippo’s translator for convenience. The translator tried to nickname every Hippoan she’d ever met.

Other examples include the Ferryman, who simply goes by Ferryman along with a few other nicks, the Weavers (Elder Weaver, Loving Weaver, and Mischievous Weaver/also known as “Silkie”; three generations of Weavers), Lone Builder who is married to Loving Weaver, Boar Herder (“Tusk”), and Chicken Herder (“Drumstick”).

There are also unfavorable monikers for the less reputable villagers. Hippo Island is generally a peaceful, crime-free community, however there are a few outliers at any given time who serve as exceptions to this. The only noteworthy one who you may come to know is a hunter, formerly Ferocious Hunter, who is now widely known as “Bonehead”.

After losing his title of King Hippo, his father would go on to be known as “The Loathsome One”.

Related to names, “One” serves as a replacement pronoun for “I” and “me”.

King Hippo: Needs no introduction. He is simply This One. Used to refer to himself as ‘this hopeful one’ and ‘this victorious one’.

Toddy: This dutiful one.

Brewer: This hardy one. She too now has the credence to call herself This One.

🍌Jobs

Jobs are normally determined by the work already in the family, but there’s normally no shame in changing career paths. A Weaver Daughter could decide to be a Warrior. A Builder Son could decide to become a Craftsman or a Child Caregiver.

Brewer was originally a warrior in training during her youth, before deciding she wanted less to do with the battles and more to do with the merrymaking and celebration that comes afterwards. Toddy was a fire dancer for the better part of his teen years, but due to circumstances in his life decided he wanted to be a warrior.

Staying within your family’s line of work is a safe way to live since you’re surrounded by seasoned veterans of that skill set, but by no means are you limited to work within your bloodline. While everyone’s personality is different, most Hippoans are happy to teach.

Children of Hippo Island are usually given menial tasks, like collecting shells, to both prepare them for adult life and to educate them on the barter and trade system that Hippoans operate under by having them trade their trinkets with other children.

🌋Faith

The elements are Gods and Goddesses, plain and simple. The Volcano Gods must be appeased regularly and the Gods of the Deep must be respected and feared at all cost.

While all of their Gods command respect, each family tends to put higher value on different Gods in accordance to their job, and these families are at the forefront of all celebrations relating to these deities. The Ferryman, King Hippo and Toddy stand alone when celebrating the Gods of the Deep.

🏝Customs

This is a bit of a Work in Progress, but we do know their romantic customs. 🥰

Interest in one another is expressed through flower crowns and chains. There’s an entire color language when offering flowers with some signifying friendship, gratitude, or condolences. For simplicity’s sake we’ll focus on three such cases however.

Pink flowers are used when first pursuing another Hippoan that they fancy. It is the general color of a new love or infatuation.

Red flowers are a more passionate form of love and serve as making a much bolder statement. Typically you want to avoid these when you’re merely confessing your interest in another person, as red flowers are most commonly used in marriage proposals.

For extra points one may want to include their intended’s favorite flowers or flower of their favorite color to show consideration and a more genuine interest in who they are.

When offering the Infatuation Flowers, there’s not much fanfare involved. Simply get your loved one alone and ask if they’ll accept it. If yes, they’ll wear it on their head or around their neck. If you’re showing your feelings to a Hippoan and they reject you, they might just eat the flowers. A rude rejection will involve stomping on the flowers to snuff out the affections entirely.

Offering Proposal Flowers has a lot more symbolism, especially if, say, you’re King Hippo. When King Hippo proposed to his wife, he knelt before her and held his flowers for her up over his head. Slowly he lowered his head to bow to her until the crown fell from his head and rolled over towards her feet. Bowing is apart of every Hippoan proposal, but the Hippoan royalty exemplify it’s importance. Your intended is someone who you place above yourself, you humble yourself before them, and you sacrifice the symbol of your pride by allowing your crown to fall off. For commoners the practice is still meaningful, as it means you see your significant other as someone worthy of being royalty, as they are the only person other than your actual King/Queen who you would bow to.

Arranged Marriages used to be somewhat commonplace until some short time ago, when it was realized that matchmaking was a largely imperfect practice. It has always been preferred that either marriage occurred out of love, or when the arranged marriage elevated the family by means of having a relative become betrothed to Hippo Royalty. Nowadays marriages outside of love are met with scrutiny and discomfort and harems are completely out of the question. (Though that’s not to say our King Hippo hasn’t laid with a few Hippoan ladies before tying the knot with his wife… that just wasn’t their status in the hierarchy and wasn’t apart of their naming scheme.)

When Hippoans pass away, they are given a funeral similar to that of the Vikings, though without the fire. Hippoans don’t have the land and therefore the luxury of burying their dead, nor would they consider cremating them. Instead the dead are placed inside specially made boats, sealed inside with flowers and trinkets from the deceased’s family, and after a small service full of mournfully singing Hippoans, they are pushed out to sea to appease their ocean deities. Unlike the boats that serve the living on their journeys, these boats are designed to eventually capsize and sink.

Hippoans… don’t really have the capacity to speak in other foreign tongues. Not very clearly at least. King Hippo actually does speak some English if you listen closely, but even then it’s very difficult to fully understand.

Hippoans are called such for a reason. Their growls and deep bellows are reminiscent of a hippo, though their language and variants of it cover a wide range of other animals as well.

Child Hippoans typically sound like bear cubs whereas infants sound almost froglike. Some Hippoans have even been known to sound like elephants. Hippoan singing, as mentioned in a previous post, sounds like a mix of throat singing and a chorus of bull frogs.

There are words formed under all of these animalistic noises and these words can be learned, but few take the time. Until our King Hippo, the Hippoans were widely forgotten about by the rest of the world. Even now tourism to Hippo Island is very carefully limited by the King himself.

👑Becoming King

There’s a ton of Hippoan history being omitted here to spare time. What you need to know is that due to a change for the worse over time, in order to become King or Queen (or Sovereign depending on your identity) you would need to defeat the ruler of that time in a fight, one that strongly resembles boxing. Normally to postpone that from happening, the ruler would sire a multitude of children via a harem (or their spouse should they have one; our last King Hippo did not), and then those children would be trained to eventually do battle with one another for the right to take on their parent.

Upon meeting defeat the siblings would depart from the islands by boat, presumably to never be seen again. Same was the fate of The Loathsome One when his son dethroned him. As the new King he could have done away with the banishment tradition if he desired, but due to the damage callously caused by Loathsome (and the assumed loss of his family) it was decided he deserved no mercy. King Hippo would have executed him, but he wanted to herald in a new age for the Hippoan people that saw an end to violence and needless bloodshed.

[the-historywhore]

The Joining of a Warrior and his Shieldmaiden.

M!Eivor X F!Reader

This was requested by myself because I’ve got the hots for Viking weddings. Also, lemme know if you want a smutty Part 2 ;)

Warnings: Animal sacrifice, mentions of blood.

—————————

Today was the day, a warm day in midsummer - a Friday, it was the morn of your wedding day. You were ushered by the married women of the clan into the village bathhouse. Your circlet, a symbol of virginity, and maiden clothes were removed and placed in a box for you and your husband’s future daughter.

You bathed in steaming water, and finishing the cleansing process in a cold bath. You were ready to be dressed in your best dress. The most important of a Viking bride’s look was her hair and her crown, so the women of the village took great pride in putting a plethora of braids and intricate patterns into your hair. Finally, a flower crown was placed on your head. It was now time for you to join your future husband in front of the Gothi.

~~~~

You joined hands with Eivor, he looked even more handsome in the midsummer sunlight. His hair in warrior braids, even his beard was braided. He was wearing quite a simple blue tunic, with his usual trousers. Eivor’s intricate tattos were visible on his forearms, and as I hooked my arm through his to look upon the faces of our friends and family, I knew there was no one else I would rather have by my side than him.

The Gothi held a book in hand, he used Eivor’s hammer to call upon Thor, those in Asgard and Valheim - all the gods and goddesses of our people, to bring blessings on our marriage. We thanked the gods and goddesses of our people for the gifts they bestowed upon us and asked that they continue to bestow gifts upon us. The Gothi held a drinking horn up to the heavens, offering the mead we had slaved over to the many deities we worshipped.

Then, came our moment. The Gothi used a branch to flick the blood from a sow that had been sacrificed that morning over Eivor and myself, then calling upon the gods to witness our marriage.

I turned to Eivor, as he did to I. He drew his sword, and my witness - Signe, passed my sword to me. Eivor and I passed each other our swords. He smiled at me, knowing what was next. The Gothi took our rings, holding them against his holy book.

“The couple will now say their vows,”

Eivor said his first, as is custom.

“My Beautiful Y/N, all of these years I’ve believed that the Gods have been testing me in ways, seeing if I am a worthy fighter. But now, I realise that they weren’t testing my worthiness as a fighter, but they were testing me for whether I am worthy of your love. I still don’t quite see why the gods have blessed me with your love, but I am thankful for you, every day. I love you, this is my oath to love, worship, and stand by your side into the heavens.”

His words made you tear up, Eivor was know to have a way with words - and now it was your turn.

“Eivor, my handsome and brave Eivor. I have always felt like something was missing from my life, a missing piece. Yet, when I met you, everything seemed to slot into place. My life made sense, I had something to fight for. And so, this is my oath to you, I promise to love you, cherish you, and stand by your side into the heavens”

Next, the Gothi held our arms together and bound us to our oaths. We placed rings on each other’s fingers.

And now, the final part. Eivor’s family gathered beside him, and my family gathered beside me - then they faced to the longhouse, for the feast was now to begin.

~~~~

“Are you happy, wife?” Eivor asked me, sipping the wedding ale from the lovers cup. He leant into me, and I replied:

“Happier than ever, Husband.”

He then kissed me, our first kiss as Husband and Wife.

Taglist: @creedsubmarine

[p-artsypants]

P-Artsypants Fic Masterpost!

This information is always available on my blog. 

Find most, if not more, of these fics on:

Fanfiction.net | Archive of Our Own | Wattpad

(~AU’s, *Finished, ❤️Author’s Favorites)

Kingdom Hearts

~❤️Rage Awakened AO3 | FF.net- Ten years ago, Terra, Aqua, and Ventus lost their fellow apprentice, Sora, in Deep Jungle. Now, they are to return with two new students, Riku and Kairi, to lock the heart of the world. All the while, something watches from the trees. Feral!Sora AU

My Kingdom for a Heart AO3 | FF.Net - The curse of being one of the Princesses of heart, is that there’s always someone out to get you. As Xemnas looked failure in the face, he reached out in a last ditch effort and destroyed Kairi’s heart. Now her friends must travel the worlds again. Sora, to find a way to recover Kairi’s heart, and Riku, to make amends to those he has wronged. All the while, the darkness grows. [Unfinished, on permanent hiatus]

Miraculous Ladybug

One Shots

*❤️Amalgam- When an young man is rejected for being ‘incompatible’ he turns into the akuma ‘Amalgam’ able to fuse two people together. And later Adrien and Marinette would debate if it was lucky or unlucky that they got hit. (Also Available in Russian)

*Sing We All Noel- After receiving the worst Christmas present ever from his father, Chat Noir finds himself out on the streets with nowhere to go on Christmas Eve. Thankfully, Ladybug finds him and brings him home.

*Speechless- In a world where everyone has a soulmark, the first words their soulmate will say to them, Marinette is born without one. But Adrien Agreste has two. Curious, considering he’s mute.

*❤️Tunnels of Love- The night started out with an accidental kiss from Adrien Agreste, and ended with her bleeding in the Catacombs of Paris. Ladybug, the wielder of the miraculous of good luck. Yeah right. (Some blood)

*The Reveal That Wasn’t- First Parts My ending to kittybug’s Tumblr Prompt

*What A Mess We’re In- Ladybug has a lot on her mind, and when Chat Noir bugs her enough, she tells him she’s going to confess to her Crush, Adrien Agreste. Chat’s reaction is not what she’s expecting.

*Oblivi-oh no! - A retelling of Oblivio, except Ladybug is the only one to lose her memory. How will Chat deal?

*Bad Day (3 chapters) - Marinette was Ladybug! This was Adrien’s luckiest day ever! Except it wasn’t, because all his good luck was used up in one go. Turns out this might be the worst day of his life.

*One Win, So Many Losses- Marinette was forced to break up with Adrien. It had been a low blow from Gabriel, to be sure. But she was Ladybug. She’d find a solution…right? An alternate ending to Chat Blanc, where Adrien doesn’t Cataclysm the akuma.

*❤️Five Minutes- Gabriel has had enough of all these girls fighting over Adrien. He decides it’s high time Adrien picks one, and arranges the perfect opportunity for him to do so. Each candidate has five minutes to present why they’d be a good girlfriend. Marinette decides to take this opportunity to shoot her shot.

~*Panache- Every eligible maiden was invited to the Prince’s ball. That included Marinette, scullery maid in her own household. But her stepsisters destroyed her dress, and she can’t go to the ball in rags. Or can she? (Cinderella!AU)

*Perfect, No Matter What-In which Gabriel sets the bar even lower for himself, a reveal happens because of pain medication, and the new guardian actually goes to Chloé for advice.

*Crushed- Stuck under a collapsed building together, Chat Noir and Marinette have a heart to heart.

*Lovelace- Convinced that he's unlovable, Adrien is quickly thrown for a loop when Marinette confesses her love for him out of the blue. An akumatization and reveal later, he changes his mind about being unlovable.

Long Fics

*❤️Longest Night- (FF.net | Ao3) - The day started out sucky to begin with. Her crush ousted to the class and Adrien. Lila taking pride in exacting her revenge. But by the time patrol was over, a young man was dead, and Ladybug’s identity was at risk. Lila was the least of her concerns. Good thing Adrien was taking it all like a champ. (Rated M for scenes of torture)

*❤️Nine Lives- (FF.net) When Adrien Agreste is scheduled to go to a Military School in Germany, Chat Noir must make a critical decision. Does he give up his Miraculous? Or does he give up his life as Adrien? I’ll save you the trouble of guessing, he gives up being Adrien.

*Tender Words- When Marinette finally gets the guts to confess her feelings for Adrien, some things go so wrong, and other things go so right.

*Integrity- Overwhelmed with her responsibilities, guilt, and drama, Marinette has an emotional breakdown in front of everyone, and even hands over her earrings in a moment of weakness. Only for a few seconds, but the damage was done. Adrien’s pretty quick on the uptake like that.

~Much Obliged- Everyone deals with grief differently. Some take to drinking, others devote themselves to charity. Adrien Agreste? Well, he became a cowboy. Marinette Dupain-Cheng is a witch, one of very few in the world. She knows what it’s like to be doubted, and assumed delusional. Maybe that’s why they got along so well. Or maybe it’s just because they both like big hats. AU where everything is the same, except instead of superheroes, Adrien is a Cowboy and Marinette is a witch. (Unfinished) (Based on a AU by @bugaboo-n-bananoir)

*I’ll Handle This- “I’ll solve all your problems,” Plagg had said. “You just have to agree to it.” A fixed relationship with his father, Lila to stop bothering him, and Ladybug to fall in love with him? Who wouldn’t agree to that? Except Plagg was the God of Destruction and Chaos and had a more…hands-on approach. Adrien just wants his body back. (Body swap fic)

The Ghost of Smokey Joe- Adrien Agreste was acting bizarre. Stilted body language, plastic smile, and he seemed to have forgotten how close they were. Before she can get the truth out of him, Marinette finds herself as the sole heir to the Gabriel brand and the mansion, following the murder-suicide of both Adrien and Gabriel Agreste. The mystery continues as Tikki explains that Adrien was Chat Noir...but if Adrien is six feet under, why is Chat Noir still running around?

How To Train Your Dragon

One Shots

The Vikings Have Their Tea (FF.Net | AO3)

Arranged Marriage- Takes place at the beginning of HTTYD

❤️Breathe- Survival of the fittest

~Childhood Friends- At the Sandbox

❤️Easy Fix- In which Hiccup has a bad day

~Fashion Designer- Astrid needs a fill in

❤️Frozen- In Which Astrid takes a Dip and things get frisky (Rated M)

❤️Headache- In Which Hiccup hits his head….really hard

❤️Heir- In Which Hiccup is Picked (Longer version by FateCharms)

Illness- In Which Stoick is a dad

~Illusionist- Trick gone wrong

~In the Walls- In which there’s a poop ghost

~Knocking On The Wrong Door (2) - A chance encounter

❤️Messages- Astrid is Frustrated with Hiccup’s obliviousness

~To Mirkwood- Hiccup is not a dwarf

~Monster Falls- Hiccup and Astrid take a dip

❤️Mute- In which there’s a quiet stranger

~Music Video (ImgHS)- He didn’t expect it

❤️Operation: Lovebirds- In Which the gang makes a plan, and Hiccup gets Drunk

~Over- Too many nightmares

~Partners in Crime- A normal day at work

~Pirate- Astrid is the greatest treasure

~Prince- He doesn’t want to be a broken King

❤️Sorting Things Out- In Which Astrid gets her ducks in a row

~The Dragon and The Dame- Beauty and the Beast Au

The Pit- In Which Hiccup is rescued

Hide and Seek- Part 1

Lost and Found- Part 2

Long fics:

*❤️Infernal Responsibility- Being the son of the chief takes brains, courage, and a lot of patience. But at his father’s the request for marriage, Hiccup decides he has had enough. When he seeks out a life of ease, he runs into more than what he bargained for.

*❤️Roses and Lilies- “Astrid, you and I both know you’re much tougher than I am. You’re more brave, and a better fighter…but just for a little while…could we pretend that I’m the one protecting you?” “Oh gods yes!” (Also Available in Spanish!)

*~What the Water Gave Me- The sea is a wild and dangerous thing, something that cannot be foretold or predicted. Hiccup discovered this many years ago, in human naiveté. Yet, what was meant as a sacrifice became a new life, one like no one could comprehend. He now finds himself once more in the unknowing hands of those that sentenced him to death. He only prays things will be different this time. Merman!AU

*Parasite- Soulsnatcher Dragons are rare but deadly. But, As Hiccup finds out, it’s the eggs you have to watch out for.

*~320 State Street- Gobber’s Goods. A Hardware Store that was rumored to have everything you needed. She thought she only needed a job. Turns out, she needed a lot more than that. (A Modern AU no one asked for)

*~❤️The North Tower- When Finn Hofferson died, Astrid inherited his castle in Wales…and a whole lot more. Something sinister lurks in the North Tower.

*~❤️Boy Toy- AO3 - At the age of 21, Princess Astrid lawfully has to pick a husband. But when the perfect groom is nowhere to be found, she requests the toymaker to create one for her. It’s safe to say that everyone in the kingdom is a little concerned. (Pinocchio!AU I guess?)

No, You Go First- AO3 - The Chief of Berk was a headstrong viking, stubborn and full of pride, and willing to do whatever it takes to keep his village safe. But for a moment, he puts that aside, and listens to his son. In which Hiccup convinces his dad not to make him go through Dragon Training, and the subsequent changes that follow.

*In Due Time- AO3 - As another illness sweeps through Berk, Gothi needs another ingredient for her medicine…one that doesn’t exist anymore. Fortunately, she kept that old spell book around for such an occasion. Big Hiccup is sent to five years into the past, and his younger self sent to take his place in the future. But it’s only a few days, what could go wrong?

Trollhunters: Tales from Arcadia

❤️Arcadia or Bust- In Which Arcadia welcomes back it’s underground citizens.

Teen Titans

Oneshots:

~Big Brother- Don’t turn out the light (Horror)

Dear Jason- Bruce Writes a letter

Just Drawing- Bruce thinks about Robin

The Prisoner- Starfire is Guilty

Of Mustard and Three Foot Purple Tongues- A collection of Oneshots and Drabbles

Long Fics (*Finished):

*~❤️Carol of the Bells- High in the dark Bell Tower of Notre Dame, there lives a mysterious bell ringer. Legend tells of the angel who fell from the sky, and the curse she bares. There are few who know her true identity though; her master, the priest, and the acrobat that performs on the streets below. Based loosely on ‘The Hunchback of Notre Dame’ RobxStar and slight BBxRae

*No Escape- Three years ago, Starfire escaped an Alien race called the Gordanians, to arrive on Earth. They’re back, and ready to put Starfire back where she belongs, behind reinforced Titanium bars. Robin’s not about to let her go…if only he hadn’t got captured first. How does it feel to be the alien, Robin?

*Now you Know My Pain- When the new Villain, Gender Bender, comes to down, the Titans find themselves in an odd situation. They’ve been turned into the opposite gender against their will! Now in order to change back, they must learn to understand the gender they’ve turned into. Rated T for obvious reasons. A great read if you’ve ever wondered why girls or guys do [blank].

*Paint it Black- Robin disappeared three months ago. Now, Jump City’s crime rate is mysteriously being taken care of by a normal, albeit strange, teenage boy who goes by the name Black. As the Titans befriend this lunatic, they begin to see a relation between him and their missing leader. Will they be able to find Robin, or will Black turn them all insane as himself? Actually, contains NO OC.

*Saving Grace- “When I’m done with you, you won’t be able to walk upright or speak coherent sentences and all you’ll see is my mask and my voice repeating in your head…Weak. Richard Grayson, I am not tough, I am everything that you fear.” Happy Ending! Smudge of RobStar. NO Slash!

Other Fandoms

Final Fantasy XV

❤️Requiem for Pitioss-“O King. The god’s have heard your cries. Know that we weep with you. The Oracle’s calling has not yet been fulfilled. But…Lunafreya as you know her cannot return the way she was.” Noctis looked up, hopeful. “But she can return!” Canon divergence from Chapter 9. Happy ending. Some spoilers.

Final Fantasy X

I Do…I Guess? - “I would…like to ask you something.” “Shoot.” “Well…if it’s not too much…I’d like to ask you…to marry me.” Knowing what’s to come during her pilgrimage, Yuna asks Tidus to marry her, strictly for convenience and having an official next of kin, of course. Starts after Luca and how this decision would affect the rest of the story.

Beauty and the Beast

*❤️Behold the Beast- A Oneshot alternate ending to the Animated Film

Cinderella

*❤️Midnight- “When the clock strikes twelve, the spell will be broken,” the fairy godmother had warned. A retelling of the story, when Cinderella doesn’t escape the ball in time. Oneshot

*So This is Love- What if Jaq and Gus hadn’t made it in time to help Cinderella? A new twist on the ending of the classic Fairytale, and what lies beyond the story. She still gets her happy ending and her Prince, and her step family gets their just deserts.

Sleeping Beauty

*❤️A Love Song Back To Me- Maleficent saw the loophole that stared her in the face. Prince Phillip would break the curse in time, for sure. After all, he was betrothed to Aurora. So in an effort for her evil plan to stay in action, Maleficent takes care of the young prince herself. Phillip never imagined having to live off the land like the birds above. Alternate twist on the classic Disney tale.

Escaflowne

Down Feathers- Hitomi’s depressed. She’s been away from Van too long, he comes back to visit her…but what if something went wrong with the transfer? (Not finished. Never will be finished. Mwahaha) Circa 2012

*Angel’s Wounds- Fanelia’s been victorious in their most recent battle with Basrum. Unfortunately, someone is wounded and just seeks solace in his love that lives so far away. Post Anime.

Momma Look Sharp- With the war between Fanelia and Basrum finally coming to a close, the kingdom is celebrating. The young king, however, is suffering from an experience unlike any he had before. Van finally seeks solace in his wife.

[wefoundloveunderthelight]

Love or Duty by GleefullyCaptainSwan

Chapter 4/8

Read on AO3: | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

Or on FF

Stacy's Tortured Crew: @teamhook @kmomof4 @stahlop @lfh1226-linda @ilovemesomekillianjones @itsfabianadocarmo @mariakov81 @qualitycoffeethings @zaharadessert @jrob64 @jonesfandomfanatic @natascha-ronin @tiganasummertree @xarandomdreamx @therooksshiningknight @batana54 @superchocovian @onceratheart18 @ultraluckycatnd @snowbellewells @karlyfr13s @the-darkdragonfly @xsajx @deckerstarblanche

Chapter 4: Duty is Sacrifice

Emma woke as the sun rose in the sky, the light beams breaching the window to her room. She stretched her arms toward the top of her bed and sighed loudly. “It is about time you have risen from your bed.” She heard Ruby laugh from the other side of her room. “If you are to go riding with Prince Killian, you need to get ready.”

She yawned and sat up in her bed. “The sun has not fully risen, even the horses will still be sleeping.”

“Just because you enjoy sleeping until the sun is high, does not mean the rest of the kingdom follows.”

“You exaggerate, the sun has barely made it beyond the walls, the day is young.” She put her feet on the ground and closed her eyes, there was a sense of excitement and dread to get to see beyond the walls of the castle today, she hoped that wherever Killian took her riding would give her a better sense of this new prison she would be trapped in once she married Liam.

“Will you be standing on ceremony this morning and wearing a gown to ride?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” She laughed. “You know I hate riding side saddle; this town might as well learn who I am because I have no intention of pretending I’m something else for the rest of my life.”

“You are going to be a handful for the Prince, I can assure you.”

“Good.” Emma replied simply. “Perhaps he shouldn’t have accepted to take me riding if he wasn’t up for the task.”

“I was talking about Prince Liam.” Ruby giggled. “But interesting that your mind went to his brother.”

“It’s not interesting at all, I simply thought you were talking about our riding adventure you are busy preparing me for.”

“Of course.” She said with a sly smile.

“What is this tone?” Emma inquired.

“Nothing at all, I was simply pointing out that perhaps you find the younger Prince intriguing.”

Emma snorted. “Intriguing. He’s smug, conceited, arrogant beyond all measure…”

“So, you’re attracted to him?”

“I’m not saying he isn’t easy on the eyes. I’m quite certain he’s been easy on many a maiden’s eyes.”

“I think he’s sweet.” She swooned.

“Of course, you do.” She exhaled with a laugh. “Men like Killian Jones most often turn out to be nothing more than a child and you do so enjoy taking care of children, don’t you?”

The women fell onto the bed giggling before going about the rest of the task of preparing Emma for the day’s ride.

By the time they emerged from her chambers it was lunch time and Emma hurried to the dining hall in hopes of finding the Prince. When she entered the chamber, the Queen was seated as she sipped her soup. Emma stopped in her tracks, realizing she was alone in the room with the woman.

“Princess Emma, do join me for some soup.” Emma bowed her head and sat down at the other end of the large table. “Nonsense dear, I prefer not to have to raise my voice over a friendly chat.” She motioned for the man behind her to bring her food next to the Queen, Emma took the seat nearest to the woman. “There that’s much better.”

“Thank you, Your Grace.”

“Please call me Alice, I have always hated formality. My mother gave me a name, I quite enjoy hearing people use it.”

Emma laughed. “You sound like my mother.”

“Ah yes, Lady Margaret. She is a fine woman.”

Emma’s head snapped up at the mention of her mother, she knew that the situation between her father and King Jones was not a happy one, but she was unaware that her mother and the Queen were acquainted. She thought it must be awkward considering her mother was once betrothed to the woman’s husband.

“I was not aware you knew my mother.”

A small smile spread on her face, “Men choose to stand behind years of resentment and bitter rivalry, but women, women understand matters of the heart, don’t we, love?” She paused. “Your mother is a brave woman in a time when women are not encouraged to speak their minds; she is someone I have admired for years.”

Emma smiled fondly thinking of her mother. “She would be pleased to hear that.”

“Are you ready to see all that Jonesboro has to offer you today?”

“Very, I love riding and experiencing new things.”

“Judging by your attire, am I to assume you are an accomplished rider?”

She looked down at her clothing, “My father and I used to go riding when I was a child. My horse back home, White Swan, I’ve had her for years. Some of my fondest memories are shared with her.”

“Killian will be pleased to know he will not need to teach you how to ride. My son is not the most patient of tutors.”

Emma laughed. “I never would have guessed.”

“How are you healing? My sons told me of the attack on the road here.”

“Sore, but nothing I can’t handle.”

“We are all very thankful that it was not worse.” She said, reaching over to grab her hand.

“Had it not been for Prince Killian, I fear it may have been worse.” She said honestly without thinking.

“I am most pleased to hear that. Besides, I could not bear needing to relay dreadful information to your father.”

Emma was about to ask the Queen how well she knew her father when they were interrupted by Killian’s arrival. “Good day, Mother.” He announced when he entered the dining hall.

“At this rate, it is almost evening.” She teased. “Can you ever emerge from your bed chamber before the sun rises?”

“What would be the point of that, if the sun has chosen not to rise, why should I?” He mused and Emma tried to hide her own smirk.

“You’ll be pleased to know that Princess Emma is an accomplished rider and should be well suited for a trip to the countryside this afternoon. Please be sure to show her the fields, the flowers are quite lovely this time of year.”

“Of course, Mother.” He said, kissing his mother’s cheek and grabbing a slice of bread from the table. “Are you ready, love?”

Emma felt herself blush as he stared in her direction. “Quite.” She said simply, standing from her seat. “It was lovely chatting with you, Alice.” She added softly, not missing the way that Killian’s face softened at the mention of his mother’s name.

She followed Killian silently through the halls until they found themselves outside, people milling quietly about, barely recognizing their Prince walking amongst them as if he blended with the townsfolk seamlessly without calling notice to the fact that he was royalty. The ones that did acknowledge that they knew him, fondly shook his hand, nodded in his direction, and a few of the women earned a genuine smile from the man. She could tell that he was well liked by their people.

“This way, M’Lady.” He gestured her toward the dirt path that led to the stables in the distance. “You are quite the surprise, Princess. I half expected you to show in full dress, ready to promenade around the villagers as their future Queen.”

She rolled her eyes at his dishonest comment. “You most assuredly did not. You know full well that I am not a helpless lady in waiting who sits back on her station in life. I’m quite sure I could match your skill with a blade, and I don’t think I’ve ever pretended to be a damsel in your presence.”

He laughed, responding with more honesty this time, “I supposed that is true, you are not quite what I expected, Princess of Misthaven.”

She found her eyes rolling again at the formality of it all, “Emma will do. I never liked the sound of Princess anyway; it makes me feel as if I am to parade around in pink satin and lace with braids in my hair and birds singing on my shoulder. It’s tiresome and boring.”

“You’re sort of an open book aren’t you, love?”

She flinched toward him as he opened the stable doors. “Usually, no.” She answered honestly. “I guess I don’t feel the need for pretense around you.”

“Should I feel honored then?” He joked.

“I am most certain the only reason I feel that way is that you yourself do not seem to be of the type to keep up pretense, unlike your brother, you do not have to worry that one day the crown will sit on your head.”

“And you believe this means that I do not have responsibility, or duty to the kingdom?”

“You speak of duty as if you understand it.” She laughed.

“Duty is sacrifice. I understand it more than most.”

“Sacrifice? What is it that you sacrifice? Your ability to roam from bed chamber to bed chamber? Missing a romp in the hay due to diplomatic responsibility?” She paused and snorted, “I misspoke, your father sends your brother for that.”

“I suppose it is more honorable that your duty is to lay yourself down for my brother.”

Emma felt the sting on her hand before she realized that she had slapped him. Her anger rising to the tips of her ears. Her mouth sat agape for a moment, his blue eyes glaring back at her. “I do not feel much like riding anymore.” She said angrily, storming away from the man and rushing back to the castle as the tears fell down her cheeks with each step.

~*~

Killian stared at her retreating form, his cheek burning from the contact with her palm. He knew he shouldn’t have said it, knew that Emma was set against marrying his brother simply because of duty. It was unkind to mention taking away her right to choose who she wanted to lie with. Yet he couldn’t hold his tongue. He wanted to scream at her, to tell her that he wanted more than his own station in life. He could do more if only his father allowed it.

Killian had waited in the wings for years for his father to call on him, he could be at the front of the Royal army, leading the charge toward battle, he could lead a diplomatic mission to other lands, be trusted to speak for the kingdom, to show his father and the town that he was more than just Liam’s little brother. But his father had little faith in him, only seeing him as the boy who caused mischief, the boy who could not be tasked with important things.

It angered him that he was always ignored, he was the Prince who would never be King. He was nothing.

Killian stormed back toward the castle, determined to spend his evening lost in drink and naked maidens. He would distract his anger away with more inviting emotions.

But his anger was not stemmed the next morning when he awoke with a hangover, his sheets clinging to his naked form as if he had tossed in the waves of another nightmare at sea. He was adrift in torment, unanchored and floating toward an ocean of regret and sorrow.

He did not like being at war with the Princess, yet he could not bear to be in the presence of the woman either. Seeing her was torment on his mind. As much as he wanted to shout his anger into her gravity, he was more tortured by the way he was affected by her company. As much as he loathed arguing with the woman, the result intoxicated him.

His mood was apparent through dinner, though his mother did not speak of it, his father was quick to point out that he was once again being difficult. Killian brooded while he ate, not making eye contact with the woman seated across from him.

“I never did hear how you enjoyed the countryside.” His mother spoke from the end of the table and Killian gulped his food down.

“I was feeling ill and had to cancel the ride before it began.” She responded quickly.

“I can summon Victor to have a look.” His mother responded.

“Thank you, but I’m feeling better today.” She said softly, looking back down at her food.

“Probably for the best, I’m sure Liam would do a better job of showing you around than Killian, unless you are only interested in the inside of our many taverns.” His father grumbled and Killian stood quickly from the table.

“If you don’t mind Mother, I have other duties to attend to.” He said, more forcefully than he intended.

His mother nodded with a frown on her face. “Of course.” He turned and bowed angrily toward his father and glanced only slightly at Emma before he exited the room, ignoring the look on her face as she tried to make eye contact with him. His feet pounded toward the courtyard, needing to feel the air, the breeze, something that wasn’t the inside of these rock worn walls.

Before he realized where he was going, he had saddled his horse and took off into the moonlight riding toward the forest. When he reached the small pool of water in the middle of the lush trees, he dismounted and sat down on the rock that had held him many times before. Times when his anger or sadness had pushed him away from the castle walls that he called home.

He pulled the flask from his jacket pocket, uncorking it and tipping it toward his mouth, the warm liquor coating his throat as it warmed him inside and quelled his discontent.

“You ride faster than I was prepared for.”

“Bloody hell.” He jumped as the voice approached him from behind. The horse stopped next to his own, and Emma dismounted, dropping down to the ground with ease. “Did you steal my horse?” He exclaimed, staring at the dark black mare behind her.

She looked back and ran her hands across her main. “Is she yours? She’s a beautiful animal.” The horse pressed against her hand, allowing her to run her palm against its face.

“Aye, her name’s Jolly, but she has not been ridden by anyone except me since she was born.” He said astounded that the horse not only allowed her to saddle it but to also sit upon her.

She shrugged, “I have a way with horses, I suppose.”

“What are you doing out here? It’s not proper for a Princess to sneak off with the brother of her betrothed. What would people think of your duty to him?” he added sarcastically.

“Don’t talk to me about duty.”

“Tell me Princess, why exactly are you marrying him? Are you perhaps too difficult for other men? Or do you not believe in love?” He spat.

“What do you know of love? You speak of it as if it is as easy to come by as getting water from a well.”

“I thought for sure that you of all people would reject the notion of performing your duty in the absence of love.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“For someone that comes from true love, one would think that it would be more important to you than duty.” Her mouth opened and he rolled his eyes. “You think I don’t know about your mother’s rejection of my father? She neglected her duty because she was in love.”

“How dare you accuse my mother of doing anything wrong. From my experience with your father, she made the right choice.”

“Don’t misunderstand Princess, I respect your mother’s gumption to defy the basic principles of royalty and duty. I just thought perhaps her daughter had the same spirit. I see I was wrong to make such an assumption.” She stepped toward him angrily and he laughed. “Did I touch on a nerve, love? Care to hit me again?”

“You arrogant, son of a…”

“Careful, that is not the language of lady in your position.”

“I’m no lady.” She said angrily.

“That part I believe. But tell me love, have you ever done anything that wasn’t part of your responsibilities. Sod the duty, no thought of what people will think of you, but you did it anyway simply because you wanted to?” He smirked.

“Of course, I have. Where do you think I learned to ride that damned horse like that?” He began laughing heartily and a pout formed on her face. “What?”

“You consider mounting a horse to be an act of defiance.” He stepped closer to her, pushing the hair lying on her shoulder behind her. “Perhaps you like the feel of the horse when you ride her bareback? Is it exhilarating having a beast as large as that between your legs?” She shivered against his touch and a grin grew on his face. He stepped back and tugged at the buttons of his shirt, dropping the garment to the ground in front of her. Reaching up to unbuckle his brace, he felt it loosen and drop onto the ground beside him. He did not have time to think about it, to feel the full weight of being this exposed to her, or anyone like this.

“What are you doing?” She asked nervously.

He reached for the string of his pants, loosening them, and dropping them the length of his body, standing in front of her nude and exposed as she rocked back on her heels, he was certain her cheeks were stained red if he had more light exposed to her. “Join me for a swim?” He asked nonchalantly, turning away from her with a grin and walking into the pool of water in front of him.

“Why on earth are you swimming in the middle of the night?” She yelled after him.

Once he was standing waist deep he turned toward her. “Because I wanted to.” He laughed with a shrug. “So, I did.”

He could see her contemplating her options on the shore, looking around nervously at the horses, staring at the pile of clothes he had left by the rocks. He knew he was being reckless; he had just discarded his clothing in front of his brother’s future wife. It was a game he was destined to lose.

And yet he couldn’t stop himself, whatever it was with Emma, it was like something was calling her to him. She was the air he needed to breathe and the blood running through his veins. He needed her and yet he couldn’t have her. “It’s alright Princess, I’m sure my brother would not want you catching cold anyway.”

As if he had just poked her, she angrily tore her gown over her head, pushing her shoes from her feet and standing on the shore in her thin shift. Killian felt his entire body catch fire as she slipped the straps from her shoulders and dropped the material to the ground, leaving her only in the flesh. His breathing wavered as she stepped into the water defiantly, almost marching toward him in the water, her eyes locked on his. God he wanted this woman.

When she was close enough to touch she sank down under the water, disappearing beneath as circles of water expanded out around her. Suddenly he felt something brush against his legs as they were pulled out from under him, and he found himself splashing backward into the water until he was submerged in the cool lake. When he breached the water, she was laughing, her hair soaked against her milky white skin, water pooling at the apex of her breasts. The mischievous grin on her face caused a reaction below the surface that he tried to tame.

“Aren’t you a bloody minx.” He chuckled. “Two can play your game, love.” He teased before he dove under the water, wrapping an arm around her waist and tossing her over his shoulder. She was laughing when she popped up from the water, wading in the deeper water behind him. She swam closer until she was able to stand, and he stared down at her.

Her eyes were wandering his body, glancing at his chest until they swept lower as if trying to see beneath the murky waters below. She bit her lip, turning her eyes back to his face and then onto his arm. “How did you lose your hand?” She asked suddenly and he glanced to his side, lifting his arm from the water, the blunt end of his wrist the constant reminder that he would never be whole.

“Sailing.” He responded sadly. “I fancy myself a pretty good sailor, but at 14 I was reckless, distracted, as my father has told the tale many times in the past.”

“Your father is an insensitive man.” She said softly.

“Aye, but not wrong. I have learned from my mistakes; I do not make them twice.”

“Couldn’t have been that easy for a 14-year-old.” She stared at him with sorrow in her eyes.

“I don’t require your pity, lass. All my other appendages work just fine.” He teased, cocksure and full of piss.

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what, love?”

“Lie to me.”

“I can assure you; I’ve never lied to you.”

“Then you aren’t being honest with yourself. It’s ok for a 14-year-old boy to grieve the loss of something that everyone else takes for granted. There’s nothing wrong with struggling to feel whole.”

His eyes sought hers, her words striking something deep in his heart. How did she know that he had never felt like a full person for so many years? How was she able to see the thoughts and feelings he had tried so hard to hide from the world? Things he only spoke of in the solidarity of his own mind. He didn’t know who stepped forward first, how their bodies ended up so close that he could feel the vibration of the water beneath him from the way she moved back and forth beside him. He didn’t know when her arm brushed against his, her fingers lightly tracing the scars at his wrist.

He didn’t know how she ended up in his arms or why she was gazing at him with the look of want in her eyes but there was no denying that he was the one that closed the gap between them, his lips making contact with hers in a bruising kiss that left him feeling as though he would not be able to breathe if she pulled away from him.

She made a sound that sent shivers down his spine as she wrapped her legs around his waist, and he pulled her against his body as they hovered in the water. His hand tangled into her wet hair, his thumb tracing the curve of her neck, his tongue dancing with hers as their bodies slipped against each other.

His cock bobbed under the water, brushing against her backside as her groans became louder in his ear. He could barely contain himself, his hand brushing against her breast as she hummed in his ear, her teeth biting at his lobe. “Emma…” He groaned and he felt her stiffen in his arms.

Just as suddenly as it had begun, it was her who pulled away from him, a mortifying frown on her face. “Oh God.” She said into the air. “What have I done.” She started to pull herself toward the shore, marching toward their clothing strewn on the bank. “I must be insane.” She was mumbling to herself as he reached her side.

“Emma.”

“No, don’t talk to me right now. Don’t look at me.” She shrilled as she held her clothes up against her naked form. “I’m marrying your brother. We can’t…we should never have…Oh God.” She finished.

He turned around to speak. “Emma.”

“Please put your pants on.” She said anxiously and he reached for his pants, tugging them onto his wet legs, struggling to get them to slide up his legs with one hand.

“It was my fault. No one has to know about this.”

“You’re damn right, no one can know about this. I mean that Killian, no one can know. The dishonor it would bring to my family is more than I can bear.” She cried and Killian reached for her hand before she jerked away from him. “Don’t touch me.” She said before softening her voice. “I’m sorry.”

“Emma, I’m the one who is sorry, I never meant to…” He continued to try and tug at the fabric on his legs refusing to budge.

“I have to get back to the castle before anyone realizes I’m gone.” She said nervously, wringing her hands as she approached the horse.

“Would you just wait, love. You’ll get lost in the dark.”

“No, we can’t be seen together, just…please Killian, leave me be.” She pleaded as she mounted the horse, her wet clothes clinging to her body. She urged the horse forward, turning to look back at him once before speeding off into the darkened forest.

“Bloody hell.” He swore, giving up on his pants and dropping down onto the rock behind him. He had royally screwed things up this time.

[mindmeltonabun-blog]

Tale of the Nine Tailed: Red Tree Symbolism and How It Relates to the Final Outcome of Lee Yeon and Ji Ah

Sometimes the intro of a show will give us clues as to what the whole story is about. In the case of TOTNT, they gave us such major spoilers that I am so flabbergasted that I completely missed it all!

In Korean legends, there is a story called, “Red Flower for One Hundred Days”. The story began in a small seaside village (notice how the tree is located next to the sea) where there lived a man and a woman who were very much in love with each other and had planned to be married soon. Unfortunately, there was a grim customary in this village: a maiden must be sacrificed to the Imoogi that lived in sea in order to avoid a disaster from befalling on the village. On the year that the woman was suppose to be married, she was chosen to be the human sacrifice to the Imoogi. And so the man in a state of shocked, told the woman that he would go fight the Imoogi in the sea so that they could live happily ever after. Before leaving on his ship to face the Imoogi, the man told the woman that he would fly a white flag if he had defeated the Imoogi and a red flag if he had failed.

So from that day onwards, the maiden would wait by the shore every day and pray for his safe return. Exactly 100 days after the man left, she saw his ship approaching and as the ship came closer she saw a red flag. The maiden now having been stricken with grief had died even before the ship had even reached the shore. 

Upon reaching the shore, the man had immediately set off to find his maiden so that he could share with her his joyous news. Sadly when he found her, she had already died. He did not understand how this could’ve happen until he had seen that his white flag had been smeared with the blood of the Imoogi. And so with a heavy heart, the man had to bury his beloved. Later on, it was seen that red flowers that had blossom around her grave for a 100 days before withering away. And so legend says that the red flowers of the crape myrtle tree contained the maiden’s spirit who had waited for her fiancé for a 100 days. 

Analysis

So after reading that whole story, I finally understood the intro. Basically the intro was telling us the story of Lee Yeon and Ah Eum. Something of interest to note is the color chosen to represent the Gumiho. I mean they could’ve made the Gumiho like orange or something, but instead they chose to make him white. This could signify that Lee Yeon will win the final battle against the Imoogi. Remember that in the legend the color white signifies a win. Additionally, I think the whole sequence of the Gumiho dissolving and binding with the tree as indicative that Lee Yeon and Ji Ah will finally be together in the end. 

[gothgirlmahi]

Prize

Dark!Thor x reader

Summary: You’re found by a hunting party in the woods. The king wants to take you as a trophy. Warnings: Non con, dub con, Thor’s huge...hammer

The bindings dug into you, leaving angry red marks of blood and bruises across your skin. Sharp edges of tree bark cut into your back any time you tried to move and even when you didn’t. You had no idea how long you’d been there. The only direction you could see was up, to the tops of trees and the sky above. Your throat was dry and aching from rope burn and thirst. The darkening sky stared down at you, mocking your pitiful situation.

A virgin sacrifice. That’s what they called it. Your people were religious, perhaps overly so. The rainy season had come and gone without much rain. This year’s harvest was minimal and people were starving. So they picked up a time honored tradition to kill two birds with one stone. A sacrifice would appease the gods and give them one less mouth to feed. And it had to be you.

Your fear picked up as night fell. They had truly left you here to die. There were no gods in the forest. The only end for you was a slow death, either from starvation or an animal happening upon you. You laid there for hours, shaking from the cold in your flimsy white gown and hoping, praying for a swift death.

When the sky was black and tear drops wetted your cold cheeks, you heard a noise in the forest. The rustling of leaves, the breaking of twigs...the whinny of horses? You didn’t know hunters came to this forest. To be fair, you hardly knew there was anything on the planet other than this forest as you had never been anywhere else.

The bindings didn’t allow you much room to move your neck, so you couldn’t see where they were. It seemed that they were approaching from somewhere behind you. You couldn’t tell how many there were, but there were several voices speaking amongst each other jovially. Maybe they weren’t hunters. They were much too loud to be. 

You were caught in what you should do. Perhaps call out for help and possibly be rescued? At the same time, that posed heavy risk. A group of men out at night, coming upon a virgin woman tied to a tree? Some might take it as an invitation. They could take turns violating you and kill you anyway to cover their tracks. The risk was too likely. You knew no one out at this time made it a habit of saving waylaid maidens. Your best option was to stay quiet and hope they didn’t see you.

As they got closer, your heart pounded in your chest. It seemed they were still headed in your direction. Out of all the ways they could take through this gods forsaken forest, it had to be the path that led directly to you. You tried to still yourself from shivering against the cold, not wanting to make any movement that could alert them, but your body was aching, sore and you were so hungry. Maybe you could barter with them. You supposed your virtue wasn’t worth slowly starving to death.

“Help,” you tried to call out. Your voice was faint and you could scarcely hear it yourself. You tried a few times more, getting louder with each call and you heard their conversation stop. Their horses got closer to you and as they rounded the tree, you could look down and see their faces, the tops of their heads and armor. The blond one in front, strong and handsome, was staring at you curiously. There were four men on horses behind him, looking confused and intrigued.

“What do we have here?” The blond asked, smiling a bit. One behind him scoffed, a black haired man that looked indifferent the whole situation.

“A sacrifice perhaps. Virgin. Boring.”

Boring? You could be boring. You would be whatever got you out of these restraints.

The blonde laughed before dismounting his horse and disappearing from your view.

“Don’t be so mean. Clearly this young lady has had a rough night,” he said from somewhere below you.

“Please. Help,” you repeated.

“Hush, now. I’m only getting my knife.” You heard him unsheathe the knife and felt him move closer. He cut the rope around your neck first, letting your head fall forward and you cried out in pain. Now you were able to look down as he cut the rest of the ropes. You were caught between staring at his hair, his elegant armor and the way his strong hands let the knife glide through your bindings. By the time he had untied you, you had hardly recognized that you were falling.

You screeched, thinking you would tumble to the unforgiving forest floor but instead you were caught and pulled into his warm chest. When his hands touched your skin he frowned.

“You’ll freeze to death like this.” He laid you down on the ground and you nearly cried from the pain and numbness of the cold. Then you saw him taking his cloak off. He picked you up gently again and wrapped you in his furs. The warmth relaxed you immeasurably though you were still scared of what would happen. 

“Thor, can we move this along? We do have a schedule to keep.”

You were starting to not like the black haired one.

“Loki, shut up,” the blonde chided before picking you up and setting you on his horse. He got on in front of you and urged you to put your arms around him. You did so weakly and the party marched on. The horse was quick, quick enough to make you feel a bit ill but you tried to distract yourself from your nausea. Your distraction came in the form of your own exhaustion as you fell asleep, holding tightly to the man in front of you.

After riding for a while you were in a half sleep state and noticed lights in the darkness. When you looked up, your eyes were drawn to a shimmering palace in the distance. You thought for a moment it was a figment of your unconscious mind and didn’t think further as sleep caught you once more.

You woke up again after hearing voices.

“What’s this?” A man asked. You still didn’t look up, just kept your head buried in the fur of the cloak. Thor shifted slightly in front of you.

“A prize. Half dead but a lot prettier than a buck. No complaints from me.”

A prize. You were his prize. 

You all rode a bit further before stopping again. Thor dismounted the horse and pulled you off as well. He didn’t even let you attempt to stand, just pulled you over his shoulder and started hauling you away. You looked around, noticing you were in a stable. Stable hands scurried around, taking the horses of the men and tending to them. Thor was taking long strides and soon you were out of the building and into another. You passed through an ornately decorated but empty corridor.

Finally Thor stopped at a door and peered in.

“Excuse me,” he announced his presence. You couldn’t see as you were slung over his shoulder and your head was bouncing around near his back, brushing his armor.

“Good evening, your majesty. May I assist?”

“Yes. Take this woman and bathe her, dress her well and bring her to my table. Can you do this?”

“Of course, your majesty.”

“Treat her well.”

“I will, your majesty. You can put her on the bed and I will bring her to you.”

Thor walked across the room and gently put you down on a soft surface. You basically collapsed from exhaustion and sprawled on the bed. He leaned down to kiss your cheek before rubbing his cloak between his fingers.

“Take care of this for me?”

You nodded. He patted your shoulder and left. You turned and noticed the older woman next to you, looking very stately in her lavender gown and intricate hairstyle. She looked at you disapprovingly. 

“I’ll run your bath. You smell like the woods. You’ll be a proper woman in no time.”

And she was right. She very roughly cleaned you, enough that parts of your skin were raw. You were doused in oils and perfumes. You hair was washed and styled. The woman dressed you in a deep red gown, with a neckline much lower than you would ever be comfortable with. You stood in the mirror awkwardly admiring how beautiful you looked but being uncomfortable at the same time. Before you could ruminate on your appearance further, she was dragging you out of the room by your arm. The quick movements had you dizzy and unsteady on your feet but you kept pace with her. You approached a set of doors and she stopped abruptly.

“You will dine with the king. He likes red so I do hope this appeases him.”

She pushed open the doors to a sensory overload. The golden chamber was filled with people talking, laughing and drinking. A bard danced about in the corner playing a song. At the center of the room was a large table covered in things you could never even imagine. A bountiful table filled with food. Meats you had never seen.  Vegetables that couldn’t even be grown in your stupid village. And there was just so much of it. To think people lived like this as you spent years starving somehow made you even less hungry than you were. 

Across the room, you caught sight of Thor and headed towards him. The drunken masses paid you no mind as you traversed the chamber. Thor’s eyes met yours and he gave you a smile, beckoning you over with a hand wave. You hurried your gait until you were no more than a foot in front of him.

“Oh, my sweet flower. Don’t you look good enough to eat. Though I suppose I should save that for later. Take a seat and dine with me.”

Thor pulled you down on his lap and pulled his plate to you.

“Eat,” he commanded. You listened, inspecting your choices and picking through. Thor seemed content enough to watch as you ate. You had to admit you were starting to feel a bit better. Even before being left to starve in the forest you were still hungry.

You ate until you couldn’t anymore and Thor laughed when you groaned, putting a firm hand on your thigh. There wasn’t a time you could recall being full. It wasn’t a comfortable sensation, but you liked it better than being hungry. Your eyes were drawn to the bard and his song.

“Drink,” Thor said, close enough that you could feel his breath in your ear. You nodded again, taking down some of the bitter liquid in his tankard. Warmth pooled in your belly and you sighed at the sensation. Thor’s hand wandered further down and below your gown. You tensed. He ignored your reaction and trailed up your leg slowly, stopping when he got between your thighs.

“Don’t stop feasting on my account,” he whispered, placing a finger on your clit. You gasped and tried to clasp your thighs together but Thor pulled them apart. His fingers gently rubbed at you and you could feel your arousal growing. Your cheeks burned in humiliation but no one seemed to be paying attention to you anyway. Everyone was concerned with their own entertainment.

His hand dipped lower, pushing into you slightly and gathering some of your juices. He pulled back up to rub against your clit and you moaned, holding onto the edge of the table. The only person who had ever touched you like that was yourself and here was this stranger doing it better than you ever could.

You ground into his hand and he quickened his movements.

“So docile. Compliant. Innocent and sweet. When I take you, you’ll scream for me. Scream for your king. But for now I’ll make you come on my hand. Because you’re that desperate for it. Because it’s what you need.”

You were close, panting and your heart was nearly beating out of your chest. Stars exploded in your vision and before you could scream, Thor’s hand was over your mouth muffling it. You thrust against his hand, twitching and shaking as you rode out your orgasm against him. He kissed your neck before pulling his hand from under your gown.

“I think I’m ready for bed. Aren’t you, little one?”

The trip to his chambers was a blur. He pulled you over his shoulder again before walking out of the room. A quick goodbye was said by a few but there was mostly no reaction to his hasty departure.

He threw you on the bed and started to undress himself.

“From the moment I saw you, I’ve wanted to take you. A perfect maiden, left out for me to find.”

You were panicked and teary eyed as he pulled his trousers down, revealing his manhood. There was never a point you imagined losing your virginity like this. Maybe with your husband. Maybe even a lover you chose. But to a man who found you in the forest? A man who didn’t even know your name.

He undressed you just as quickly. You made attempt to cover yourself but he laughed and pulled your arms away. Thor stepped off the bed and pulled you with him, forcing you to kneel in front of him. 

As you became eye level with his cock, you wanted to scream. You had never seen a man like this before. You weren’t even sure how that thing could fit inside you. There was just too much of him. 

“Come here, sweetling. Give it a kiss.”

You crawled over to him, clumsy and shaking. He smiled. Your hands set carefully on his hips and you stared up at him.

“Put it in your mouth. Be careful with your teeth.”

Your hands shook as you held him, but you opened your mouth and went down until you could feel him hit the back of your throat. His length was immense in your mouth and you were sure you could only fit about half of him.

He moaned, sliding back and forth between your lips for a while while you tried to avoid hurting him with your teeth. He grabbed the back of your head and tried to push you further. When he went past your throat you struggled, trying to push against him but he kept going until you were choking and sputtering around his length. He stopped when he was mostly down your throat and held you sternly.

“Stop. Breathe through your nose. Relax.”

You tried to comply and it got a bit better, allowing him to slide the rest of himself down your throat. His hips were at your face, blocking even the air you got through your nose. Before you could panic, he was sliding out again. You took the opportunity to breathe before he slammed back in roughly, finding a quick pace to fuck your face.

Both of his hands held the back of your head as he fucked your throat. The moans tearing from him were sinful and the noises of his pleasure spurred your own. You were already wet from him playing with you at dinner so this only added to your arousal. You knew you shouldn’t have been turned on by it but the raw power of him was enticing. 

A mixture of saliva and tears glided down your face and neck as you let him use you.

He stopped abruptly and pulled out. His face was flush with pleasure but he looked frustrated as he picked you up from the floor and threw you on the bed again.

“As much as I love your mouth, that’s not where I intend to cum. I want to leave my seed deep inside you.”

His words stirred something inside you. You laid back compliantly, legs open, waiting for him to act on his desire. 

His eyes strayed to your unblemished thighs and the virtue held between them. You were his gift, given to him and he intended to make full use of you. You trembled as he approached and stroked down your calves gently. When he got to your ankle he tugged and pulled you closer to him. He was laid in front of you between your thighs, just staring. If you weren’t so aroused, you were sure you’d be mortified to have this god of a man staring at your soaked core. 

He gave a few kitten licks to your clit and you instinctively pulled him closer by his long hair.

“Thor, please,” you pleaded. He looked up at you, smiling as he used his thumb to rub at your clit. 

“You don’t have to beg, kitten. I’ll let you have your release. Just not with my mouth. I think it’s time we solved the issue of your maidenhood.”

He pushed himself to kneel between your thighs, stroking at his length as he stared down at you. You unconsciously held your breath waiting for him to move. Tears were still running steadily down your face.

Thor slammed into you completely, his hips meeting yours and you screamed like you were being murdered. It felt like you were being killed, anyway. Being split in half. Being impaled by this man. You cried and screamed but Thor pet you gently and whispered soft words in attempt to calm you. When you regained your sense, you pushed at him. All you wanted was him out of you. It hurt too much.

Thor took both your hands in one of his and pushed them above you.

“Shh. I know it hurts. It’s better to just get through with it than prolong the pain. I promise it will be better soon.”

You whimpered and shook in pain for what seemed like hours and Thor patiently waited for your sins to subside. When they did, he pulled out and thrusted in again gently. He did it until you stopped crying out and picked up a rhythm. His hands released yours and went to your hips, grabbing tightly enough to bruise. He drove into you like a man possessed and moaned his own pleasure.

“So fucking tight around me. Perfect. A perfect woman. My woman. You’re mine. You belong to me and I’m keeping you.”

One of his thrusts had your eyes rolling back. He repeated it when you groaned in pleasure.

“Oh, is that it? Do not worry, your king is generous and will provide for you.”

He kept pushing into you from that angle and brushed his thumb against your clit. Your back arched and you squirmed around, honestly not knowing if you wanted to get away from him or get closer. It just felt so good. You could feel your climax quickly approaching.

Thor pushed one of your legs over his shoulder and pushed himself even deeper into you while groaning into your skin.

“Dirty girl. You won’t be so innocent soon. Not after you come on my cock. Not after I fill you with my seed. I can’t wait to see you, growing with my heirs inside you. Breeding your tight cunt night after night.”

You were delirious, babbling his name and spasming around his cock as you came. The pleasure had your legs shaking and back arched so your chests were firmly pressed against each other. Thor groped one of your breasts and bit into your leg gently.

“Your cunt is squeezing me so tight. Such a good girl for your king. Such a pretty little prize I found.”

He groaned again and you were filled with his hot seed, so much that it spilled out around your thighs and onto the bed. Thor pulled you on top of him without pulling out of you. Your sweat soaked skin stuck to his and you squirmed in discomfort from the ache in your lower regions.

“You’ve done well, sweet girl. You’ve served your king well.”

[pengiesama]

A Ring for a Ring, a Sweet for the Sweet (Fic, TGCF, HC/XL)

Title: A Ring for a Ring, a Sweet for the Sweet Series: Heavenly Official’s Blessing (Tian Guan Ci Fu) Pairing: Hua Cheng/Xie Lian

Summary:

Just as Hua Cheng once gave him a ring to pledge him his life, Xie Lian gives Hua Cheng a ring to pledge him his hole.

Link: AO3

Read on Tumblr!

--

Xie Lian was going into this birthday prepared. He had a plan in his head, a wish in his heart, and many thoughts cursing his dick.

--

This plan, this wish, this curse; it all started one fateful morning about a month ago. You see, the married life came with innumerable pleasures, and one of these was the comfort of a regular morning routine. Summarized, and truncated for length, it went a little like this:

 Step 1: Wake up.

Step 2, Scenario A: San Lang pretending to be asleep, and refusing to break character until Xie Lian provided anywhere between seven to ten morning kisses.

Step 2, Scenario B: San Lang already awake, and distributing morning kisses to Xie Lian’s lips, neck, cock, and other such body parts that would benefit from the application of his tongue.

Step 3: The irrepressible cosmic consequence of either scenario outlined above.

Step 4, Scenario A: San Lang big spoon.

Step 4, Scenario B: Xie Lian big spoon.

Step 5: Helping each other wash, dress, and get ready for the day.

 With Step 1 through Step 4, Scenario B completed, Xie Lian was helping his husband get ready before he had to scurry off to do a few errands. Check on the vegetable garden at the shrine, draw up a few new charms, pop over to the village’s market to see if there were any deals on, put an end to the demon who’d taken up residence in the hills two towns over and who was demanding maiden sacrifices…Xie Lian of course would answer the cries of those in need, but he did wonder, at times, why people were calling upon the God of Scrap-Collecting to slay evil (or at least rough up evil, followed by a stern talking-to). Shouldn’t they be calling upon him for blessings in happening upon excellent and thrifty finds? Ah, well. Always in service of the people.

The lacquered black comb sank thickly into Hua Cheng’s hair, and slid through like a ship through water. Silver chimed with the motions of Xie Lian’s arm. Lately, he’d taken to warming up Hua Cheng’s silver accessories before helping his husband put them on…underneath his sleeping robe, against his bare skin, he was currently sporting one of Hua Cheng’s heavy necklaces and silver belts. Xie Lian never liked the initial cold shock of jewelry against his skin when he was young; brief as the feeling was before his body heat warmed the metal, it was a petty annoyance he always dreaded each morning while still cranky and disoriented from sleep. His poor San Lang had no such respite, with his body’s ghostly chill. Thus, Xie Lian wanted to save his husband such an unpleasantness before a long day of managing his city.

There was, of course, the minor matter that Hua Cheng tended to wear quite a lot of accessories. (And he seemed to only be expanding this tendency after Xie Lian took up the warming habit.) After the necklace and belt were taken care of, he still needed to warm up the bracelets and rings (unthinkable to wear those while tending to San Lang’s beautiful hair), then the earrings and hair accessories, and then the vambraces; these were tricky, and required one-on-one attention. The silver butterflies nesting within the vambraces got excited very easily when Xie Lian touched their home, and if he wasn’t careful, he’d have an armful of butterflies and no vambrace to warm up.

Xie Lian could very easily spend the whole day at this, though his schedule didn’t allow it. Distracted by the movement of the comb through Hua Cheng’s hair, distracted by the low sounds of pleasure Hua Cheng made when Xie Lian absently ran his fingers through the strands, Xie Lian reached out to fumble for one of the many nearby jewelry boxes. Rings, San Lang did need rings to wear with his choice of ensemble today…

Xie Lian’s questing hand came back with a ring; that it was a ring was no question. But…Xie Lian’s brow furrowed as he examined it, turning it this way and that, the silver glinting in the bedroom light. Beautiful, with delicate engravings of blooming flowers across its surface, the quality silver thick and heavy in his palm. But this ring was much too large for his San Lang’s elegant, slender fingers, was it not? Though Xie Lian’s hands were smaller, they weren’t that much smaller, and he could fit both his thumbs inside it easily…

“Gege,” Hua Cheng purred, allowing his hair to fall over his shoulder in an alluring and altogether deliberate manner. “Did you find something you’d particularly like to see me in today?”

Hua Cheng’s gaze fell on the ring that Xie Lian was examining, and his confident, sly expression dropped all at once. His hand twitched, then fisted in his robes; as if he wanted to snatch away the ring but didn’t dare do so. Xie Lian blinked, confused.

“Is this a ring that San Lang wears while in a different skin?” Xie Lian asked. “It’s lovely, but seems much too big for San Lang’s…fing…er…”

Xie Lian trailed off, and the truth of the matter took root in his mind as his cheeks began to burn with a familiar heat. And oh, did those roots find eager and fertile soil.

Now, Xie Lian was inexperienced in bedroom matters, this much was true. But he was not stupid, and he also knew what his husband’s dick looked like at this point. This ring was indeed too large for Hua Cheng’s slender and elegant fingers. But it was just the right size to fit around the base of Hua Cheng’s thick, heavy cock.

“Your Highness,” Hua Cheng croaked. “This one apologizes for leaving such an item in—”

“This is a cock ring,” Xie Lian murmured, as if in a trance state, approaching a level of enlightenment not yet seen.

Hua Cheng’s physical form briefly flickered; hearing His Highness say such words so bluntly, with such an irresistibly flushed face, was very much like being struck by a divine force, staggering in its power. He took a deep breath to regain control of himself, and nodded.

“Yes,” Hua Cheng admitted. “This one is much ashamed to not be able to please His Highness as he deserves, on some nights. I crafted such a crude instrument in hopes that it would help with control, but it still is not up to the task, nor is it worthy of the honor of being used in His Highness’ bed…”

Xie Lian was brought back to reality long enough to refute such a self-abasing statement.

“San Lang always pleases me!” Xie Lian stated firmly. It wasn’t always about lasting for hours! It was about both of them enjoying the experience! First off, his San Lang lasted a perfect amount of time; secondly, even when he did come too fast, it just meant that Xie Lian had that much more come in him, and one of Xie Lian’s primary goals in his immortal life now was to be filled with as much of Hua Cheng’s come as physically possible. And if Xie Lian had to wait hours each time before Hua Cheng would finally come inside…

…but perhaps it was about the challenge. This was something a (formerly) martial god could understand. This was something that could overcome Xie Lian’s shyness, could reach deep within him and seize him by the heart and make him rise to the occasion. The buildup of his husband’s frustration and need, the challenge of overcoming the restriction of the ring, of riding Hua Cheng and filling him with so much pleasure that he would burst forth and break through – just as Hua Cheng had once done to free him from the bonds of his cursed shackles. (But like, with less dying afterwards. And with waaaaaay more come filling up Xie Lian’s insides.) Yes. Yes, this was a challenge Xie Lian was ready to help his San Lang face. They would do it together.

“I’m going to borrow this,” Xie Lian said. “Is that okay?”

“…as it pleases His Highness,” Hua Cheng replied, with no little confusion.

He’d find out soon enough.

--

Xie Lian worked tirelessly, during every free moment, to perfect this most important of spiritual relics: the Incorruptible Chastity Cock Ring. Although last year’s birthday present proved that his sewing skills left something to be desired (and his dear, sweet husband still insisted on wearing that ridiculous belt any chance he got), his metalworking skills, again, proved much more polished. Polished enough to make this ring even more of a sight to behold.

He’d amassed enough followers, and enough donations, to permit him to spend on sourcing quality metal for the project – he of course would not dip into Hua Cheng’s own art supplies, nor his purse. Though both were open to him at all times, that was hardly the spirit meant for a birthday gift! And thus, with silver that was not dug up out of his own grave this time, he’d set to work.

The expertly engraved ring now sported four fine silver chains, from which many chiming seed-shaped silver beads dangled. These silver chains were meant to drape alluringly across Hua Cheng’s muscular thighs and lean hips, and chime with every movement. The chains could be attached to any of Hua Cheng’s silver belts, which Xie Lian considered a very clever foresight on his own behalf. It would be very convenient, this way. (Though it would, of course, mean that a bit of warming up would be needed before he could dress San Lang for the occasion.)

The day of Hua Cheng’s birthday came, and the rush of adrenaline that was warding off Xie Lian’s shyness was beginning to wear off. What was he doing, presenting his husband with such a gift!? My darling, my one and only, my San Lang, here’s a cock ring that you made yourself because you come too fast in bed. Happy birthday! But Xie Lian tried to remember the goal here, the challenge, the pursuit of excellence. Those who ascended were ones who were capable of seeing beyond the limits of what was thought impossible. And Xie Lian so loved dressing Hua Cheng up before a hard day of work.

The moment the midnight hour struck, Ghost City was bright with cheers and fireworks. When Hua Cheng next stepped out of his residence, he would be greeted with a thousand congratulations and well-wishes: Lord Chengzhu, happy birthday!

Great Lord Mayor, happy eight-hundred-twenty-third! If’n I could count that high, I’d lop off the hands of eight hunn’erd twenny third sinners and deck these streets with ‘em!

What a waste of hands! Ya know you can fry those up, doncha!? Or sell them to tourists!

And an occasion such as this calls fer decadence! Like scattering hands all over the streets!! But, for now, Xie Lian had Hua Cheng all to himself.

“San Lang,” Xie Lian whispered into his ear, before kissing it. “Happy birthday. Would you like to open your present?”

Such an offer was a surefire way to get Hua Cheng to stop pretending to be asleep. In an instant, Xie Lian was tackled onto his back on the bed, and pinned in place by the press of Hua Cheng’s lean body and the insistent lips against his own.

“Gege is too kind,” Hua Cheng sighed between kisses. “Too generous. For days I’ve been thinking of nothing but the birthday dinner you promised me, and now gege is telling me that he’s got more gifts up his sleeves?”

Seizing upon the opportunity provided by the wording, Hua Cheng’s greedy hands snuck up the sleeves of Xie Lian’s sleeping robes, squeezing and groping at his arms as he went. The right idea, but the wrong direction…

“It’s…um…” Xie Lian trailed off, his cheeks flaring red. He had a planned script for this. Something about a ring for a ring, sweets for the sweet. The lines were lost to him now. But the intent certainly was not.

Slowly, shyly, Xie Lian slid a hand down the front of his own robes. Hua Cheng’s eye followed the movement raptly, and his touch grew heavier on Xie Lian’s bicep. Taking a moment to steel his courage, Xie Lian ran his fingers along the tie of his robe once, twice, before tugging at it to loosen it and let his robes slip open.

“I wanted to make sure it was warm enough for San Lang to wear comfortably,” Xie Lian explained softly.

Silver glinted through the part of his robe. One of Hua Cheng’s silver belts hung around Xie Lian’s hips, flush against his bare skin. Chiming silver chains dangled from it, leading the eye downward to where they joined at that thick, heavy engraved silver ring. It really was much too big for one’s finger, and still a bit too big for Xie Lian’s own cock. He feared it looked a bit silly – even half-hard as he was, it was clear that there was no way he’d fill it out. Of course, Hua Cheng would have no trouble.

Hua Cheng stared openly, blatantly; hungrily and open-mouthed. His grip on Xie Lian’s bicep was bruising.

“…Your Highness,” he eventually managed to say. His voice was low and raw enough to send a shiver through Xie Lian’s limbs, to make those silver beads chime with the motion of his bare legs sliding against the silk sheets. “Your graciousness knows no bounds. This humble follower doesn’t deserve such a magnificent gift.”

Xie Lian took Hua Cheng’s face in his hands, cradled his cheeks between his palms. He leaned in to press a kiss between Hua Cheng’s brows.

“My husband,” he murmured against Hua Cheng’s skin, his breath warm. “Deserves many such magnificent things.”

The kiss that followed was deep and slow, and full of a wet heat that took Xie Lian from half-hard to fully rigid. The ring still slid off with ease, though Hua Cheng’s fingers were so careful and gentle and slow in their ministrations to remove it that Xie Lian could have cried (or laughed, really) in frustration. Hua Cheng was equally slow and deliberate while undoing the belt tied around Xie Lian’s waist, taking his time, dipping his fingers underneath the belt while he worked to feel the heat radiating off Xie Lian’s abdominals.

“San Lang,” groaned Xie Lian.

Hua Cheng chuckled weakly, and kissed Xie Lian’s throat in recompense. “Gege’s patience is appreciated. I have to wait for my blood to cool before I can wield his gift.”

Xie Lian blinked, curious. “Oh? Is that how it works? Much ashamed, I’ve not much experience. But that does make sense, considering the intent…”

It was Hua Cheng’s turn to groan, and he punctuated it with a dramatic collapse into the pillows next to Xie Lian’s head.

“Gege is not helping with the blood cooling,” Hua Cheng grumbled, with affection clear in the accusation.

“My sincerest apologies,” Xie Lian replied, not sorry at all.

It took some long, painfully and deliciously slow minutes – drawn out by their refusal to stop kissing for the duration – before Hua Cheng’s cock softened enough to slide the ring on. Xie Lian, too, went slowly, carefully, guided by Hua Cheng’s slightly-trembling fingers and the glide of oil to ease any discomfort. When the work was done, Xie Lian squirmed out from under Hua Cheng to survey his handiwork.

His San Lang looked so lovely. The sheen of the oil on his cock, the glinting silver decorating the thick base and draping artfully across his strong thighs. The delicate chimes looked ticklish against his balls; Xie Lian reached out a hand to brush his knuckles against the velvety soft skin there and was rewarded by a delicious groan and squirm.

Oh, before he forgot…there was indeed one more surprise that Xie Lian had for the birthday boy. When he’d set to work on this precious spiritual tool, he’d added some features...

Xie Lian traced both hands along the silver chains, and they shivered with spiritual energy. Hua Cheng wore a priceless expression of shock on his face for a brief moment as he felt the pulse of energy, but had no further opportunity to react before the cock ring itself pulsed once, twice, thrice, more. It continued to pulse around Hua Cheng’s cock in time with the racing beat of Xie Lian’s heart. With each pulse, Hua Cheng’s hips jerked upward involuntarily; with each jerk, those silver chimes rang melodiously. Hua Cheng’s mouth hung open wordlessly, his eye glazed with pleasure that stole his sight and sense.

Very convenient, indeed. Xie Lian could probably just leave him like this and go about his daily errands, secure in the thought that his husband would be waiting for him in bed at home, desperate for relief after hours of tension that threatened to snap him in two. But that wouldn’t be particularly kind to do to him today. The birthday boy would have his release in due time, with only as much teasing as Xie Lian could bear.

“Did I warm it up well enough for San Lang’s comfort?” Xie Lian asked, stretching himself out along Hua Cheng’s side as he jerked and twitched. He stroked his palm along Hua Cheng’s lovely pectorals, down his stomach. He pressed the back of his hand to the silver belt to test its temperature. Xie Lian hmmed thoughtfully and moved to toy with one of the silver chains. “I suppose it’s still a bit chilly. Will you ever forgive me?”

“H…Hhh-highne…ssss…” Hua Cheng managed to slur out, then let out an animalistic moan as the pulses around his cock grew in intensity. Xie Lian made a comforting noise, and kissed Hua Cheng’s temple soothingly. His poor San Lang. It couldn’t be helped; the cock ring’s pulses were tied to Xie Lian’s heartbeat, and there was no controlling that when he was with Hua Cheng.

Xie Lian decided, there and then, that it was time to test the integrity (and the Incorruptible Chastity) of this spiritual artifact. He’d prepared himself before waking Hua Cheng; he thanked himself profusely for this foresight, as he doubted he had the patience to do it now and could hardly ask Hua Cheng to do all the work today. He already had enough to deal with right now.

Hua Cheng’s hands, previously fisted in the silk bedsheets in a vain attempt at controlling himself, flew to seize Xie Lian’s waist as Xie Lian moved to straddle him. Any protests died in his throat as the tip of his cock pressed into Xie Lian’s entrance, already warm and willing and ready. Xie Lian sighed in relief at the stretch and the fullness, and bounced and wriggled his hips until Hua Cheng’s cock was in him fully. He could feel the slight coolness of the silver ring against the rim of his hole, could feel the pulsations of the ring inside and out. Xie Lian gave a full-body shiver, and almost absentmindedly lifted the crystal ring around his neck up to his lips to kiss. The gesture grounded him, it soothed him, it—

“Your Highness…”

The warning growl of that title came too little, too late. Driven mad by the beat of Xie Lian’s heart and the burning heat of his body, Hua Cheng’s grip on Xie Lian’s waist became completely ungentle. His fingers gripped with bruising force, and he bounced Xie Lian on his cock with harsh, fast motions; endlessly chasing a release that would not come, to the tune of chiming silver chains. He pounded as deep into him as he could reach, and seemed as if he could hardly stand having even an inch of him not inside. It was all Xie Lian could do to hold onto Hua Cheng’s shoulders, to hold himself steady even as his thigh muscles began to burn with the strain, to let Hua Cheng fuck into him and use his body as a tool for his pleasure.

The first time Xie Lian came, it only left him hungry for more. The fifth time left him lying limp and slack, sprawled on his back as Hua Cheng’s cock continued to relentlessly fuck him, in and out, with no signs of stopping or slowing. Xie Lian’s insides ached to be soothed by the rush of Hua Cheng’s come. After the eighth time, with his face now pressed into a pillow and Hua Cheng’s cock still tirelessly pumping his prone body, chimes still jingling as brightly and eagerly as they had at the start, Xie Lian himself began to beg for that as well.

“S-s-sssan Lang…” Xie Lian could hardly get the words out, his tongue felt thick and heavy and useless in his mouth. “S-san Lang, need…need it…”

Hua Cheng moaned against Xie Lian’s neck, and briefly paused in his efforts to cover every inch of it with bite marks and hickies. His mouth moved to Xie Lian’s ear; biting it once before he spoke into it, sounding rich and low and just as wrecked as Xie Lian.

“Anything His Highness needs, anything, anything, I’ll give it – mnnnhh, mmm – oh, Your Highness, Your Highness is so good to me, so good to this San Lang…mmh, feels so perfect inside, does it feel as good for gege? Is he ready to come again for me?”

Xie Lian let out a desperate moan as Hua Cheng expertly adjusted his angle to aim his thrusts against that spot inside of him. He wouldn’t last much longer, he wouldn’t, he couldn’t, and he didn’t think he’d be able to stay conscious for round ten. And Hua Cheng still hadn’t come even once inside of him – Xie Lian could endure many hardships, but this was too much, too much!

“San Lang! I want it, I want that!” Xie Lian wailed with the desperation of a dying man. “Ah-ahhhh, I need it, I need you to give it all to me, please, please, won’t you please – ohh! Please, please have mercy, San Lang-gege, please have mercy and fill me up…”

Xie Lian’s heart was racing like a parade drum. He could only imagine the mayhem being wrought upon his husband’s dick by the cock ring’s enchantment. But he trusted his husband – he trusted him to break through, break through with him and see the limits of the highest heavens –

Hua Cheng let out a shout and a shockwave of spiritual energy strong enough to blow back the curtains on the bed, and released into Xie Lian enough come that Xie Lian felt his stomach grow taut with it. He felt his eyes roll back into his head, and let himself pass out midway through his ninth orgasm.

His conscious mind swam back after some time, and he found himself bundled against Hua Cheng’s strong chest. Morning was just breaking outside the window, but today was a day for sleeping in. Xie Lian breathed in his husband’s scent and let himself be lulled back to sleep. He still had to make that birthday dinner today, and needed to regain his strength.

--

“Oh? Did something happen out here?”

While things were stewing, Xie Lian needed to make a quick run to the market to pick up some supplies he’d forgotten. Outside of Paradise Manor, he found Yin Yu with a broom, sweeping a path through the severed hands that had been scattered on the road outside. If Xie Lian were to make a rough estimate, there were approximately eleven hundred sixty-seven of them. There was also a crudely written banner hung in the blossoming trees on the roadside, that read: HAPPAY BARTH DAY LARD CHENGZHU.

“They do try, don’t they?” Xie Lian said to Yin Yu, fondly. “Once I’m back from the market, I’ll help you clean up out here.”

“They do try,” Yin Yu agreed. “And no, no, Your Highness has business to attend to.”

Xie Lian smiled and gave a grateful bow. “Your Highness Yin Yu is welcome to join us for dinner. I’ll save some stew for him! Please don’t hesitate to drop by later.”

Yin Yu watched as Xie Lian expertly stepped around the hands littering the streets, then disappeared into the bustle of the Ghost City market. He gave a deep, resigned sigh and returned to sweeping.

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