#and did a ton more weaving

[milkweedman]

took me until today to figure out there was a purpose to the edge on the beater (shuttle race) AND what type of shuttles i had bought on ebay (flying shuttles) and also how to use them. i then put all of this knowledge together to fuck up my selvedge spectacularly lmfao

[brokenmenswhore]

hate | remus lupin

pairing: remus lupin x fem!reader

summary: hate sex kink :)

warnings: smut (MDNI 18+), sexual harassment (he flips her skirt up, nonconsensual), remus is mean

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“You know I can’t go to a Gryffindor anything,” you pleaded, trying to get your best friend to stop pushing you into attending the party.

“There will be a ton of people there! Remus won’t even notice you,” she bargained.

You sighed. “I’m really, really not in the mood for his shit tonight,” you started, closing your books and cleaning up your schoolwork, “If I agree to go, I’m making it your responsibility to keep him away from me all night.”

Your best friend squealed and jumped up, hugging you in excitement.

You and Remus Lupin never got along. In first year, he and his friends would mercilessly tease you about the length of your hair. You were young, and you ignored it, but he always found a reason to tease you. In fifth year, his best friend Sirius began to taunt you, nonstop asking you about how sexually experienced you were and how Remus could help you. In sixth year, Remus became mean. He would throw your stuff around, spread rumors, turn people against you, and more. He became ruthlessly mean and you did everything you could do to avoid being anywhere near him. You even pleaded with professors to switch your classes if he was in them.

Your friends constantly teased you about him, claiming he was into you, but you never paid much attention to it. Sure, he was hot, but so were his friends, and that didn’t overshadow the fact that they were horrible.

You hated him. You physically recoiled at the sight of him. In private, sometimes your hand would find its way in between your legs, and you would think of Remus and some of the ways he would touch your hair or pinch your skin, but everywhere apart from the privacy of your bed, you loathed him.

The moment you stepped into the Gryffindor common room, you scanned the room for Remus, not spotting him or his usual crowd of Sirius, James, and Peter. You felt relieved, allowing yourself to relax a bit.

You grabbed a pumpkin juice, sitting on the common room couch. Your dress was shorter than you were used to, and sitting down almost exposed you in it, so you crossed your legs to protect your modesty.

“Who the fuck let you out of the house in that?” Remus said, plopping down next to you.

“Who the fuck let you out of the house at all?” you retorted, leaning forward to stand up. You were not in the mood for him.

Remus grabbed the bottom of your dress as you stood, trying to pull you back down. You swatted at his hand, half-standing. “Let go of my dress, Remus.”

“Oops,” Remus said, flipping the skirt up and briefly exposing your backside.

You instinctively quickly pushed your dress back down, turning your ass away from Remus. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” you asked, trying to keep your cool.

“Just wanted a peek,” Remus laughed.

“You’re sick,” you said, starting to walk away from the couch.

Remus stood up when you began walking away, following you around the room. You noticed, trying to weave your way around the mass of bodies to lose him, but he was too quick for you.

You ducked out of the common room, sneaking down a corridor and deciding this wasn’t worth it. Going back to your common room would be the only thing to give you solace, because Remus was incapable of leaving you alone, ever. The second he saw you, he had to torment and tease you until you found a way out of his sight. You were going to kill your best friend, how did she let him sit down right next to you?

“Walk any faster and you’re gonna fall in those heels,” he spoke from behind you.

You stopped short in the darkened corridor. You were sick of this. It was time to stop.

“What’s your problem, Remus?” you snapped.

“You’re my problem,” he answered, “I thought you were at least smart enough to put that together?”

You sighed. “You’ve been bullying me for seven years Remus. Seven years. Based on what? What did I ever do to you? Huh?”

“You do things like walking around in those stupid little short dresses,” he replied, completely unbothered.

“What the fuck does that even mean?” you spat back, trying your hardest to keep your voice quiet and avoid getting caught.

“Sheesh, language,” Remus scolded.

“Remus,” you said, taking a deep breath and evening out your tone, “you’ve been abusing me since we were like eleven. Why can’t you just get sick of me already?”

Remus moved closer to you, invading your personal space. He began to twirl a tendril of your hair in his fingers. “I enjoy you too much.”

You threw your hands up. “Why do I even try-“

Remus clasped a hand over your mouth. “Shut up.”

You protested from under his hand, trying to pull his hand away.

“Shut up, someone’s coming.”

You froze, immediately giving in to Remus’s efforts to quiet you down. Footsteps were approaching, and Remus pulled you into a nearby broom closet to avoid any potential run-ins. The closet was small, and you were too close to Remus for comfort. When Remus stopped hearing footsteps, he uncovered your mouth.

“You’re welcome,” he smiled.

“Don’t ever touch me again,” you warned, “I’m so sick of you.”

“Sick of me, are you? And you don’t think I have my reasons for treating you the way I do?”

Your eyes widened. “So why don’t you just tell me what those reasons are? Let me fix them so you can get out of my life.”

“I just really, really, hate you,” Remus spat, your faces too close.

“Oh, I guarantee I hate you more,” you responded.

You and Remus stared at each other for a moment, both worked up, before he pressed you against the wall, kissing you roughly. Your first instinct was to push him off and fight, but it felt too good, and you found yourself kissing him back.

The kiss was anything but intimate, full of pure hunger, lust, and hatred.

Remus quickly began to kiss down your jawline and on your neck, sucking a sweet spot right below your earlobe. You whined, the sound escaping your lips before you even knew it was coming.

His hand traveled downward, slightly lifting your dress as his fingers played with the waistband of your underwear. He stopped kissing your neck for a moment, searching your eyes for approval.

You nodded your head slightly to prompt him to continue, and he immediately dipped his fingers into your underwear, roughly rubbing circles on your clit.

You tried to control your moans, not wanting to get caught, but also not wanting to allow Remus the satisfaction. He noticed, and it only made him rougher.

Without warning, he shoved two long fingers inside of you. You let out another whine, your head thrown back against the wall, allowing Remus access to your neck again. He sucked and bit at the skin, marking you as his fingers fucked in and out of you.

“I hate this dress,” he sighed, increasing the pace of his fingers and curling them inside of you, “I hate how you always know better than me, I hate how you always blush when James talks to you, I hate your stupid superiority complex, and I hate hate hate Meadowes for kissing you in the greenhouse in fourth year.”

He said all of this without letting up, continuing his assault on your cunt. When he felt you begin to squeeze his fingers, he pulled them out of you, sucking your juices off of them before hoisting one of your legs up to his waist.

“I fucking hate the way you taste,” he added, dropping his pants and lining up his cock with your hole as fast as possible.

He slammed his entire length into you at once, causing you to moan out at the intrusion. He begin to thrust into you immediately, not giving you time to adjust to his size. He held your leg around his waist, allowing him easier access to ruthlessly pound into your cunt.

You wanted to respond, to make it clear that you truly loathed him, but all words escaped you as he fucked you against the broom closet door, his face buried in your neck as your body rocked against the wood.

He was becoming feral. He spoke with each thrust, “I. Fucking. Hate. You.”

Tears began to fall from your eyes at the intensity. He was fucking you harder than you ever thought possible. His cock was nearly splitting you open, the length and power combined reaching spots in your cervix you didn’t think possible.

“Rem-“ you whined, beginning to squeeze around his cock.

A hand wrapped around your throat as his eyes finally met yours. “I hate how fucking pretty that sounds coming from you,” he growled, placing another desperate kiss on your lips.

You were whimpering and crying, Remus taking full control of your body. “Rem, please-“

“Tell me what you think of me,” he demanded.

“Rem, I can’t-“

“Tell. Me.”

You tried to keep your eyes open, your face level with his. “I loathe you,” you breathed out, adrenaline taking over, “I absolutely f-fucking hate you.”

With that, Remus brutally lifted your other leg, wrapping it around his waist, the angle changing without him ever pulling out. He braced himself against the door, a hand next to your head as he slammed into you as fast as he could, chasing his own high as you came around him, milking him until he reached his own apex.

“Fuck,” he moaned, and after a few more thrusts and violent snapping of his hips, he came inside of you, breathing heavily and the air hot.

He pulled out of you, dropping your legs, causing you to nearly fall over. You caught yourself, stumbling as you smoothed out your dress.

You and Remus exchanged a look, sweaty and panting, and you broke the silence first.

“I’m going back to my common room,” you told him, “to forget that just happened.”

Remus pouted. “I don’t think you want that, doll,” he teased, “there’s some desires only Rem can fulfill.”

You almost slapped him. He fully just fucked you, and was already teasing you.

“I hate you,” you reassured him, swinging open the broom closet door and walking back to your common room.

[beardedalcoholic]

Space Cowboys

The humans had abandoned them. After seemingly endless cycles of fighting the battle was about to be lost and the war with it, and the humans had left them to fight for themselves.

‘So much for the legendary pack-bonding of humans.’ Krillna thought to himself as he leaned around his bunker to lay down some suppressing fire on the enemy. Tungsten rods magnetically accelerated to near supersonic speed ripped into the battle field and enemies died by the dozens…but it wasn’t enough.

Seemingly endless waves of the reptilian enemies known as the Slentine seemed to crawl and slither towards their position. Fields of scales and fangs greeted him every time he looked around his barrier, looks of desperation and hopelessness looked back every time he turned away from the battle.

“You would think the humans could have at least left us the weapons before they ran like cowards!” cried out one soldier before he was cut down by enemy fire.

Rollin’ rollin’ rollin’

“Did anyone else hear that?” Krillna asked after firing another salvo of rounds towards the slowly advancing enemy. Looking at his ammo counter and seeing it was empty, Krillna threw his weapon to the ground and grabbed the ceremonial bone dagger the warriors of his people were gifted upon maturity.

Rollin’ rollin’ rollin’

Holding the blade to his chest and breathing the prayers of his youth, Krillna begged the seven skies of his homeland for the power of the mighty storm, pleaded for his spirit to be flown on the winds to his ancestors. Finding himself at the end of his prayers and ready to face the enemy head on and to fight tooth, bone and claw in the ways of his ancestors, Krillna couldn’t help but think he heard something on the wind again. Looking to the forest side of the battlefield, Krillna felt a rumbling through the pads of his clawed foot.

Rollin’ rollin’ rollin’ RAWHIIIIIDE!

With the sound of thunder and snapping trees, Krillna felt all three of his hearts stop and fall.

Gierophants, mighty horned beasts weighing several tons with great crests of hardened skin behind the skull to protect the neck and a row of spines extending the length of the spine, each one several times as tall as Krillna’s seven foot frame. Easy to anger, nearly impossible to outrun, harder to damage and often found in herds of fifty to one-hundred the gierophant was this world’s largest inhabitant, but Krillna thought he saw something on the back of the lead beast.

Humans.

Humans were riding the gierophants…a herd of what looked to be sixty or more and each one had a human standing on the snout of the creature and even more behind the crest or between the dorsal spines.

RAIN AND WIND AND WEATHER

The humans were either lashed to a spine or each other with lengths of rope and each one was firing wildly into the horde of enemies, hanging sideways from the flanks of the great beasts, weaving between the spines, crouching behind the crest and all were firing their rifles.

HELL BENT FOR LEATHER

“Sir? Am I having a substance dream or are those humans riding Gierophants into the Slentine ranks in a stampede while singing what sounds like a human battle song?” A young warrior asked in disbelief as the battle field seemed to come to a stop. The pause didn’t last long as the slentine soldiers quickly turned their weapons on the stampede of human madness and animal rage.

WISHING MY GIRL WAS BY MY SIIIDEEE!

“You are most definitely seeing this pup, the crazy humans went and did the impossible again…WARRIORS OF CANTRAXA!” Krillna called out to the stunned warriors behind him, filled with a renewed hope for victory.

“DRAW YOUR BLADES AND RELOAD YOUR WEAPONS, THE HUMANS HAVE GIVEN US THIS CHANCE AND BY THE FIRE PLAINS OF OUR HOME WORLD I WILL NOT STAND BY AND MAKE NOTHING OF IT!” Holding his blade high above his head the Pack-Master let loose the battle cry of his ancestors with such ferocity that it seemed to ring from the very heavens, turned from his comrades and ran face first into the chaos of the newly evened battle.

ALL THE THINGS IM MISSIN’

Three hardened battle packs of Cantraxa warriors, thought to be beaten down by sheer numbers and attrition, thought to be defeated and simply too stupid to understand… howled. Each and every one felt what the humans referred to as battle lust and with the feeling of fire singing in their veins each and every one reached deep into their souls and called the ancient war cries of times long past. GOOD VITTLES, LOVE AND KISSIN’

The humans sang on, swinging wildly from the sides of the Gierophants or hanging on with one hand and firing with the other, seemingly oblivious to the rounds of enemy’s fire flying past them. With every human felled the others seemed to sing louder. Krillna was in awe of these small hairless creatures as he ran towards the battle, they rode the great beasts of this world like they were born to it, they faced a horde of enemies without fear and sang their defiance in the face of death and defeat. ARE WAITING AT THE END OF MY RIIIIIIDEEEEE~

================================================

The battle was won, the slentine ranks had been broken in half by the stampede and when the front ranks turned to fire on the new threat they were drowned in an avalanche of fur and fang, bullet and bone from the Cantraxa warriors.

The humans had run over and shot down much of the enemy, the field had been churned to a bloody mud pit of broken bodies and weapons, the Gierophants were long gone by then, the humans had dismounted and returned to base.

Krillna watched in curious amazement as the humans went about their post battle chores.

Groups of humans combing the battlefield for survivors, pulling bodies from the muck and determining if they could be saved or not. Slentine and Cantraxian alike were given final honors or medical aid…mere hours before these small hairless maniacs were riding juggernauts of death into battle while singing and laughing and now, they were providing aid and respect to not only their comrades but the enemy as well.

Amazing graaaceee

A hauntingly sad and seemingly profound song floated like fog over the battle field from somewhere among the humans.

How sweet the sound

Funeral pyres and graves were dug according to cultural wishes, wounded were cared for regardless of species or alignment in the war. Bodies counted and tears were shed that day and as the last sun in the sky fell below the horizon, Krillna found himself surrounded by his warriors and humans.

Holding a strange liquid in his cup, the humans called it beer…or maybe stout?...Krillna looked to the leader of the humans as she stood upon a table laden with food and drink.

“Tonight, we celebrate our victory!” The humans cheered and the Cantraxans yipped and howled like pups.

 “Tonight, we mourn our glorious fallen!” With a silence that choked the very soul, every human raised their drink to the memory of those they had lost and drank deeply. Krillna and his warriors all mimicked the humans in their silence and honors.

 “Tonight…we honor our worthy enemies.” The commander of the humans raised her cup one last time and as one all the humans followed. Krillna could not see the reason behind the last one but was not about to comment on it while surrounded by humans.

Instruments were tuned and soon employed to their fullest extent as humans began dancing and singing, wagers were made, games were played and for a few moments Krillna could almost believe that they were simply back in his homeland celebrating the lunar convergence festival.

Spotting the human leader on the outskirts of the revelry Krillna silently approached the human as she slowly drank and watched those she had shed blood with. Stepping on a fallen can of some kind alerted the commander and as she whipped her head towards Krillna, he froze in place…the look in her eyes was not that of a celebration, but rather that of battle mad soldiers. Items within reach categorized as weapons, responses and plans ranging from peacefully violent to disturbingly chaotic flashed through her face in seconds. Her grip on the cup she held and the tensing of her muscles told Krillna that she had to stop herself from launching the cup at his face.

Raising his clawed hands in a sign of peace Krillna approached the commander slowly. As he approached the tiny human, no more than five feet tall, Krillna noticed tears leaking from her eyes in a steady stream cutting tracks through the remaining dirt and grime upon her cheeks. Hands shaking the commander raised the nearly impromptu projectile to her mouth and took a steadying sip before addressing the large warrior.

“What can I do for you Pack-Master?” Asked the commander as she turned her eyes back to the celebration before her.

“You do not celebrate victory like the others? Why do you spill tears so freely War Mother?” Krillna asked, using the honorific of the greatest female warriors of his people.

“I uh…it just takes a little time for me to wind down from battle and get into the spirit of things, eventually I’ll head out and show these youngsters how to really party but for now I will just have to deal with the aftermath of the adrenalin.” The commander said with a small shake to her voice.

“I have heard of this adrenalin, most species would simply die if exposed to it but you humans produce it naturally?” The Pack-Master asked.

“Yes, our bodies naturally produce it and well…it dissipates quicker for some and for others it sticks around longer. Battle madness, bloodlust, berserker rage and more are just different names of the same thing, active or excess adrenalin…our minds are changed and muscles freed of restraints while under its influence but afterwards we have to put the beast back in the cage and deal with the mess it made, physically, mentally and spiritually.” The commander responded with a look in her eyes that said she was looking deep into the past.

“How did you humans tame the Gierophants? It was previously thought impossible to even safely approach them never mind ride them or direct them.” Krillna asked in an attempt to steer the conversation away from the maudlin thoughts the commander seemed to be sinking into.

With an almost visible brightening of her features the commander looked up at Krillna.

“We didn’t actually tame them, we were trying to find either a good escape route to get everyone out or possibly a way to ambush the Slentine army, make them fight on two fronts as it were. We ran across the herd of Gierophants by accident and sort of came up with the plan on the spot, we figured if they started to stampede in our direction the base would be destroyed but if they went just little to the side they would hit our enemies. Jackson over there used to be what we call a ‘Cowboy’ and said if you can point a bull’s nose in one direction the body would follow, so we made some lassos and climbing rigs and well, the rest is history.” The commander finished with a small shrug and a decidedly less shaky sip of her drink.

 Krillna was almost to shocked to breath.

“You found a herd of the planet’s largest and most dangerous animal, decided to irritate them into charging you with the enemy directly behind, hoping that they would run over said enemy and while they did that you threw ropes on them so you could climb onto them and ride them…you humans are insane.” with a shake of his great furred head Krillna could only thank the seven skies that these lunatics were on their side.

With a laugh the commander tipped the last of her drink back and wrapped her hand around one of his fingers, his hand being large enough to completely encompass her own, and began to pull him towards the firelight of the bonfires, a mischievous light in her eyes and a smile that spoke of wicked delights to come on her lips.

“Oh you haven’t even begun to see the madness of humanity, come and we shall sing you songs of our people.” The commander laughed as the crowd enveloped them, music wound through the air like smoke, soldiers and warriors alike danced and spun and Krillna could only laugh as he downed the rest of his drink and threw reservations to the wind with a final thought.

‘Humans are weird, but wonderful.

[warping-realities]

A Night in the Devil's Den - Part III

Fred was just stepping out of the bathroom next to the main stage when he witnessed Mark's transformation firsthand.

He was still dumbfounded, trying to come up with excuses for what he saw—it must have been some kind of light trick, but Mark wasn’t the type to pull a stunt like that. That was more Jamie's style; maybe he convinced Mark to get into this. Yeah, it had to be something like that, he thought, coming up with justifications as he decided to head back to the bar to look for his friends and get an explanation for all this. Just as he was about to take his first step, someone spoke to him.

“It could have been you! But now another kind of life awaits you.” Turning around quickly, Fred found himself face to face with the club’s bouncer, who was smiling enigmatically at him.

Not wanting to get into trouble and fighting the curiosity to ask the man what the hell he meant, Fred continued on his way. Halfway to the bar, weaving through the crowd, he spotted the performer Marco, all sweaty, strutting on stage toward the VIP area where the club manager was grinning at him. Finally stopping, he flexed his muscles.

“What a freak show,” Fred thought, but he couldn’t look away. “Why and how did Mark get into this? And how the hell did that transformation happen?” he pondered, diverting his gaze when the two men began kissing passionately, but not before sneaking one last peek and seeing them both looking right at him, smirking as if they knew something he didn’t. Which was probably true. He needed to find those two jerks and get the hell out of there.

As he approached the bar, he got shoved by one of the muscular drunks dominating the place. “Where had all the women gone?” He was sure there had been a ton of them when they arrived. Picking himself up, he realized he somehow ended up behind the bar. A young Latino man in his twenties looked at him, grinning like he knew him.

“There you are, Papi! I’ve been waiting for you all night!”

“What the hell was this?” He didn’t know who this guy was, but there was something in his eyes…

“Jamie?”

“It’s Javi, you’re hurting my feelings, Papi, after you took my ass so hard, you forget my name like that…” The younger guy said, stepping closer while his smile fading.

He needed to get out of there; something was seriously wrong, and he had to leave—now! Without thinking twice, he stood up and bolted.

When he reached the entrance, he once again bumped into the mysterious Mr. Shay, who was caressing and kissing Marco—or was it actually Mark?

Seizing the chance to escape that madhouse, he slipped out the door, breathing a sigh of relief for a moment before running smack into the massive black bouncer, who stared him down as if daring him to leave.

With no way out, he turned back only to find himself facing an even scarier sight. Mr. Shay, this time alone but with those massive horns on display, and Fred was sure the guy didn’t have time to put on any kind of prosthetics. To make matters worse, he heard the man’s voice inside his head.

“Fred, Fred, Freddie, always the weakest, always humiliated, needing to learn to fight with words because no one ever taught you how to use your fists. But does it have to be this way? Let me show you another option, Freddie; if you refuse to accept it, you can walk out that door, and no one will stop you, not even Hank out there, though I think he’ll be disappointed; he seems to have taken a liking to you.”

“I don’t trust you.”

“That offends me, Freddie; I always give my clients a choice. You should know that from all the stories going around about me, most of them lies, but this one’s true. Plus, you don’t have choice.” The demon said as Fred fell into a dark abyss.

The first image he saw was of a blond kid like him talking to a strong, muscular older man.

“… Frank, you have to be strong; our land is surrounded by enemies, the Soviet Union has fallen, and independence will come, but we will always be surrounded by foes.”

… you have to be strong… be strong…

He was strong; by seventeen, he was a prodigy in various forms of combat, including Brazilian jiu-jitsu, boxing, and Krav Maga. He honored his father's request, becoming a man of few words but decisive actions.

… decisive actions… actions….

“Action will unfold at the border, and anyone who dares think it shouldn’t be taken seriously will have to deal with me.”

Lieutenant František Andel of the Czech Republic Army was known for his ruthlessness, always ready for war.

… ready for war… war…

The Russian invasion of Ukraine put all the states previously belonging to the Soviet Union on high alert, and the Czech Republic was one of the first to provide all possible humanitarian and military aid to the country. Frank was sent to ensure the delivery of projectile shipments, although under strict orders not to get involved in the conflict. What he didn’t expect was to meet Bohdan, a young man 15 years his junior, forced by circumstances to serve his country. Bohdan wasn’t like him; he was a sensitive, affectionate kid with a fantastic ass. Against everything he should have done, Frank let himself get involved, only to see the kid taken from him, which made all of Frank’s rage surface, causing him to lose his head and attack the Russians mercilessly in the midst of his despair.

… despair… despair… no mercy…

Frank looked mercilessly at the desperate face of his opponent, more than a year after Bohdan’s death, and he felt nothing—no pleasure, no anger, just a huge void that even the violent underground fights or the booze he downed every night couldn’t fill.

… booze… fill….

“What do you want?” he asked with a serious face while waiting for the owner of the dive fill hiss glass, maybe the seventh or eighth of the night, although deep down he knew that not all the booze in the world would be able to satisfy him.

“I have a job offer for you, a new beginning, new possibilities, maybe new… lover.” The man said with a smile.

The flood of information was so overwhelming that Fred could barely move. Still, with all the effort in the world, he turned and bolted for the door. Only to hear the demon’s voice whisper in his ear. “Unfortunately for you, Fred, my deal was made with Jamie; you were never my client.” Then with a single step, that torrent of information flooded his mind once more, with many more scenes and memories, as his body expanded, muscles piling on, covered by the black security uniform, and his young face aged a decade and a half until it became a tribute to rugged masculinity, and František found himself in front of his boss back inside the club.

“Called for me, boss?”

“Yes, Frank, Poncho came to talk to me about your relationship with his nephew. As antiquated as it may be, he wants to know what your intentions are with the kid. And since the man has been with me for centuries, I can’t ignore his concerns.”

“He doesn’t need to worry, boss; I have the best intentions for his nephew.”

“As the saying goes, the road to hell is paved with good intentions.”

“With all due respect, sir, I don’t believe in hell. Hell is in our heads, and I’ve already lived mine, and I won’t miss the chance to find happiness before another hell comes.”

“How can you say you don’t believe in hell while working here, working for me?”

“Honestly, sir, if this is hell and you really are the devil, which I don’t think you are, I wouldn’t mind spending eternity here!”

“You flatter me, Frank! Now go find Poncho and calm his heart before you replace Hank; he’s itching for some fun.”

Frank walked through the club with all the confidence of someone who knew a single word from him could end any trouble, although deep down he longed for the chance for a good fight.

When he arrived at the bar, he didn’t find Poncho, but standing at the door leading to a secret room was Javier, looking at him with a seductive gaze.

“Did I do something wrong, Papi, for you to ignore me like this?”

“I’m not ignoring you, kid; I just had to sort out an urgent issue, and besides, your uncle was around. He was complaining to the boss, so I need to find him to talk about my intentions with you.”

“And what intentions are those, Papi?”

“The most serious ones possible, Javi.”

“How boring, Papi, because right now all I wanna do is have some fun.” The younger guy said, turning and swaying his hips seductively into the room, and Frank couldn’t resist following him inside with a smile on his face.

The two were wrapped up after some wild sex in the mirrored room overlooking the dance floor and stage of the club that the boss liked to use sometimes to feel like everyone was watching him while he pulled off the most unimaginable acts of depravity, although those on the other side couldn’t actually see anything through the glass.

“We need to go; our break is almost over, and I still haven’t talked to your uncle.” Frank said, getting up and pulling the smaller man close.

“Just one more kiss, Papi!” Javier said, attacking the bigger man with a passionate kiss until they were interrupted.

“I thought you were going to talk to Poncho, Frank. Instead, you came to deflower his nephew.” The boss commented, smiling, accompanied by the Italian porn star who was one of his regular partners.

“Sorry, boss, I didn’t find Poncho, so…”

“… so you decided to use my room to satisfy your carnal needs.”

“Sorry, sir, it won’t happen again.”

“Certainly not, because next time I’ll be joining you.” The man said, grinning. “Now go; Hank is gonna lose the little hair he has left if you don’t replace him soon. But Javi stays; Marco and I are gonna play a little. I hope there’s no problem with that.”

“No, sir, Javi can play with whoever he wants, as long as he knows the serious stuff is only with me. But I gotta say, after the speech you made about me needing to talk to Poncho…”

“Ahhh, hypocrisy is one of the perks of being the devil, my dear.” The boss replied with a mischievous smile.

….

“I see you didn’t waste any time.” Frank commented as he saw Hank approaching, wearing shorts and loafers instead of the uniform pants and boots.

“I gotta be quick before all the good ones are taken. You already put your paws on Poncho’s nephew, and I’m not crazy enough to try anything with the boss’s Italian. Though maybe I shouldn’t worry too much.”

“Why not?”

“Take a look at who’s coming over there.” Hank said, nodding toward a group of three young guys who were smiling as they walked toward them at the front of the line.

“Jerome’s group?” Frank asked.

“Jerome’s group.” Hank replied, grinning. “Hope you manage to catch at least some of the fun.”

“Oh, I’ll find a way. I’ll see you inside.” He replied before strutting confidently toward the boys.

“Hey, fellas, what do you want here?” he asked, feeling a sense of déjà vu.

“Good night, sir! Jerome told us to go straight to the bouncer at the main door and said that he hopes… that he hopes you… you have a… a hell of a night.” One of the braver kids said, or maybe just the most daring.

“Jerome, huh? IDs?”

“Here you go, sir.” One of them said, handing over the IDs he knew were fake, though he still made a point to scrutinize them with a serious look, just to intimidate the boys a little.

“Any problem, sir?”

“Nope, on the contrary, looks like you guys got VIP passes. Jerome must’ve liked you a lot.” He said while fiddling with a walkie-talkie before speaking again. “Jerome’s group is on the way.” He radioed before handing the IDs back to the kids and cracking a smile.

“Boys, looks like we’re all in for a hell of a night!”

[tinyproprodigy]

𖤐 ִֶָ 𓂃 🧷

"Staggered to meet you"

Neito Monoma x reader (F)

Neito Monoma swaggered into the Gym Gamma training arena, his blond hair perfectly coiffed and his U.A. uniform impeccably pressed. Flashing his trademark smirk, he scanned the crowd of students until his gaze landed on you - a relatively unremarkable member of Class 1-A.

"Well, well, if it isn't little (Y/N)," he drawled, sauntering over. "I was hoping to spar against one of the elite students today, but I suppose you'll have to do."

You narrowed your eyes as Monoma lazily twirled a lock of hair around his finger. His incessant teasing and constant attempts to rile up your class had become tiresome. But today, you were determined to wipe that smug grin off his face.

"Bring it on, Monoma," you retorted, cracking your knuckles. "Maybe you'll finally get that ego of yours knocked down a few pegs."

Monoma let out a derisive laugh. "My, my, such confidence! Though I can hardly blame you for being starstruck in my presence." He assumed a fighting stance, his eyes glinting with Challenge. "Don't worry, I'll go easy on you."

The match began, and almost immediately, Monoma's copied quirks gave him the upper hand. Bursts of fire scorched the arena floor as he unleashed a barrage of attacks. You dodged and weaved, biding your time as he continued his relentless assault.

Then, just as Monoma began to tire, you saw your opening. With a speed he didn't anticipate, you closed the distance between you, your fist connecting squarely with his chiseled jaw.

Monoma's eyes went wide with shock as he stumbled backward, tripping over his own feet and crashing to the ground in an undignified heap. The entire class erupted into raucous laughter and cheers as the great Neito Monoma found himself flat on his back, staring up at you in disbelief.

"Impossible..." he mumbled, gingerly prodding his soon-to-be-bruised jaw. "How could I, the elite Neito Monoma, be floored by someone from the inferior Class 1-A?"

You offered him a sarcastic smile and a hand up. "I guess all that ego finally caught up to you," you quipped, trying (and failing) to stifle a giggle at his ruffled appearance.

As the days passed, Monoma found his thoughts continually drifting back to that fateful sparring session. No matter how he tried to rationalize it, he couldn't shake the image of you standing over him, your (h/c) hair tousled and a triumphant grin on your face.

It was... oddly captivating.

He started noticing little things about you that he'd never paid attention to before. The way your nose scrunched up when you concentrated in class. The melodic lilt of your laugh as you joked with your friends. The confident sway of your walk as you strode down the hallway.

Monoma caught himself staring more than once, only to be met with a quizzical look or a teasing remark from his classmates. He tried to brush it off, but the truth became increasingly difficult to ignore.

Neito Monoma, the self-proclaimed "elite" who looked down on Class 1-A, had developed a massive, all-consuming crush on you.

The realization hit him like a ton of bricks one afternoon as he watched you sparring with Midoriya. You moved with a grace and power that

left him slack-jawed, and when you caught his eye and flashed him a lopsided grin, his heart did a traitorous little flip in his chest.

Monoma was officially smitten.

From that day on, his attempts to get under your skin took on a new, almost flirtatious undertone. He went out of his way to seek you out, always finding an excuse to be in your vicinity. Mundane things like watching you take notes in class or eat your lunch suddenly became fascinating displays worthy of his utmost attention.

"Eyes up here, Monoma," you'd tease whenever you caught him staring, causing his cheeks to flush a vivid shade of crimson.

His classmates mercilessly ribbed him about his not-so-subtle infatuation, but Monoma couldn't bring himself to care. He was a man on a mission - a mission to win your heart, no matter how bruised his ego became in the process.

After all, he reasoned to himself, a little humility was a small price to pay for the affection of someone as amazing as you. And if getting knocked down a peg or two was what it took, then Neito Monoma would gladly kiss the ground you walked on.

[iliketangerines]

body worship/praising

a/n: consider this a part 3 to drunk sex. also, thanks to @neteyamsoare and @inlovewithpandora for hosting this event! it was a ton of fun to write for, and i'll have to catch up on reading all of the fics underneath this event!

pairing: tsu'tey x afab!dreamwalker!reader

warnings: nsfw (MDNI), porn with feelings, pussy eating, public sex, praise kink (sort of)

Tsu’tey watches you as you stand proudly next to Jake, his face and body painted in the familiar swirls of white paint that proved he was one with the Omatikaya Clan

he watches as you smile brightly and place a hand on his shoulder, the others quickly joining in to create an interconnected circle of all of them

his hand hesitates above your shoulder, and then he places it down, feeling you stiffen underneath the pressure

your tail curls down low and around your leg in an effort to self-sooth and your ears pin back to your head, but you keep that bright smile on your face as to try and not disrupt the ceremony

what he had done back at the celebration was wrong, he knows it was, but somehow he cannot find the bravery to confront you, to talk to you about how he felt

a great warrior, felled by his own emotions, it was almost embarrassing, but Tsu’tey squashes the feeling and instead gathers the pride of Jake being accepted

he still didn’t like the dreamwalker, even if he had completed his Iknimaya before you, because even if you had none of the physical abilities, you were fully and completely Na’vi in your heart

Tsu’tey had yet to determine whether Jake’s heart truly belongs with the Omatikaya clan

the ceremony ends in a a blur and before he can even reach out to speak to you, you shrug off his shoulder and walk over to Neytiri, your new mentor after that night

you give her a quick greeting, lips moving in a conversation that Tsu’tey cannot hear, but he wants to so desperately, to be near you

but never once do you even spare him a glance, simply walking away in the direction opposite from Tsu’tey

he approaches Neytiri afterwards, congratulating her on how her student had passed the Ikinimaya and that Jake was now finally a warrior

she only gives him a scowl, pushing at his shoulder and telling him to go and make it up to you, that whatever he had done all those weeks ago had affected everything you did

the warrior can only look down in shame, and Tsu’tey says that he knows, that he should apologize to you

Neytiri sighs and says that you’ve gone off to the pali fields, that the animals brought you great comfort and that you needed a little more practice in riding

Tsu’tey nods in thanks and goes off to chase you, weaving through the crowd and into the sounds of the forest as he looks for you by the pali training fields

as he brushes past a large leaf, he finds you riding calmly on one of the pali, gently guiding it in a circle around the field, eyes focused on the path in front of you

you’ve greatly improved since you’ve come here, but he doesn’t ever remember telling you that you had done well, that you were doing better

clearing his throat, he says that you’ve improved, voice echoing in the air

the pali noticeably stiffens before grunting and growing agitated, hooves stomping into the ground and head shaking in irritation

you quickly unmount the pali and break tsaheylu, muttering to him that you didn’t want to talk to him, and you try to brush past him

he reaches out for you, words failing in his mouth as he watches the view of your back slowly disappear into the foliage

calling out for you, he says that he’s sorry, he’s so sorry, that he never meant to hurt you

it gives you pause, your hand holding onto a leaf blocking your path, and your ears flick in interest at his apology

but you don’t turn around, and Tsu’tey takes it as a signal to continues

he walks closer toward you, each step slow and careful as he speaks, saying that he regret that he had left you like that, that he knows he hurt you and that he shouldn’t have done that

slowly you turn around, just as Tsu’tey stops in front of you, and he purses his lips, taking just a moment to think before saying that you were one of them, that he knows of the effort you had put in to learn their ways and the patience you had to deal with his short temper

those past few weeks without you had been torturous, slow, and he missed you, he had missed your smile, your voice, the sound of your footsteps behind him

Tsu’tey drops his head slightly, casting his gaze downward, and he says once more that he’s sorry, if you would forgive him

there’s no answer from you for a second, and he waits, trying to sooth the nervousness raging in his stomach

your voice is like a lullaby, cutting through the noise of the darkening forest, and you say that you forgive him, that you know where he’s coming from, that your people has done a lot of harm to his people

every word you say is slow, careful as you speak in na’vi, and Tsu’tey barely breathes, trying to absorb your every word and sound that you make

he lets out a breath when you finish, closing his eyes and thanking you, that you truly were a pure soul, just as the atokirina had shown

the night he met you flashes in his head, the way you had looked so soft and confused, clinging to yourself, the way that a single atokirina floated down from the sky as the tsahik judged you and landed perfectly in your palms, the way you had stared at it with wide eyes and with a held breath

that night, Tsu’tey should’ve known you were not a demon but just someone who had come from a system that hurt and killed, an unwilling puppet in a destructive system

he breathes out that you are a pure soul, that you were better than he would ever be, and he hears you let out a huff

opening his eyes, he’s met with your slight smile, your freckles glowing in the darkness of the night, and he wants to do nothing more than trace the patterns on your face

his hands slowly come up, and he brings them to cup your face, thumbs rubbing your cheeks up and down as he counts the stars on your skin

you let him, hands coming up to hold onto his wrists, but you don’t move from his grip, letting him do as he liked

his eyes wander your face, drinking in every detail, and his gaze flickers to your lips for just a brief moment before he lets out a quiet whisper that you’re beautiful

your cheeks heat up underneath his palms, and your gaze drops away from his, almost as if you were embarrassed, and you whisper out a quick thanks

silence envelops the two of you, only the sound of your soft breaths and Eywa surrounding the two of you as you two stand there unmoving

Tsu’tey breaks the silence first, asking you if you would let him make it up to you, to make-up that night and to give you what you deserved

your hold on his wrists tighten, but you only lean in closer to him and then let out a small yes

he brings one hand down from your face to hold onto your waist and leans his head forward until his lips brush against yours

it’s soft as he presses forward, lips soft and slow in their movements, but you sigh into the kiss and melt into his touch, hands resting on his shoulders

your kiss is somehow much better than he remembered, sweet, honeyed, all and completely you without the taste of alcohol stinging his tongue

humming into the kiss, he draws you in a little tighter, wishing he could have you all to himself, to never part from you

you let him hold onto you tighter, and Tsu’tey parts from you to just admire you, to stare at your beauty, to just see you

always such a beauty in his arms, gorgeous and beautiful, and he tells you as much, that you’re beautiful, brighter than the stars in the sky and as breathtaking as the views from the clouds

he can feel you warm underneath his touch, the way your lips slightly part, how you pupils slightly dilate at his words

one more time, he leans forward to kiss you, his hands moving to slowly untie your clothing from your body

his hands are careful, just in case you decided to pull away, but you never do, keeping your hands on his shoulders as an anchor to this reality

slowly, your top and your tewng come away from your body, and Tsu’tey parts once more from your sweet lips to drop to his knees and look at you

he kisses at your thighs, eyes focused on you through his hazy vision, and he mumbles into your skin that he could look at you forever, taste you forever

his hands grip onto your thighs as they slightly part for his head, and Tsu’tey groans in delight at the taste of you on his tongue

how he had deprived himself of you, he would never know, but you taste clean, sweeter, better than the fresh waters of eywa’eveng

Tsu’tey groans as his tongue presses into you, tasting every part of you, worshiping every part of you with his mouth

he how wrong was he about you, no one so evil could ever taste like this, no one who would harm others would sound so sweet as you moan and whine into the air

your thighs tremble and twitch underneath his palms, and he thinks that he could die like this, on his knees before you, your softness surrounding his

gripping on tighter to your knees, he presses his face forward to taste you better, to bury his tongue further into your heat, to bring you to your high

you moan into the air, hands digging into his braids, and Tsu’tey only groans at the pressure, fucking his tongue and moaning into your heat

your hips buck against his, clit grinding against the flat of his nose, and you whine out his name, hips rutting against his face as you come

Tsu’tey could be like this for forever, your sweetness on his tongue, your thighs trembling underneath his grip and around his head, your moans filling his ears like the holiest music he could ever hear

grunting into your heat, he ignores the own ache in his pants and brings you through your orgasm, lapping at your pussy and collecting every drop of you

as you come down, he moves his face away and kisses at the inside of your plush thighs, staring up at you until you look down at him

he tells you that you’re so good for him, too good to him, and he rises up to his feet to kiss you once more, your moans filling his body with a pleasure he would never be able to recreate by himself

this time, you part from him first, pressing your forehead against his, hands gripping onto his shoulders, and your hands tug at his tewng cautiously

Tsu’tey hums and says that he wants to do this properly, to not just make this so simple, to have you in every way and not next to the pali

you laugh slightly, saying that he had just tasted you right next to them, and Tsu’tey just lets out a huff of amusement in response, saying that if he wanted to mate with you, that he wanted to feel all of you and this place was…not the most romantic of sights

if he could have his way, he would take you right now, to feel all of you right now, to have all of you right now, but this was not the right place

there’s a soft sigh from you, and then you mumble out an agreement, saying that the two of you near the pali pastures would not be a good story to tell to Neytiri

Tsu’tey looks up at you in amusement, and you roll your eyes and say that he wouldn’t understand before telling him to look away as you redressed

he laughs at that, saying that he had already seen all of you, traced your skin with his lips and his tongue, and you glares at him with those strange brows and hiss at him to look away

turning around, he sighs and crosses his arms, but a small smile plays on his face

you were strange, but you were his strange love, and he wouldn’t change it

[mya-valentine]

Headcanon: Bakugou, Kirishima, Midoriya, and Kaminari with a S/O that Has a Motorcycle

Katsuki Bakugou

Bakugou loves anything that gets his heart pumping, and when he sees you pull up on a motorcycle, he's immediately impressed. The roar of the engine? The sleek design? Yeah, that’s his kind of thing. He’s all about speed and danger, and now that you’ve got a motorcycle, he’s more than eager to hop on for a ride.

Bakugou doesn’t ask for rides—he demands them. He’s always in control, so it takes him a bit to get used to sitting behind you. But eventually, he comes to enjoy the thrill of you weaving through traffic or speeding down an open road. Of course, he’ll never admit that he trusts you enough to handle it.

It’s only a matter of time before Bakugou starts pushing to get his own motorcycle so he can race you. You can bet he’ll be cocky about it, bragging that there’s no way you can beat him in a head-to-head race. It turns into a competition for who’s the better rider, with lots of teasing and banter along the way.

Despite his tough-guy attitude, Bakugou can’t help but worry about your safety. He’ll nag you about wearing your helmet, making sure your bike’s in good condition, and even insists on checking the brakes himself. He won’t say it outright, but it’s clear that he wants you to stay safe while you’re out riding.

Eijiro Kirishima

Kirishima’s eyes light up when he sees you on your motorcycle for the first time. “That’s so manly!” he exclaims, completely in awe. He’s always thought you were cool, but this just takes it to a whole new level in his eyes. He loves how fearless you are, and it makes him admire you even more.

Kirishima is all for jumping on the back of your bike. At first, he’s a bit nervous, but the second you take off, he’s whooping with excitement. “This is awesome!” he shouts over the sound of the engine. He’s all about that thrill and loves holding on tight to you, feeling the wind rush past him.

Kirishima knows a little about mechanics, so he offers to help with maintenance. Whether it’s oiling the chain or checking the tires, he’s eager to pitch in. It’s another way for him to bond with you, and he wants to make sure everything’s safe so you can keep riding together.

Riding a motorcycle takes confidence, and Kirishima is always your biggest cheerleader. “You’re so brave for doing this,” he’ll say, genuinely proud of how cool and bold you are. He’s always hyping you up and never gets tired of watching you in action, whether it’s riding around or handling a tricky situation with the bike.

Izuku Midoriya

Midoriya is both fascinated and worried when he finds out you have a motorcycle. His first thought is about safety—he’s read tons of statistics on accidents and can’t help but fuss over you. But he’s also amazed by your confidence and skill, and he respects you for doing something so bold.

After finding out about your bike, Midoriya goes into full research mode. He starts learning all about motorcycles, from how they work to the best safety gear. He’ll send you little messages like, “Did you know this helmet is rated the safest?” or “I found some tips for riding in bad weather!”

Midoriya isn’t sure about riding with you at first. He’s nervous about the speed and the lack of protection compared to a car. But once you convince him to try, he realizes how exhilarating it is. He’ll cling to you at first, but after a while, he loosens up and starts to enjoy the ride, even if his heart’s still pounding.

Even though he trusts you, Midoriya can’t help but worry every time you head out on your bike. He’ll ask you to text him when you arrive safely and remind you to stay hydrated and be cautious. His concern is sweet, and it shows just how much he cares about you and your well-being.

Denki Kaminari

When Kaminari sees your motorcycle, he’s instantly excited. “Oh man, this is so cool!” he’ll gush, practically bouncing on his feet. He’s already imagining all the fun things the two of you could do with the bike—road trips, racing, and just showing off to your friends.

Kaminari is not shy about asking for rides. “C’mon, take me for a spin!” he’ll beg, hopping onto the back of your bike without hesitation. He loves the thrill of speeding down the road with you and is constantly asking when you can go out for another ride.

He loves bragging to his friends about your motorcycle. “Yeah, my S/O rides a bike. It’s super cool,” he’ll casually drop into conversation, like it’s no big deal. Kaminari thinks it makes both of you look awesome, and he takes any chance he can get to show you off.

Kaminari’s a bit of a goof, so he might try doing silly things while riding—like taking selfies or sticking his arms out to pretend he’s flying. You have to remind him to hang on properly so he doesn’t accidentally fall off, but he just laughs it off, trusting you completely to keep him safe.

.

.

.

Masterlist

[nastyenemyeater]

Rockstar Choso 🫣👹🎸🥁- FANFIC

I saw some tiktoks about Choso being a drummer and it gave me some ideas.

Here are the links :

SHOUT OUT TO NARUTOSS.RAMEN

either way here's the plot : basically Y/n got cheated on by her bf at a club and she got revenge by kissing the drummer of 'The curses' rockstar band .

“Look Y/n isn’t that Nathan?” asked your best friend, pointing at a guy during a hardcore kissing session with a random girl.

The blasting music, the heat in the club and the moving people passing by and occasionally shoving you to pave their way, were not helping you in any way digest the scene you just witnessed.

Your knees felt weak, your heartbeat increased considerably, memories flashed by, tears started overflowing and millions of questions exploded inside your head “why? Am I dreaming? Why did he cheat so easily? Did he even love me?”

“Go confront him Y/n! What are you waiting for? The fuck??” shouted your best friend, shaking you fervently and bringing you back to the hell.

You couldn’t. Or you thought it didn’t matter anymore.

“That motherfucker” you seethed in anger.

Alcohol was all you could think about. Yes, you needed to drink a shit ton of it. After all, you came to the club to enjoy your Saturday night. You didn’t plan on having your heart broken but … life never goes how you want it right?

You made your way to the bar, jaw clenched, eyes burning with anger and determined to drown the night’s misery in alcohol. The bartender handed you the strongest shot of vodka, and you backed at least five of them. Each one went down smoother than the last, but the pain refused to fade.

"Maybe I should just make out with the first guy that comes along," you thought bitterly, resting your head on your arms as you looked to your left.

Unexpectedly, a pair of dark, hazy eyes were already locked on you. He sat back against the bar, elbows resting casually behind him. His dark, messy hair clung to his sweaty forehead, framing his sharp features – a defined jawline, high cheekbones, and tired, yet piercing eyes that studied you intently. Tattoos snaked up his neck and down his muscular arms, accentuated by the sleeveless black shirt that clung to his broad frame. His legs were spread wide, exuding a quiet confidence and control.

Without thinking, you locked eyes with him, staring intently with no thoughts, just an empty, heated gaze. A faint smirk played on his lips as he stared back, silent but sharp, as if he was waiting for you to make the next move.

“Whatch’you lookin’ at?” he asked with an amused tone, breaking the silence between you two.

You didn’t have the strength to engage in any conversation yet, and all you could do was stare at him. Being in that inebriating state made easy for you to prolongate the eye contact.

He let out a low chuckle, stood from his seat and made his way toward you.

But before he could take another step, 2 other guys suddenly pulled him away, dragging him toward the other side of the bar. A chaotic stream of girls followed, screaming some names as they swarmed after them.

You watched as he winked at you before disappearing into the crowd. Despite the commotion, you remained rooted to your spot, an amused smile playing on your lips as you took in the scene.

“Wow, they must be somebody for them to get followed liked this” you wondered. You groaned loudly as you realized your mistake “Fuckkk ! I just blew my chance … fuck fuck fuck … Uh give me another one please” you said, asking for another shot to forget about this massive fail.

By now, the alcohol coursing through your veins made you feel more at ease, braver, and a little reckless. Confidence surged with every beat of the rock music that pounded through the club, filling your body with raw energy. The tension that had been building up inside you needed an outlet, and before you knew it, you found yourself weaving through the crowd toward the dance floor.

You moved with purpose, shaking off the accumulated stress with each step. The crowd was electric, and soon you managed to slip right to the front of the stage, where you spotted the two guys who had dragged your "new friend" away earlier. They were performing, and you finally recognized them as The Curses, a rockstar band.

You also spotted your "new friend" as their drummer. His name was Choso apparently.

The music reverberated through your body, each beat syncing with the rising tension inside, a strange mix of hurt, anger, and alcohol pushing you to the edge. By the time they finished their set, the adrenaline was pumping so hard it was like a shot of fire to your system.

Without thinking, you somehow climbed up on the stage. The crowd’s roar faded into the background as you grabbed the microphone, your voice raw with emotion as you shouted, “FUCK YOU NATHAN!”

The audience gasped, some laughing, some unsure what was happening, but you didn’t care. Your mind raced as you continued, “GO FUCK YOURSELF NATHAN! YOU DON’T DESERVE SHIT IN YOUR LIFE”

The two guys from the band rushed over, trying to calm you down, but most importantly trying to yank the mic out of your hands. One of them put a hand on your shoulder, but you jerked your arm away and continued, “YOU HEAR ME, NATHAN? YOU MANWHORE”

Someone grabbed your arm, pulling you slightly back as a voice whispered, "C’mon, miss, don’t embarrass yourself. Get down from the—"

But you cut them off, shouting, “DON’T TOUCH ME! I HAVE THE RIGHT TO SPEAK!” Your voice rang out, fierce and defiant. Then, you turned and realized it wasn’t a stranger—it was Choso. His intense, steady gaze met yours, silently pleading for you to calm down. For a moment, everything else faded, and it was just the two of you, his eyes trying to pull you back from the edge.

The noise and chaos seemed to fade into the background. Staring into his captivating eyes, you thought, It’s now or never. Your gaze flicked from his eyes to his plump lips, and without hesitation, you acted.

You dragged him down toward you, while rising up onto your tiptoes, and then you kissed him fervently, all the pent-up emotion pouring into that moment.

His pink-haired friend cackled into the mic, “You hear that, Nathan? You fucked up! Your girl’s gone now!”

“yeah you son a bitch! look at me eating up this guy’s mouth!” you thought, deepening the kiss.

You would be a total liar if you said that making out with Choso was just any other chore to get back at your ex.

No, no, no, no… that man was a beast. The second your lips touched his, he yanked your body against his, your breasts colliding with his large, hard chest.

Every inch of him was solid, muscle-packed beneath his shirt like he was carved from stone. His body radiated heat, and the faint sheen of sweat from his earlier performance mixed with the scent of his cologne—a powerful, intoxicating blend that made you want him even more. The mix was engulfing, dizzying, wrapping around you like a drug, making it impossible to pull away.

What started as a kiss turned into something deeper, more intense. His mouth was commanding, his lips moving over yours with a hunger that sent a shiver down your spine. His tongue was battling against yours, and all you could do was respond.

He was devouring the fuck out of you.

His hands slid down to your waist, his grip tightening as if he couldn’t bear to let you go. The feel of his body against yours – strong, immovable – made you crave more. Your fingers roamed up his shoulders, desperate to feel more of him, to get closer.

This wasn’t just some kiss to get back at Nathan. Choso’s kiss was raw, overwhelming, and consuming – everything you didn’t know you needed.

“Ok ok lovebirds! time’s up! you both can finish this later” suggested his sexy black-haired friend.

The crowd's reaction to your passionate kiss was a mix of emotions. Some voices rose in anger, hurling insults, while others cheered loudly, celebrating your bold move. The air buzzed with a clash of discontent and admiration. Some of them even started chanting “fuck you Nathan” in chorus.

But eventually, all good things must come to an end … and you had to shed yourself from Choso’s addictive body. You were both panting and staring at each other’s soul trying to figure out what just happened and what was going to happen afterwards.

“So ... do you make a habit of kissing random guys on stage?” he asked with a smirk, his eyes lingering on your face, taking in every detail.

“I … I have to go …” you stuttered, pushing him slowly away.

“Oh nah you can’t go now. There is no way I’ll let you leave after what you just did to me” he said, pulling you closer.

“I acted impulsively … I’m sorry … I need to go” you said, still trying to get out of his grip.

“Oh, so you’re just going to run back to Nathan?” he spat bitterly, holding you even harder.

You immediately frowned upon hearing his name again.

“Fuck you” you gritted, putting all your almighty force to push yourself away from him.

“That’s perfect, I have a 20-minute break anyway” he said, grinning. Before you could respond, his strong arms encircled your waist. In one swift, fluid motion, you were lifted off the ground. Panic surged as you were hoisted over his shoulder. It wasn’t a gentle lift; it was firm and unyielding.

“Guys, if you don’t mind, I have something to take care of” he informed his friends.

“Man, do whatch’ya gotta do, we lost you the minute she got on stage” said the black-haired guy.

You kicked and hit desperately, your fists pounding against his back. “Put me down!” you screamed, struggling against the grip holding you. “Let me go!”

“I don’t know about you, but I like to kiss a little before fucking. That being said, if you like it rough I can do that for you baby” he said, spanking you.

“The fuck??? did you just spank me?? how dare you??” you screamed at him, outraged.

“oh so we were literally dry-humping each other on stage 5 minutes ago but I can’t spank you now? That’s bullshit! You’re mine now!” he said, pushing an exit door.

When he finally set you down, the cold night air jolted you back to reality.

“Listen, I’m sorry, I didn’t think this through, ok? I just saw my boyfriend kissing a chick and I saw you as an opportunity to get revenge … I’m sorry please, just let me go” you pleaded.

He leaned in, slammed both of his hands on the wall, caging you with his body “So you’re telling me you didn’t enjoy our kissing session?” he asked faking a pout, but clearly amused.

“I didn’t say that” you shyly admitted, looking away.

“Then why are you running away?” he whispered in your ear, his lips now dangerously close to your neck.

“Please understand my situation here, I still have to deal with my feelings” you said, trying to get your neurons to work.

“I know for sure I can get him out of your head and give you new feelings to think about” he whispered against your neck.

“Look, I’m not trying to fuck … I told you I acted impulsively, I’m sorry” you asserted. Your mouth said no but your body craved this man with every alive and dead cell.

“Hey, as much as I love sex, I’m not going to fuck with you if you’re not willing. What I’d really like to do, though, is to get to know you better. So, what’s your name” he asked, his tilted curious face looking at you.

“I … uh … Y/n” you sighed. You knew there was no point in faking a name. You would have forgotten about it anyway.

“Y/n ... I can see myself moaning your name”

“Shut up. Choso.” you said, trying to hide your fluster.

“I definitely can see you moaning my name” he added, with a smirk.

You could see yourself doing that too. Just thinking about it, sent tingling signals to your pussy.

“Can I get another kiss before going back to stage?” he asked with a demanding look on his face. He looked so adorable, with his pleading eyes and his slightly parted lips. He held your chin up with his hand, forcing you to look up to him.

That bastard … He wasn’t playing fairly …

“if you keep looking at me like that I might have to bring you home, and keep you all for myself” he whispered again in your neck.

You couldn’t speak. You were unable to focus on not acting impulsively again and trying to formulate long sentences. Your brain was in a total meltdown.

“Just so you know, I still plan to get my revenge and kiss you first, and when I do, you’re not getting out alive” he added, gently kissing your neck.

Silence.

“Please ... say something, you’re driving me crazy” he whispered, desperation lingering on his voice.

His hands slid on your back, pulling you closer to him.

“Fuck … baby … please … don’t give me the silence treatment …” he whined, holding you harder.

“Ok …just one peck” you sighed, finally making a decision. You had surrendered to this man’s desires.  

You got on your tippy toes and gave him a 4-second peck on his soft lips. But no light brush of lips or polite peck was enough for Choso. As soon as your lips touched again, he kissed you back with everything he had, hungry for so much more.

“Hey! C’mon man, we need you back on stage. Sex time’s over” interrupted pink-haired guy busting the exit door open.

“Fuck off man” Choso growled between kisses, as you both slowly came to a stop.

“I want to see you again baby. Gimme somethin’ more than your name” he asked, visibly frustrated.

“How about you look for me here next Saturday at your concert?” you suggested, smirking unknowingly, your hands roaming on his broad chest.

“And when I catch you,” he said with a grin, “you'll see the things I’m going to do to you.” he finished, with a hard squeeze of your ass.

i hope you liked this story ❤️ don't hesitate to comment and reblog !

[milkweedman]

Coincidentally my usable warp is like exactly as long as my dining room. Point is tho, i am finally done thank fuck

[autumnywinter]

Runaway - Yandere!Vox

TW: Abusive behavior, hypnosis, suggestive, dubious consent implied

Reader is gender neutral

It was a miracle you managed to escape Vox. Not literally. Miracles aren't a thing in Hell, especially not for you. It was a fluke, a mistake on Vox's part, a happy accident that you took full advantage of. It was luck that he happened to have business in another ring on that specific day. You were able to slip out without him noticing, or any of the Vees for that matter.

Not that they really cared to begin with, only to avoid Vox's rage. They both acknowledged you, but as nothing but Vox's pet. That's what you felt like, so they weren't entirely wrong.

And now you were trying your best to avoid him, making your way through the Ring of Pride. You weren't sure where to go, just far away from Vox as possible.

It had been three days since your escape, and you hadn't heard anything about it on the news. But that was more because you were scared to stand next to any TV screen that wasn't bolted down and already turned off.

So you kept your head down, hood up, and tried to think of a plan.

You weren't sure how Vox would react when he finally found you. Well, angry, obviously. Furious even. Would he hypnotize you again? Probably. Not before ripping you a new one. He had never laid a hand on you, but that didn't mean he wouldn't now.

His constant surveillance would make it borderline impossible for something like this to happen again. You couldn't afford to fuck it up.

You felt like an animal on the run. A rat in a maze. Everything you did was to avoid him. It was too exhausting. And dangerous. You couldn't get enough rest to make up for it.

There were so many ways this could go wrong. And so many ways it could go worse. You were ready for anything, willing to do anything to stay away from him. You felt like you were at the end of your rope, but you didn't have any rope left, and you were starting to fall off the ledge.

You had no one. There was no one you could turn to for help, not here. Even if anyone took pity on you, no one would be willing to piss off an Overlord.

But you knew you couldn't keep this up forever. There was no way for you to leave the ring, and Vox had cameras everywhere. Honestly, you're surprised you even still had freedom. Not that it felt like it.

Maybe he wasn't looking for you at all. Maybe he was just waiting for you to come crawling back to him. Or maybe he was watching you right now, waiting for you to slip up so he could swoop in and reclaim you.

One thing you knew Vox would avoid at all costs was to ruin his reputation. He cared far too much about that. So he probably wouldn't want to advertise that his little pet had escaped from his leash. You imagined that was the only reason you were free, or else there'd be a bounty on your head right now.

As you trudged through the streets of Pride, you turned a corner and saw who you recognized as Vox's bodyguards. Though he had tons of them, you knew most of them. Whenever he was gone for business purposes, there'd always be at least two keeping a close eye on you.

Your heart pounded and you felt a wave of dread. But they hadn't seen you yet, and the sidewalk was crowded enough that you could quickly hide in the bustle. You tried to look as inconspicuous as possible while keeping your eyes on them. They seemed to be looking around, checking the crowd for something. Looking for you, you thought.

The crowd dissipated, but a little too soon. There were several more bodyguards on the other side of the street, and they quickly spotted you. Your breath hitched in your throat.

One of them raised a walkie-talkie to their mouth, and you broke out into a run.

You ran as fast as you could, zigzagging through the crowds and almost running into other demons. You turned corners and weaved through alleys, and you could hear the bodyguards not far behind.

Your hood blew off in your frantic running, but you didn't bother to pull it back up. You could barely breathe, the panic and terror taking over.

After what felt like forever, you managed to lose them. You were almost too exhausted to stand, leaning against a wall as you struggled to catch your breath. Your chest rose and fell heavily as you gasped for air. Your legs were shaking violently.

There was a familiar sound of static behind you. Your heart stopped.

You spun around, only to come face to face with Vox. He wore an angry scowl, eyes narrowed darkly. You tried to step back, but you bumped into the wall behind you. He stood right in front of you, towering over you. He was absolutely terrifying like this, and you had no way to escape.

He reached out and grabbed your arm roughly, and you flinched and tried to yank away, but his grip was like iron. You looked around desperately for help, but there was no one around. Of course there wasn't. You had run so far from the busy streets, and it was far too late for anyone to be wandering around. If not for that, Vox probably wouldn't have shown up himself.

He dragged you back towards the limo waiting around the corner, ignoring your pleading and resistance. You clawed at his hand and dug your heels into the ground, but it was futile.

"Let go! Please!" you cried, trying to dig your heels into the ground, but Vox just kept pulling you along. You kicked and screamed, but it didn't matter. There was no one here to hear you, no one to save you.

Vox opened the limo door and tossed you inside, slamming it shut behind him. You scrambled backwards into the door. You were cornered, trapped between Vox and the door. Vox climbed into the limo and the driver started moving. You pressed yourself further against the door.

"Do you have any idea how worried I've been?" he said, his voice a low growl. You shuddered. "I'm your husband. Don't I deserve a little respect?"

'Husband'. That word made you sick. He always claimed that's what he was. You couldn't remember the ceremony, but the papers were real. There wasn't a doubt in your mind he used hypnosis for most of your relationship. You couldn't remember a single memory where you actually were in love with him, especially how much he claimed you were to be.

You felt a lot of things when you were with him, but it certainly wasn't love. You were scared. Angry. Disgusted. Violated. But you were never in love.

"I believe we've talked about how this'd go if you ever tried it, didn't I?" he continued. He pulled out his phone and showed you a video. It was of you, running through the streets of Pride, looking even more exhausted and miserable than you felt, even under the hood. "I know every street cam in Hell, don't forget that."

"Then why didn't you come for me sooner?" you rasped. Your throat felt raw from running, and your lungs burned. Your arm throbbed from where he grabbed you, and you knew there'd be a bruise later.

"I wanted to see if you'd come crawling back to me on your own," he said, leaning forward to look down on you. He was sitting right next to you, his leg pressed against yours. "And you didn't."

You shrunk back slightly. His gaze was harsh and intimidating. The lights of his eyes flickered across his screen and danced on your skin. You felt his gaze bore into you, like he was trying to figure out what was going on in your mind.

You tried to pull your knees up to your chest, but Vox reached out and grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him. He brushed his thumb along your lower lip.

"I think you need another lesson on how things work," he growled.

"I don't want--"

"Did I ask what you wanted?"

He pinned you against the limo door and leaned in closer, his face only inches from yours. You could feel his breath on your cheek.

"Don't act like you didn't miss this, baby," he purred, his tone changing like a switch had been flipped. "Why'd you leave me? Have I not been spending enough time with you? Am I not making you feel loved enough? I'm the only thing that can protect you down here, but I can't do that if you keep running away."

You squirmed under his grasp. He was holding you so tight that it was hard to breathe. It hurt.

His eye swirled, the familiar hypnotic glow enveloping your vision, and the world around you began to melt away. It was like your consciousness was sinking into a swamp. You were still aware of what was happening, but you couldn't control your own body or voice. Even your emotions beneath his control were dulled down, and it felt like a fog had rolled in over your mind.

You went limp and slumped forward against Vox as he cradled you. His hands traveled down your body and slid up under your shirt, brushing against your stomach. Your skin tingled wherever he touched it.

Just as you heard a dark chuckle from him, just as his hands trailed down to the waistband of your pants...

"We're here," the driver said, interrupting the moment. Vox's hands lingered on your hips for a second longer before pulling away. He moved out of the limo first, then helped you out. You followed him inside without hesitation.

He led you inside the tower, an arm wrapped around your waist. As soon as you stepped inside, he kicked the door closed behind him and picked you up bridal style, carrying you into the bedroom.

You wouldn't be coming out of your hypnotized state any time soon.

[mooreaux]

Silly questions ahoy. Sorry not sorry.

Who fell first, Deirdre or Gale?

Who fell harder?

Were there any things outside of the main romance plot beats that they had to overcome?

Do they have a Big Waterdhavian Wedding?

Well here is a real time pic of them realizing simultaneously that they were already neck deep in a romance without having clocked it up until that very moment

So much more rambling under the cut!

Deirdre and Gale started off as respectful colleagues. He had his little ‘o wow a warlock huh’ and she had her little ‘yeah what of it wizard boy?’ Both incredibly polite about it of course. They gravitated to one another immediately because they are both well read and spoken and kinda looked at the rest of their companions like

So in actuality they buddied up and then got teased relentlessly for being like an old married couple when neither one of them was even in the realm of romantic attraction. Gale because…. Bomb In Chest. And Deirdre having an internal incredibly well hidden behind bardic shenanigans PTSD nightmare from the horrors she witnessed during her imprisonment in Menzoberranzan.

It was only when they started sharing their magic; the weave scene, and the pic above with Dede sharing some fey vibes, that they started to shift from platonic to romantic. I would say Gale fell a little harder and faster because he just seems like that kind of person to me? Like he knows all the reasons he shouldn’t and that kinda unconsciously eggs him on even more. I’d say the crisis with Mystra’s order thru Elminster pushed them both into taking the step of actually admitting feelings tho. Dede couldn’t stand the thought of losing him. Especially to himself.

As for the last two questions… yeah. Gale’s big grand gestures got them into a bit of hot water during and post game. His constant need to prove himself worried Deirdre a lot about his self worth beyond what he could do for her. She had to go through a lot of talks with him to let him know he was enough. Just him. As he was. No magic or pageantry even tho she loves that about him too.

And of course, Dede has a TON of intimacy issues. A lot was done to her without her consent thru her life. Tadpole being the most recent offense. So she doesn’t really like surprises and has a hard time letting people in. Which is funny considering how bright and bombastic her personality is. She uses it mainly to cover the hurt. Not to say she isn’t well adjusted. She spent many many years with her patron working thru the stuff the lolthsworn drow did to her. Tadpole just kinda inflamed the wound again.

So yeah! I think it was actually several years before he even proposed. And several more after that until they got married. But the wedding was HUGE. Her family is gigantic and they have a wide social circle with the folk of Waterdeep, and Baldur’s Gate, and the Druid Grove which they still frequently visited. Gale went above and beyond constructing a castle out of flowers just for the occasion (dedes Patron helped).

Thank u so much for the ask Harding! I love my gnome gal (and i luv urs too)

[cer-rata]

Fic WIP: “No One Majored In Chemistry"

“...So yes, I’m going to figure out which one of you it was.” Billy growled into his phone as he dodged and weaved through the crowd of other excited freshmen.

Bruce sighed on the other end. “Are you really saying it’s impossible that you could have gotten into a good school without one of us meddling?”

“Gee, I dunno, acceptance and a full-ride scholarship to an ivy league school I didn’t apply to, with no active requirements to keep it up? Because of my AV experience? Room and board included? UPenn has a 6.5% acceptance rate, and again, I didn’t even apply, Bruce!”

A pause. “...It was Diana. Drop out, and she might actually cry.” Then he hung up, because of course he did. Billy groaned.

Fine. It was fine. Maybe superhero nepotism had gotten him into college, maybe that meant some other, more worthy kid didn’t get a shot. He had to balance that guilt with gratitude: Because someone clearly believed in him, and that meant a lot. Ugh, he couldn’t even yell at Diana about it, you can’t just yell at Diana! Why couldn’t it have been Ollie? Half of his job was giving people someone to yell at!

He was so frustrated that he pushed the door to his dorm open way harder than he intended, and it slammed against the wall, startling the boy who had apparently gotten there first. He spun on his heels away from the window where he’d been setting up some figurines and pointed a pair of accusatory finger-guns at Billy. He looked like a Scandinavian dude, with all of the trappings: Tall, broad shoulders, long shiny blond hair, blue eyes as sharp as Tim’s but somehow much less eerie to look at, probably because he wasn’t being possessed by the ghost of a Victorian street urchin.

“Oh! Oh, hey.” He pushed some hair out of his face and flashed Billy a bright smile.

“I recommend this one, Batson.” 

Billy paused. He didn’t recognize that voice, who was--Oh no. Oh no, Achilles never said anything unless he was asked a direct question, and even then--OH NO.

The guy cleared his throat. “Um…You’re Billy, right?”

Crap, I missed a dialogue cue! “Uh, yeah, yeah, sorry, weird…weird morning.” Billy quickly propped his suitcase against his bed and walked over to offer the guy a handshake, which was smoothly accepted. Billy wasn’t a little guy, 5”7 was perfectly average, but this guy--wait, what was his name?

“Yeah, totally, it’s been a weird morning. It’s nice to meet you, though! I’m Garth.”

Ah, okay. “Garth” had at least five inches on him, and that, combined with the length of the fingers and width of the palm that consumed his hand served to make average old Billy feel kind of small.

“Me…me too. Um. I mean, it’s nice to also meet you, not that I’m Garth. I don’t know you well enough to decide if I want to steal your identity yet.”

Garth let out a surprised giggle and raised an eyebrow. “...Well, I hope to prove that my credit score is worthy of being ravished.”

His smile made Billy’s eyes sting a little bit, but on a level he wondered if that was a product of every one of the degenerates in his mind (and maybe Solomon) trying to get a look at once.

“Aha, I guess we’ll see!”

Garth shook his head a little and smirked. Then his eyes flicked over to Billy’s bed. “Wait, is that your only bag?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah. I…don’t like having a ton of clothes.” It was kind of true.

Garth nodded. “Hmm. Fair enough. I’m a little bit of a…well…” He gestured to the pile of clothes on his bed. “...I like shirts.”

"Nothing wrong with that, you seem to be good at…wearing shirts.” What?

“What?”

“I dunno man, I haven’t had any coffee, the prompt was: 'Friendly compliment that is also not weird.'”

Garth laughed again and patted him on the shoulder, and it was at that moment that Billy realized that they’d just been standing in handshake range the entire time. He backed up in the direction of his bed a bit, and Garth took that as a cue to go back to unpacking while he talked. 

“I’m from Gotham, my standard for weird is a little warped.”

Billy sat on the edge of his bed and quietly lamented that his feet didn’t reach all the way to the floor. “Gotham is a wild place, yeah. Probably cursed.” Literally cursed, actually.

“Yeah, yeah there’s…yeah. But imma be real, I think Fawcett is much scarier.”

How does he know I’m from Fawcett?

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, that place is a Buzzfeed unsolved video waiting to happen, I mean there’s a reason the Big Red Goober hangs out there so often, right? Magic is spooky, man.”

Billy bit his cheek. “Ah, well, you may have a point, there have been a couple weird things over the years.”

Garth let the silence ride for a beat as he put some sweaters in his closet. “Hey so, big fan of your podcast, by the way.”

Billy chuckled nervously. “How…how do you know about that?”

“How many Billy Batsons can there be?”

“Honestly? A WEIRD number.”

Garth snorted and stretched slightly to get to the top shelf. Achilles noted that his shoulder-to-chest ratio was good for archery (and other things), and Billy tried his best to ignore him. “Either way, I figured you’d be a little more braggy about getting to interview superheroes, that’s kind of good for like, street cred and shit. But I guess being a bit of a shy little guy makes sense, all things considered.”

Billy was about to defend himself against the “little guy” accusations, but Garth turned around and made eye contact again, which derailed him long enough that he lost the window, and Garth continued on. 

“So, what’re you majoring in?”

“Mixed media, with a minor in journalism.” For some reason, Billy felt a little self-conscious whenever he told someone, like it was somehow unrealistic, when in reality it had been made abundantly clear to him that the concept of ‘unrealistic’ did not apply to a life like his.

Garth seemed to think it was cool, even. “Oh that’s great! Makes sense, you seem like the type to be good at all of that stuff.”

Billy fought to keep a blush down. “Ah, gee. Um, wh-what about you?”

“Pre-med and Screenwriting. Dual major.” 

Billy blinked a couple times. “Wow that--”

“Yeah, yeah I know. I kinda…I kinda applied to both departments and didn’t expect to get into either, so when I got into both I kind of panicked and accepted. So. You know. It’s…I’ll be fine, I’m used to juggling plates.” He brushed some hair out of his face and tucked it behind an ear, and for the first time in the fifteen minutes that Billy had known him, Garth looked a little nervous. Only for a moment though, then it was all smiles again. “Hey, that reminds me actually…”

Billy’s eyes widened as he watched the blond cross their room to sit right next to him on his bed. “Uh, wh--”

“How are we going to do this?”

“Do…what?”

“Oh, I do like it when they’re forward.” Zeus, please!

Garth leaned back on his hands.“I have two stressful majors, my mom has been in AA since before I was born, so no drinking, and I like people. Do you see where I’m going with this?”

“Well, theater, medicine, Gotham, parental stress: You’re one rejection letter from turning into a Phantom of the Opera themed, organ-harvesting villain of the week?” Why did I say that!?

He could hear the smug satisfaction in Hermes' voice. “Just a little inspiration, for free. You’re welcome.” AHHHHHHH--

Garth laughed really hard at that one, and any cool vibe he was trying to foster was shattered by the way his cheeks went pink and he snorted. Billy could suddenly see the dork behind the symmetrical features and shiny hair.

“Fuck you! This just means you’re gonna be my first victim, Batson. That kidney?” Billy giggled and leaned away as Garth jabbed a finger right over where his kidney actually was. “Is mine.”

“This is good,” Achilles said, “Generally this is where I’d suggest pulling your shirt up, and enticing him with your wares, but that may be unwise as you’ve neglected your mortal body’s physical integrity, you disappointing, noodly-armed twink--”

“Hey!”

Garth raised an eyebrow and Billy realized with horror that he’d let that one escape.

“Uh--”

“Sorry, just…remembered…a thing--where were you going with that before you claimed my kidney?”

“Oh! Yeah right. So I’m gonna like…be busy, you know? ‘Everybody stares at me, boys, girls, I can't help it, baby--’”

“You did NOT just quote Rent--”

“It’s a good musical! What I’m asking is if you want to like, set up a schedule, or is there a codeword, or do I put a sock on the door, or…you know.” He wiggled his eyebrows and Billy wanted to die. For some reason. 

“Oh, uh. I mean yeah I guess you can just text me? But it’s not gonna be--”

“Yeah don’t worry, I’m a considerate guy, I won’t screw you.”

“Wow, Batson, look at that, you’ve already taken yourself off of the table.”

“That’s not what he meant! Wait, shoot--”

“Who are you arguing with?” Garth asked casually.

Billy slowly turned to look back at him. “...Eheh, whaaaat? Sorry, just, my internal monologue sometimes--”

“It was Zeus, right? I know about the Ganymede thing, I figure I’m within his taste range.”

“He’s not wrong.”

A chill shot through Billy and he frowned. “...How do you--”

“Dami' wanted me to be prepared in the event of, and I quote, ‘Billy fucking up badly enough that you end up with a demon trying to crawl up your ass.’ End quote.”

Billy stared at him. 

“...When you say ‘Dami'--’”

“The stabbiest Christmas elf, yeah.”

Billy groaned. 

[thenyoumightaswellwrestleangels]

I'll find you always (but I'd rather go alone)

comfort came against my will - series masterlist coming soon

pairing: dick grayson x reader (gender neutral)

length: 1.1k

genre: fluff, comfort

warnings: established relationship, reader finding out dick is nightwing, reader is almost mugged but nothing actually happens, dick has big feelings and doesn't know how to handle them

a/n: I have a ton more written for this couple but let's just start here

It's while you're walking home late one night that it all comes out. You sigh as you weave through a back alley, knowing that Dick would be furious if he knew that, not only were you walking home alone after dark, but you're taking shortcuts through more dangerous parts of the city. But you're tired and you'd had a long day and you couldn't stand the thought of dealing with a creepy cabbie, so you decided to walk, slipping through side streets as all your thoughts swirled around wanting to be home.

But of course, it's not that simple. Of course, you're cornered by three guys who are incredibly interested in the contents of your bag. And… of course, you grew up the way you did, in Gotham of all places. You're not scared, you're just tired and fed up and want to go home.

You don't even have a chance to move, though, before Nightwing is dropping from a nearby roof and dispatching the men in front of you. You cross your arms and huff while you lean against the brick wall. You tilt your chin up as Nightwing stalks towards you and somewhere in the back of your brain, where your sensible self-preservation instincts are buried, an alarm bell rings. Nightwing is all power and presence and danger as he stands tall before you, close enough that you can see the way his muscles strain against his suit.  

You level your gaze with his, waiting for him to make the first move as he stares back at you - you've had your fair share of run-ins with vigilantes and you know that not all of them are as friendly as Batman and his crew. So you wait, holding yourself steady until Nightwing makes the first move.

"Are you hurt?" is all he asks. You arch a brow, his voice pinging some sort of recognition in your brain as you try to place where you've heard it before.

"Pretty sure you showed up before anything had a chance to happen, hm?" you quip back and notice the way his fists ball. Okay, you think. Not in the mood for banter.

"You should be more careful," he responds, and there's a levelness to his rage that reminds you of something but you just can't place it and -

"I'm as careful as I need to be," you snap back. "There are a lot of people in this city who need a guardian angel more than I do - you should go find one of them." So much for not provoking him.

He doesn't do anything, though. He's wound up, that much is clear; he's tense and angry and frustrated and you're not completely sure why or… why you know all of that about him. 

"I found you," is what he finally offers, softness seeping into his voice in a way that makes your stomach flip.

"Hm?" you respond, worried that if you speak, you'll break through the blanket of softness that enveloped you both.

"I found you. Always - I'll always find you. I'll always be here," it's the gentleness that does it, that clicks the last piece of the puzzle into place and forces a huff of breath out of your lungs.

"Is that so?" you murmur back. His hand unclenches and looks as if it's reaching for you for a moment before it falls back to his side and he steps back.

"Of course," he clears his throat. "I always will."

"And why's that?" you press, finally knowing what you're pressing for.

"I'm going to make sure you get home safely. Come on… other people are waiting for their guardian angel," he says, stiff as a board as he closes up. You cock your head to the side.

"Go on then," you prompt. "I can get myself home."

"And I'll make sure of it. Come on."

"No," you shrug. "I'd rather go alone."

"I'm trying to keep you safe." There it is, that dangerous, angry edge seeping back into his voice. You recognize it so clearly this time around.

"And I said no," you push. "I don't need protecting, and you can't save someone that doesn't want to be saved."

"Sometimes when people refuse it is when they need it the most," he growls back, fists balling again. You scoff and cross your arms, slouching against the alley wall.

"Dick saviour complex Grayson, huh. You never let it go, do you?"

Time sort of just… stands still after that. Dick stands before you frozen and your heart melts a little, knowing how rare it is for him to be caught like this and how he must be reeling right now.

"Come on," you say gently as you push yourself off the wall and start walking down the alley. "You were gonna walk me home, right?" He doesn't respond, but you hear his footsteps ever so slightly following behind you, and wonder if he's doing it intentionally so that he doesn't spook you, or if you've done enough spooking and he's still in shock. You glance behind you, but his mask keeps so much from you. You sigh, then, halting as you wait for him to catch up.

"Hey…" you say gently when he stands in front of you, anxious in a way you've never seen him before. "You ok?"

"How long have you known?" he asks quietly.

"About… three minutes I think," you respond lightly. His eyes snap to your and he huffs out a laugh.

"Oh…" he says. "Oh, that's not so bad." you laugh and take his hand, pulling him further out of the alley.

"No, it's really not, is it? Your teasing is gentle. "Now come on, Nightwing, you promised to make sure I get home safe. We can talk about this later, okay? But - you should know… it's okay. It's all okay." He stops walking, then, pulling your arm gently so that you swing around and face him.

"Really?" he prods gently.

"Really," you assure. "I mean… if I had a problem with vigilantes I wouldn't be here, right? And I did, uh… have some suspicions that you hadn't quite retired after Robin"

"Yea," Dick laughs. "I guess that was bound to happen. But, you're right, we can talk later. Come on, now - I promised to get you home safe." you smile up at him, letting him keep your hand firmly in his as you walk side by side.

"Oh," he continues. "And don't think for a second this means I've forgotten about you being out here alone late at night. We're gonna be talking about that, too." You groan and he laughs, pulling you into him to press a kiss to your forehead.

[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.

[yan-lorkai]

Hiiiiiiiiii😍 ...so happy to see your request open😍😍 please write for yandere jamil and yandere riddle sharing the same darling (female reader) .(please make it fluffy if possible)...thank you ❤❤❤❤

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Warnings: Yandere content, poly relationship, female reader, implied isolation, murders, punishments.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ In theory, it is a relationship capable of being long-lasting and functional. Riddle and Jamil are able to maintain a relationship based on mutual respect and the desire to keep you protected from other people. But before that happens they have things to discuss and deal with it, Jamil doesn't like how restrictive Riddle is and Riddle feels insecure that you'll like Jamil more for all the things he knows how to do.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Although when they resolve these issues, they are quick to work to make you fall in love with them and propose a three-way relationship, Jamil and Riddle will always make sure you feel comfortable with them, whether this is your first time having a poly relationship or not.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Riddle has no knowledge on what is expected in a romantic relationship but he did read quite a ton of romances. He is a little nervous but he doesn't show it, maintaining a gentleman persona around you, opening doors and accompanying you wherever you need to go, lending his ear to your problems and coaxing you to spend time with him and Jamil. He's not that touchy, both because he is not used to it and because he is too mindful of your boundaries and won't do something you don't explicitly want, he has more of a acts of service as his love language, but he occasionally likes to hold your hand or put one of his arms around your shoulders. He do more romantic things as your relationship progress and you're both comfortable with it.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Jamil, on the other hand, is more relaxed with his affection to you, he knows you truly loves them both equally and he adjust himself to what you're more comfortable with. Though I do see him as someone who has more of a acts or service and quality time person, he absolutely love to spend his free time with you because you breath new air onto his stagnant life, you are a sight for sore eyes. And he is left giddy everytime you come to watch him play, scoring multiple times just to hear you cheering for him.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Jamil sometimes helps Riddle articulate his thoughts, though he does find funny how much Riddle fumble awkwardly around you.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Having a sister, Jamil knows quite well what get a girl's heart swelling happily and he does all sorts of things for you. He even let you using as a model for you, braiding his hair and painting his nails. Jamil likes gifting you things, though he rather likes making them himself. Turns the gift into something more personal since he was the one who created it. He can makes jewelry for you, can knit, sew and weave you clothes.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ And while Jamil makes you those things, Riddle remain more suave, writing little poems or passing you little cute notes to remember you to drink water and take care of yourself. If Jamil provides for more on the material side of things, Riddle works more on your emotional, always checking on you.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ They fall in sync very quickly and understand each other very well because of their love for you, almost being able to communicate through their looks. Sometimes they send each other photos and videos of you or exchange names about people that are being a bit too flirty and touchy with you, people who ended up missing and a bloody mess, oops. You're like the light in the end of the tunnel for them, the only good thing in their life and they spoil rotten. Attention, affection, everything you could ask for. They only ask is that you don't let your light be tainted by those other peoples.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ While on NRC, you guys normally have study dates or baking dates, chitchat on Riddle's unbirthday parties, or just do something you really want to. You also have regularly sleepovers on your dorm.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Things got complicated on vacation because Jamil and Riddle lives in different countries, plus Jamil has to deal with a lot being Kalim's servant. You three have to think of a way to deal with it everytime.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ They don't punish you, they can't. Riddle can collar you, sure, but that won't stop you, if anything you'd be angry. So Jamil is usually the one to make you stop acting a certain way using his unique magic on you while cradles your face lovingly in his hands as he stared into your eyes. Your eyes slowly rolling back and your mind foggy, but it's ok, they've got you. Just stay pretty and love them as much as they love you.

[fantasyescapes17]

Closed Doors (Part 1)

Soonyoung had made peace with his station in life. A younger son of a little-known family, he was not set to inherit a fortune and had nothing to recommend him but his bright personality. Nobody expected Soonyoung to make the match of the season. But when you- a woman with ties to the royal family and riches beyond his imagination, a Duchess in your own right- seeks Soonyoung's hand in marriage, his life begins to spiral entirely out of his control.

Genre: Hoshi x female!reader. Regency!AU. Your title is the Duchess of Graham but your first name is not mentioned.

Warnings: Not even remotely historically accurate. Much like Bridgerton, this is all about the aesthetic.

Word Count: 4k+

Part 2 Part 3

Series Masterlist [This is not the first installment in this series- it is strongly recommended to visit the Masterlist and read the installments in order as they are all interlinked and the timeline can be confusing.]

“So, the Navy, eh?” 

Soonyoung winced as his elder brother clapped him hard on the back. The evening had barely begun but the elder Kwon had already imbibed too much whisky; a rather embarrassing state to be in, considering that they were at one of the most elite balls of the London season. The hostess-the Duchess of Graham- was arguably the richest and most influential lady of the ton and not someone to be trifled with. 

"The Navy, yes," Soonyoung replied weakly. "I enlist in two weeks."

"I didn't take you for a navy man. But excellent. Excellent, Soonyoung. You will make our family proud!"

The elder Kwon stumbled away, drunk and almost knocking over a pair of young ladies that shot him dirty looks. Soonyoung winced again- this time from embarrassment, and not pain. It was a cruel twist of fate that this bumbling buffoon had inherited the entire Kwon family fortune while Soonyoung was left penniless, merely because he had been born a year later. 

Younger sons were truly at the mercy of their brothers. 

"Soonyoung!" 

Soonyoung turned, relieved to see a close friend and another man who shared in his plight as a younger son. Mr. Lee Seokmin was nearby with a glass of water in his hand. 

"Mr. Lee!" Soonyoung greeted his friend warmly. "I see you are starting off the evening early. Do not tell me you have already secured a young lady's hand for the first dance?"

Seokmin grinned brightly. "I have secured a dance indeed; with Miss Yoon, the season's jewel."

Soonyoung was impressed. "Well! Don't let me stop you! You should hurry- young ladies do not like to be kept waiting, and being brother-in-law to the Viscount will only get you so far if your manners do not match his."

"Of course. I heard of your plans to enlist in the Navy," Seokmin added, his tone a little more serious. He lowered his voice. "We will speak about it after the first dance."

Soonyoung forced a smile and agreed. 

Joining the Navy was not something that Kwon Soonyoung had ever truly wanted to do with his life. But ever since he had been old enough to understand that there was no grand estate or family fortune waiting for him when he became of age, he knew that he could not depend on his brother for hand-outs. 

He had very few respectable options open to him- Soonyoung could have taken up a profession, but a few short years at Oxford made it clear that the study of law or medicine ill suited him. His talents did not lie in poring over books for hours on end. He had quickly transferred to the Royal Naval Academy and begun his training to brave the high seas in service to the country. 

Joining the Navy was less a conscious choice, and more a natural consequence of Soonyoung's talents and position in life. He had long since learned to make peace with it. Perhaps he would capture an infamous pirate and be knighted by the Queen. 

One could dream. 

Soonyoung weaved through the groups of fashionable nobility as he admired the magnificence of the Graham's London manor. It was exquisite. Every wall was covered in antique artwork and every marble column seemed to have been crafted painstakingly. This was perhaps the most magnificent building in all of London, second only to the royal palace itself. Soonyoung felt as though he was unworthy to even tread the white marble floors. 

He was also suddenly struck with the fear that his drunken brother would break something priceless. 

Soonyoung managed to reach the lavish spread of refreshments, and was selecting from the endless rows of colourful little cakes when a hand landed on his arm- much gentler than his brother's had been. He turned around and came face to face with Viscount Hong. 

Handsome, gentlemanly and very rich, Soonyoung was often surprised that Viscount Hong even bothered to fraternise with him. Had they not shared some mutual friends back during their brief overlapping time at Oxford, it would surely have been absurd for the Viscount to even know Soonyoung's name.

But as circumstances had it, the Viscount was well known to Soonyoung. If he was being daring, he might have even called him a friend. 

"Soonyoung! A word?" the Viscount asked. 

Soonyoung nodded eagerly. "Of course! I have not seen you in a while, Viscount; congratulations on your wedding, I never got a chance to properly-"

"Yes, thank you," the Viscount replied kindly but in a tone that made it clear he was not looking to exchange pleasantries. "Soonyoung, I hope that in the time we have known each other we have developed a sort of mutual trust?"

Soonyoung blinked. "Yes?"

"I am going to ask you to do something that may seem rather odd, but I need you to trust me and know that I will explain in due course. Can you do that?" the Viscount asked.

Soonyoung did not hesitate. 

"Of course. Anything."

"Excellent. I need you to ask the Duchess to dance with you for the first dance."

The request was so outrageous that it took a few moments for the full meaning of the words to sink in for Soonyoung. He stared blankly up at the Viscount for a few seconds before sputtering out his protests. 

"The Duchess?" he repeated. "I-I do not even… I have never met her!" 

"That is perfectly fine- I will make the necessary introductions," the Viscount replied smoothly as he began to walk away. Soonyoung was forced to abandon his carefully chosen pink and yellow cakes and follow the Viscount. 

"Viscount Hong…"

"Hurry- the dancing will begin in only a few moments!"

Soonyoung had no choice but to follow the Viscount as he led him to the front of the room. Soonyoung knew of you, of course, there was nobody in the ton who had not heard of the elusive Duchess of Graham. But he had never even seen you in person and the idea of daring to ask a Duchess to dance…

"She will say no," Soonyoung realised quickly. 

The Viscount shook his head. "She will not."

"How do you know-"

"Soonyoung. Take a deep breath. I would never knowingly put you in an embarrassing position," the Viscount promised. 

Soonyoung relaxed a little. 

"All right, I trust you…"

The two gentlemen arrived at the head of the ballroom and Soonyoung's eyes finally landed on the Duchess that he had heard so much about. His breath caught in his throat. 

You were beautiful- in an almost regal, ethereal sort of way. Your exquisite lavender-coloured ball-gown shimmered in the bright lights and little diamond studs twinkled in your ears. But your beauty came  from more than the clothes and jewellery you wore. Your beauty was in the way you carried yourself- in your graceful posture, in the way your soft lips curved in a practised smile and your gloves hands rested delicately in front of you while you nodded at the gentleman speaking to you. 

"Soonyoung?" the Viscount asked, when he stopped walking. "Why have you stopped?"

"I-I can't…"

"Come, quickly."

Soonyoung felt as though he was in a dream. The Viscount seized his arm and pulled him along until the two gentlemen were standing immediately in front of you. 

When you turned your gaze upon him, Soonyoung almost felt as though he should kneel before you, in deference to your superior presence.

"Viscount Hong!" you greeted him with a bright but restrained enthusiasm. Even your voice was melodic and gentle to Soonyoung's ears, like a songbird in spring. "I am very glad to see that you could make it this evening. Is the Viscountess not with you?"

Viscount Hong smiled back. "The Viscountess is just speaking to her brothers, Your Grace. She will greet you momentarily. In the meantime, I wanted to make an introduction."

"Oh?"

Your eyes landed on Soonyoung calmly, and he felt as though every part of his body had turned to ice. Your gaze was not condescending or even unkind, but there was something in your eyes that instantly shattered Soonyoung's vision of you as perfection incarnate. 

Your lips smiled, but your eyes were sad. 

"Your Grace, allow me to introduce you to Mr. Kwon Soonyoung. He is the second son of the Kwon family and a close personal friend of mine," the Viscount said. 

Soonyoung would ordinarily have swelled with pride at being called the Viscount's close personal friend but he did not have the time for such luxuries. Remembering his manners, he clumsily reached for the gloved hand you offered him and brought it to his lips. The soft satin smelled faintly of lilacs. 

"Your Grace," Soonyoung said nervously. "It-it is an honour…"

You smiled at him gently. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Kwon."

Soonyoung looked up for a brief moment and caught the Viscount's eye; the older man was giving him a meaningful look with his big eyes. 'Ask her to dance' was clearly what the Viscount was trying to silently communicate. 

Abandoning all instincts of self-preservation and placing his faith entirely on the word of Viscount Hong, Soonyoung looked at you with a forced smile. 

"Your Grace- may I ask you to accompany me for the first dance?"

—-----------------------------------------------------

Perhaps it was for the best that Soonyoung had little-to-no warning that he was about to open the first and most-awaited event of the season by dancing with the Duchess of Graham, as it left him very little time to consider the serious societal implications of the situation he was in. 

Soonyoung was no stranger to dancing. He loved it and would never refuse an opportunity to dance provided he could find a partner. It was, therefore, a relief when the opening waltz was one that was very familiar to him. His feet moved smoothly and naturally to the tune of the music and it allowed his mind the freedom to think of what to say to you. 

"I hope you are having a pleasant evening," you said to him politely. Soonyoung was trying in vain to ignore the soft scent of lilacs coming from you (were there fresh flowers entwined in your hair? He was too flustered to look closely) and it took him a few moments to realise that he should compliment you, the hostess, on your ball. 

"Yes!" Soonyoung said quickly. "Yes, the evening is wonderful, this far exceeds the usual events of the London season."

"In what way?" you wondered aloud. 

"In what-sorry, in what way?" he repeated. 

"In what way does it exceed the usual events?" you repeated patiently. 

Soonyoung was stumped. There were real lilacs entwined in the strands of your hair and it was growing far more difficult to keep his thoughts in line. What should he say? The size of the ballroom? The orchestra? The lighting?

"You have a much wider selection of cakes," he said finally. The words had barely come out of his mouth before he instantly realised how stupid they sounded- but to his surprise, you were biting back a small smile. For a moment, he saw that strange lingering sadness disappear from your eyes. 

"The cakes?" you repeated, amused. 

It was too late. He could not extricate himself from this conversation now. Soonyoung had no choice but to double down on his admiration of the cakes. 

"Yes," he continued. "It is quite standard for London balls to offer one or two choices of cake, but I had a chance to pass by the refreshment tables earlier and there were eight different cake selections available."

"I see," you replied. "I suppose that you like cake a great deal, Mr. Kwon?"

Soonyoung blinked. "Don't you?"

"I do like cake, but I will confess that it never occurred to me to use it as a measurement to assess the quality of a ball. I hope you will be kind enough to let me know which of the cakes you liked best? I am sure my kitchen staff would be pleased to learn that their spread had an impact on my guests."

You were not making fun of him. The Duchess of Graham was quite seriously discussing cakes with him at the season's opening ball. 

Soonyoung felt light-headed. 

"I thought the strawberry ones were quite refreshing," he choked out finally. "Strawberries are in season, of course, and the freshness of the flavouring ingredient makes a world of difference."

"Interesting," you said thoughtfully. "Yes; I suppose it is natural for one's cake preference to vary based on the freshness of the seasonal fruit. We grow strawberries back on the country estate this time of year and have them brought over to London so they are quite fresh. I think the weather is right for lemons as well. I am partial to a lemon cake."

"The lemon cakes are delightful," Soonyoung agreed eagerly. "I had a chance to try one earlier. But if I may offer a suggestion- I think a lemon cream might be a lighter and more refreshing option."

"Considering the warm weather?" you asked, interested. "I agree completely. Lemon cakes can be quite dense in the heat. We should have some lighter options as well. I will pass on your recommendation to my cook."

"I hope you will make it clear that the recommendation was not intended as a slight against the cake, which was quite excellent," Soonyoung said hastily.

You smiled. "Of course. I will convey the message."

"Thank you."

The waltz slowly drew to an end and Soonyoung was forced to release you, stepping away from you until he could no longer smell the lilacs in your hair. 

"Thank you for the dance, Mr. Kwon," you told him in your gentle, song-like voice. "I hope you enjoy the rest of your evening."

"T-thank you, Your Grace."

You left and Soonyoung quickly stepped away from the dance floor towards the edge of the room. He was so intoxicated by the memory of your voice and smile and scent that he almost bumped head-first into Seokmin, who was waiting for him with a large smile. 

"Did you just dance with the Duchess?" Seokmin demanded, in awe. "How did that come to happen?"

Soonyoung could only shrug. "I… I don't know."

"Unbelievable. What did you talk about? Her title? Did you offer your condolences for her father's death? Is it true that she is planning to marry soon and that the dukedom will pass through the female line?"

Soonyoung blinked. "What?"

"You didn't ask her about any of those things? What did you talk about?"

"Just…" Soonyoung cleared his throat, embarrassed to admit the actual subject of conversation. "We only made light conversation. About the weather and the like. Anyway, was there something you wished to discuss? About the Navy?"

Seokmin's smile fell. "Oh- yes, the Navy. When are you enlisting?"

"In two weeks."

"I am considering joining you," Seokmin admitted. His expression was somewhat glum. "I know things have been looking up for my family since my sister married the Viscount, but I can hardly live off my brother-in-law for the rest of my life."

Soonyoung blinked. "The Viscount would support you in a heartbeat. So would Jihoon."

"Yes- which only makes it all the more embarrassing to depend on their generosity," Seokmin replied with a sigh. He looked up at his friend and offered him his hand. "Shall we go explore the high seas together, Soonyoung?"

Soonyoung shook his hand with a smile. 

"Let's capture some pirates."

"Aye, aye!"

—------------------------------------------------

Soonyoung had not forgotten to seek an explanation from the Viscount for his strange behaviour at the Duchess' ball, but the opportunity did not come immediately. 

Viscount Hong's younger sister- Miss Hong- had been caught in a scandal the very evening of the ball and the Viscount was away making arrangements for her hushed wedding to Mr. Jeon Wonwoo. Soonyoung could hardly knock on the Viscount's door in those circumstances and demand to know why he had asked him to dance with the Duchess of Graham. 

"You must tell us what the Duchess is like," Mr. Kim Mingyu pressed Soonyoung over a game of cards at the gentlemen's club. The handsome rake had a cigar sticking out of the corner of his mouth as he scanned his cards. "I've heard so many things about her."

"What have you heard?" Soonyoung asked curiously. 

"The usual story of how she acquired her title, of course. The late Duke had no surviving male heirs. The dukedom would have died with him, but the Grahams have always been very intimate with the royal family. On his deathbed he sought a special decree from the Queen herself- to allow his title to pass through his only daughter."

Soonyoung nodded. He knew this story. The entire ton knew this story- it had been one of the most discussed topics of the past year. 

"The first woman to be a Duchess by birth and not by marriage," Seokmin remarked as he set down a card. "Does that mean that whoever she marries becomes the Duke of Graham?"

Mingyu nodded. "Naturally so."

"Who would she marry? Surely a Prince? Or another Duke?" Soonyoung wondered. He still remembered that brief dance with you at the ball- you were the picture of beauty and perfection. He could not imagine you settling for anyone less. 

"All the other Dukes are curmudgeonly old men," Mingyu said dismissively. "The Duchess is young and beautiful enough not to have to settle for any of them. Considering her ties to the royal family and that she is a close personal favourite of the Queen- yes, I'd say a Prince is far more likely."

Seokmin sighed. "That would be some celebration," he said wistfully before turning to Soonyoung. "Pity we won't be around to see it, eh, Soonyoung? We will have departed for the Navy by then."

Soonyoung hummed. The day of his planned enlistment drew nearer and the dread in his heart grew greater and greater as the reality of his future sunk in. He was not certain how Seokmin could remain optimistic and casual about their upcoming enlistment.

Mingyu winced as he put out his cigar. "Are you two really doing that? The Navy? Isn't there some other way to come into a fortune- preferably one that does not involve placing yourself in mortal peril?"

Soonyoung scoffed as he played his turn at cards. "Easy for you to say, Mr. Kim, sole heir to a Kim family fortune so large that you've gambled away thousands of pounds and somehow still kept your estate intact. Remind me how much you owe Mr. Yoon again?"

Seokmin chuckled. "There is an idea. Perhaps we can play Mr. Kim for his estate."

Mingyu chuckled and leaned back in his seat. "If it prevents you both from going to the Navy, I'm game."

"The Navy is the only option that really gives men of uncertain fortune like us a chance to earn enough to compete with family money," Soonyoung explained with a sigh. He had done his research- there was no other way. "If one can climb the ranks to obtain a command and sink some enemy ships, the spoils of war are often lucrative enough to justify the effort."

Mingyu was not impressed. "If you survive long enough."

"What would you suggest instead, wise one?"

Mingyu's eyes twinkled. "Haven't you two considered simply marrying into fortune? You're both handsome young gentlemen. I am sure you could find a damsel with a large enough dowry to support you."

"So you would have us become dowry hunters," Soonyoung replied. 

"If you want to put it so crudely…"

"Your rakish behaviour is only passable among the ton because of your fortune, Mr. Kim. I am fairly certain that if Seokmin or I attempted to seduce young ladies of fortune as brazenly as you do, we would have been shot by their fathers or brothers," Soonyoung replied drily. 

Seokmin chuckled. "I'd rather die at sea."

"I will drink to that."

Soonyoung allowed his friend to refill his glass with whisky and sipped it. It occurred to him how much he would miss these casual evenings in London- playing cards and having a drink with his friends as they bickered and joked without a care in the world. 

But life could not be so easy. He had to prove himself in the world. 

The entrance to the gentlemen's club opened and a lone figure walked in. It was Viscount Hong, looking more tired than Soonyoung had ever seen him. He nodded politely at the gathered  gentlemen in greeting. 

"Viscount Hong!" Seokmin greeted him cheerfully. "Join us for a game?"

The Viscount sighed. "I'm afraid I'm not up for any gambling tonight but I will have a drink," he said. One of the waiters came rushing over to pour him a fresh glass of whisky as the Viscount took one of the empty seats at their card table. "It has been a difficult week."

Mingyu nodded. "Have Mr. and Mrs. Jeon left for the countryside?"

The Viscount lifted his glass and emptied it into his mouth before responding. "Yes- I would say that it turned out alright in the end, but I am not sure anyone benefitted from this mess, really. Except perhaps Baron Wright."

Seokmin gestured for the waiter to refill the Viscount's glass. "Say the word and we can deal with the Baron- we'll call it a hunting accident."

The Viscount seemed mildly amused. "Thank you, Seokmin, but there's really no need to murder anyone on my behalf. I doubt the Viscountess would forgive me if you ended up in the gallows on my family’s account."

Seokmin shrugged. "I'm bound for the Navy in a few weeks."

The Viscount laughed. "You must be mad if you think your sister would ever allow that."

"It is not her decision."

The Viscount shook his head lightly. "Far be it from me to interfere with my wife and her siblings. But I am fairly certain that you will not be heading to the Navy as you imagine, Seokmin. Nor, for that matter, will Soonyoung."

Soonyoung, halfway through his third whisky and beginning to feel the effects of the alcohol, looked up and blinked. "Sorry?"

The Viscount turned to face him with an apologetic smile. "I was going to explain why I pressed you to dance with the Duchess that evening, but I am afraid more urgent events distracted my attention. But first- am I correct in assuming that your enlistment in the Navy is only due to your need for a fortune and not due to an actual passion for the high seas?"

Soonyoung cleared his throat. The Viscount was very correct but it was an awkward thing to admit. "I mean, I was planning on capturing some pirates and building my own fortune."

Mingyu chuckled halfway through his attempt to light his second cigar. "Yes, Kwon Soonyoung, with his talent for the Viennese waltz and preference for lemon cream is the ideal man to defend our seas and capture pirates."

Viscount Hong ignored him. "And if there was an easier way for you to come into fortune?"

Soonyoung raised an eyebrow. "Such as?"

"By marriage."

"Don't bother, Viscount," Mingyu said lightly. "I have suggested it already, but these two gentlemen are determined not to present themselves as dowry hunters."

"What if the young lady of fortune approached you first?" 

"And where do you plan to find a young lady of fortune mad enough to do that?" Mingyu joked. 

Viscount Hong gave Mingyu a sharp look which silenced him and then set down his glass of whisky on the table. He turned in his chair to fully face Soonyoung. The look in his eyes was serious and for a moment, Soonyoung felt something akin to anxiety stir in his stomach. 

"What is it, Viscount Hong?" Soonyoung asked nervously. 

"The… Duchess of Graham has expressed an interest in marrying you, Soonyoung."

—------------------------------------------------