#culture tag: russia
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haveyouheardthisfolksong · 3 months ago
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Eki Attar (youtube.com)
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justacynicalromantic · 6 months ago
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Ukrainian painter, professor, public figure Oleksandr Murashko (1875 - 1919) with his wife Marguerite Murashko, nee Kruger:
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Oleksandr was a student of another prominent Ukrainian painter - Illia Repin.
Murashko has been called "the most important Ukrainian artist of the turn of the century". His painting "Carousel" won the gold medal at the Munich Exposition in 1909, and he exhibited in Venice, Rome, Amsterdam, Berlin, Cologne, and Düsseldorf.
From 1909 to 1912, Murashko taught at the Kyiv Art School. In 1913, he opened his own studio in the Ginsburg skyscraper, where many young Jewish artists were trained, including Mark Epstein. He had a great influence on Kazimir Malevich.
He founded the Association of Kyiv Artists in 1916 and the following year co-founded the Ukrainian State Academy of Arts.
Oleksandr Murashko was murdered by the agents of the All-Russian Extraordinary Commission secret police, more commonly known as Cheka (ЧК), in 1919, when he was taking a stroll with his wife.
Not long before his death, his hands full with organising the socially important activities, with teaching and working at the Art Rada, Murashko wrote:
"I haven't really been making any new artwork for the last two years. All of me is immersed in organizing the artistic life of Ukraine. This issue is posed so acutely and is so complicated that I cannot possibly, in any good conscience, avoid it. But I have firm hope that, having given my all to my people, I will be able to return to quiet work..."
Some of Murashko's artwork.
The famous "Carousel":
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"Burial Of A Kish Otaman":
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"Winter" and "Girl in A Red Hat":
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"Near The Cafe":
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"Rural Family":
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storywestistrash · 2 months ago
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i am actually so tired of the way westerners treat eastern europeans
#fair warning for. a very very long ramble and rant in the tags. apologies#westerner or russian. no other option#westerner because the only thought they ever have is 'but they had universal housing so if you oppose ussr you oppose that'#(which is stupid becuse you can believe in that WITHOUT WANTING LIKE 6 COUNTRIES TO BE FORCED TO BE RULED OVER BY RUSSIA)#(SORRY FOR WANTING TO LIVE IN MY COUNTRY WITH MY HISTORY AND MY CULTURE AND NOT RUSSIA!!) (poland was a sattelite state but GOD)#or russian because they have a victim complex and are convinced that they deserve to rule over the entire damn world#'well you had universal housing so you had it easy' right yeah. okay. forget about like. everything else that happened#to eastern europeans during that time#forget about the things that are STILL issues all these years later not only in poland but like the more eastern countries too#its not about. the fact that the houses 'didnt have 3 bedrooms and a jacuzzi' in them. you DUMB SACK OF SHIT#god sorry. sorry. i also know so very little but like god damn i fucking live here. i didnt sit thru all that modern history#for some dumbfuck to say that 'ohhh only rich and american middle class people are happy the ussr was dissolved'#'oooh the dissolving of the ussr was illegal and the countries within it actually liked being there'#im just so fucking tired man i need to. i need to start killing people#and this is all not to mention that theyll say this stupid shit and then deny eastern europeans the things they actually did that were good#FUCK french people for trying to claim maria skłodowska. fuck americans for trying to claim the witcher as their own fantasy world#fuck the way the west is allowed to claim and destroy eastern european culture without any consequence because we dont matter enough#vaguely related but ill throw this in here since anyone finding it is unlikely and im scared of having this opinion#i think one underappreciated aspect of DE (which might be underappreciated because its not actually there and im stupid)#is that its pro-communist while still also giving some criticism to how it was handled and acknowledging that its still not perfect#which makes the writers much better communists than any self-proclaimed one ive ever met in my life who just worships the idea#perhaps its because the writers of the game were not white upper middle-class americans living in the suburbs. among other things#idk de is a game for people far smarter than me and i only played it once and im sure anyone who played it well can clock me as a bad perso#horrible horrible person even which is why im scared of mentioning it. but its an interesting thing. to me#the main thing is that im just not. im not far left enough i suppose. i agree communism in theory is a great idea. as far as i know it#(which isnt very far)#but chances of implementing it correctly in a way that doesnt take away from peoples happiness in other areas is. low. very low#i wrote a short essay about how utopias are inherently contradictory ideas once it wasnt very deep or good but like#you cant have universal happiness without restricting certain freedoms. and when those freedoms are resticted not everyone#will be happy. and then theyre unhappy they will have to be somehow removed or ignored
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ohsalome · 1 year ago
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irithnova · 1 year ago
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I cackle when I see people parade around their singular Siberia ocs. What the fuck do they represent exactly? The Sakha? Evenk? Buryats? Evens? Soyots? Yukaghir? Oroch? Nenets? Nanais? Tuvans? Nivkh? Chukchi? Koryaks? ALL OF THESE DIFFERENT GROUPS??
It's like making a fucking Africa OC and treating Africa like it's a singular country.
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ishomieokay · 26 days ago
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Being half-Eastern European and half-Venezuelan growing up was wild.
Little me would go to a cousin's birthday party on my dad's side and we would sing The Eternal Venezuelan Birthday song. Which, for context, it's really fucking long. Like 5 minutes long, and then it's followed by the American Happy Birthday song but in Spanish, and then another Very Threatening song that just goes "I'm going to give you somethiiiiiing" and all the guests would hit the Birthday boy/girl at the same time and then we would smash their faces on the cake, lmao.
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And then we would go to the birthday party of a cousin on my mother's side and we would just scream Happy Birthday two times and call it a day.
And I just never questioned it.
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the-physicality · 3 months ago
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Sheryl Swoopes, Tina Thompson, and Cynthia Cooper discuss the fact that there is no houston team any more
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troythecatfish · 4 months ago
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radioactive-cloud · 8 months ago
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those past few days are really testing my patience with some of the takes and opinions i've seen on the internet and i'm so fucking done with all of this i just want to delete all my accounts from everywhere and live somewhere in the woods (as far away from russia as i can) and to never come in contact with another human being again
#i'm so exhausted i just have to rant even tho nobody will care#i have some trouble sleeping because i'm either waiting for another attack to happen#or reading the news about dozens of missiles flying at my country#or hiding in the bathroom while listening to explosions because it's supposed to be the safest place in our appartment#and then i open social media and see all the destruction and casualties and deaths that happened overnight#and at the same time i see people adoring and praising and defending russians and their culture and language#and creaming themselves because of their “mysterious russian soul”#and telling ukrainians that they are stupid and toxic and that what they feel about their killers and occupiers is wrong#well newsflash y'all#russian culture is nothing but blood and death#russian language is nothing but blood and death#it's not just fucking putin doing all of this shit#he wasn't there when ukrainian nation and culture and language were oppressed for literal fucking centuries#did russia invent human cloning for putin to be all those soldiers at the frontline and all those people building drones and missiles?#open your fucking eyes and think for a fucking second#i go to sleep every night fearing that i may not wake up#and then in the morning i see people admiring russians and foaming at the mouths defending them#and then also fucking michael sheen of all people sending his love to them#and i become so insanely pissed#get a fucking reality check#i'm so sick of people excusing russia and its actions#once again guess i'm a walking big bad angry ukrainian stereotype#well that's what war does to you#i won't wish for anyone to experience this but also it may be the only thing that makes some people aware of what a rotten thing russia is#i'm so done and i don't want to feel all of this and i don't want to be a human and i don't want to have thoughts#maybe it's for the best if a missile flies into my room so i won't have to be here any longer and witness all of this shit#(it's a thought i've been having lately and ngl it kinda scares me)#ukraine#russia is a terrorist state#btw i've just discovered there's a limit of 30 tags
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iamthetruenhaz · 6 months ago
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Copied my reblog to the tags because it was below the cut but I really have a problem with this.
[footage of the inside of an ordinary Eastern-European home, taken with a handheld phone camera, the man filming is walking from the living room to the back door of the house]
man, narrating in russian: Every fucking year, this time of the year, the pond at my backyard gets infested. What do ponds get infested with? Frogs? Poisonous weeds? Geese? No. Not my pond.
[The man opens the back door, stepping out into a garden. Three or four nude, human-like figures dash from the borders of a pond back into the water.]
man: Rusalki! I don't know where they come from or how they get here, and I can't afford to hire an exterminator every year. I can't let my cat outside anymore. Last year a rusalka managed to drown a whole deer in my pond, the stench was unbearable.
[He walks as he speaks, approaching the pond. There are several eerily beautiful female beings peering at him from under the surface, their long hair floating in the murky water. Their eyes are gleaming in an unhuman way. The man holding the camera stops to film them.]
man, calm and deadpan: What the fuck are all of you staring at. Get jobs or something.
[One of the rusalki, smaller than the others and clearly not a fully matured adult, slowly reaches out of the water with her white, thin hand, grasping his ankle. He appears unconcerned.]
man: You can't drown me, you little idiot. You're too small. Shoo!
[A loud thud startles the rusalki, making them scatter. A second thud makes it clear these are the approaching footsteps of something massive. The man turns around and points the camera at what appears to be a house, walking past above the treeline with chicken-like legs]
man, now yelling: IF YOUR HOUSE SHITS ON MY YARD AGAIN I SWEAR TO FUCKING GOD-
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haveyouheardthisfolksong · 1 year ago
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the last is supposed to be “I have never heard of this song” but I can’t edit the damn poll >:(
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wndaswife · 9 months ago
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saving room for dessert | wanda maximoff & fem!reader
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Dinner with the new neighbours sets you on edge due to the repeated subtle passes made at your wife. You reestablish your ownership over Wanda in the kitchen while your guests wait for dessert in the dining room.
Word count: 6864
Tags | MDNI: smut, domestic fluff, humour, jealousy, possessiveness, reader has a penis, handjobs, brief thigh fucking, daddy kink, degradation, but way more praise, what is the word for almost getting caught fucking in the room beside the dinner guests??, sub!wanda maximoff
A/N: the corny alliteration of vision and virginia's name was not my doing it is based on his comic series ndskjfnkjfn
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The town of Westview was a rather quiet one, though both you and your wife really loved the neighbourhood community, for it was friendly and close-knit. When you first moved into Westview together, it was because Wanda’s job had relocated her to somewhere further than where you had previously lived, and close to the charming town that was alike to the kind you had always talked about living in together.
Both of you were delighted to find that the people of Westview were welcoming and kind, and that there were frequently tourists that made the small town buzz with life, for Westview’s small-town charm along with its infamous preservation of its older architecture and landscape was a sight that many of those from the more bustling areas of New Jersey enjoyed visiting.
Though Westview had a tightly-knit community and a steady flow of cheerful tourists, it was rather uncommon for the small town to get new people moving in, so when one of the new neighbours ended up working alongside Wanda, the two of you were rather eager to get to know them — a long-time married couple with two children who’d graduated from college and were now living elsewhere.
After about two weeks of scheduling between the four of you, dinner that had long been spoken about was finally happening at yours and Wanda’s. 
You were looking forward to it, for Wanda spoke quite highly of the wife, who she described as an extremely kind and funny woman. You had spoken with her a few times too, but only by chance like under casual circumstances when you were bringing in groceries with Wanda and she was out gardening. 
Additionally, Virginia, the wife, lived in Russia until she was eight, and though Wanda was Sokovian, the two were able to initially enjoy discussing their Slavic similarities in culture and dialect until they became closer, chatting casually about things from their spouses to Westview. Eventually, conversation led up to Wanda inviting Virginia and her husband, Vision, over for dinner. 
You were looking forward to it, and though Wanda was looking forward to dinner with the neighbours too, she also enjoyed hosting and cooking, and so the kitchen was busy and smelling wonderfully for the last little while as you cooked together. 
Mostly, it was Wanda who took the lead with cooking, but since being married, her talents had rubbed off on you; you could now dice onions at perhaps two-thirds of the speed she could, and Wanda also always says you’re good at cleaning up after her while she cooks.
But also, you really just loved doing things like this with her, when you could just talk about anything, just the two of you, while doing things you could only dream about when the two of you were still only dating, living in a place together that you could also only dream about back then. 
You wrapped your arm around your wife’s waist once she slid the potato dauphinoise into the oven and shut it, pulling her into your body and kissing her forehead. “I love you,” you uttered into her warm skin. 
She held your chin in her hand and angled your face to hers so she was able to kiss your lips. “I love you too,” she replied, smiling sweetly at you. 
Your guests were five minutes early, perhaps to make a good impression, for they could have been exactly on time if they so preferred seeing as though they lived right next door. 
It was you who opened the door as Wanda was finishing up a few things in the kitchen, ensuring the cheesecake you had made earlier was comfortably sitting in the fridge waiting until it was time to serve dessert.
Also, she thought it’d be a good impression for you to greet them first, since you’d yet to meet either of them officially.
Cheesecake was actually your signature greatest achievement in the kitchen aside from nearly — not nearly at all, really, but you like to boast — keeping up Wanda’s onion-chopping. You’d taken the cheesecake recipe from a cookbook, and it was Wanda who adjusted most of the measurements and changed some of the ingredients, but it was you who could make it perfectly.
Well, Wanda could make it perfectly too, and probably better, but she never tried; she liked the way you made it, and gave you recipe credit though it was her who really reconstructed it to be what it tasted like now. But she always says that it was you who found the original recipe, at the end of the day.
Not that any of that would matter to your guests, and maybe it might be a story told over dinner if the topic came up, but it mattered plenty to you and Wanda; you wanted to concoct a special dinner together, preparing dishes with special meaning. Though some of said meanings were not as profound in their history as the cheesecake’s, like how Wanda lathered the dinner rolls in butter a second time halfway through because you liked when the top of the rolls weren’t completely dry by the time they were finished baking.
In any case, the intention was to host a dinner that was friendly and warm, and so the dinner spread was selected with intention.
“Hi,” you greeted with a smile, waving a bit awkwardly for no reason at all before ushering them into the foyer and closing the front door behind them. “You must be Virginia — I’ve heard lots about you from Wanda.”
The woman, slightly taller than you and with smooth, soft looking dark hair that ended at the mid-way point of her slender neck, beamed at you as she stepped into the house, her husband following behind her. She took your hand with both of hers, warm fingers caressing your hand gently. “And you must be Y/N. I’ve also heard quite a bit about you from Wanda,” she said, eyes crinkling at their edges as she smiled.
She gestured to her husband, a clean-shaved blonde man with aviators, slightly shorter than his wife but still a bit taller than you. “This is my husband, Vision,” she introduced. “I don’t believe even Wanda’s yet met his acquaintance.”
It was when Vision shifted the lidded ceramic bowl into his other hand to free one in order to shake your hand that you realised he was carrying something. You shook his hand with a friendly smile. “It’s nice to meet you, Y/N,” he said cordially and with a smile.
“Virginia!” Wanda cheerfully greeted as she walked into the foyer, hair fixed up and now without her cooking apron on. They exchanged a hug and Virginia kissed her cheek before introducing Wanda to her husband.
“Thank you for having us,” Virginia said appreciatively. “We’re both thrilled to finally get to know both of you better.”
Wanda replied, sharing a tenderness with Virginia within their met eyes, “You’re very welcome. Y/N and I have been looking forward to tonight all week.”
“Oh,” you interjected softly, realising Vision was still holding his ceramic bowl. “I’m so sorry, let me take this into the dining room for you.”
“In fact, I’ll also take the both of you into the dining room too,” Wanda added lightheartedly. “Let’s get out of the foyer. You can set your shoes down anywhere by the door, and the coat rack’s right here.”
Once wine had been poured and everyone’s plates were served the dinner you and Wanda had made together — pomegranate-brined chicken with white balsamic charred peach, potato dauphinoise, and a medley of some vegetables — you each sat at the dining room table, enjoying your dinner together.
There was conversation about how wonderfully everything tasted, and you were sure to credit Wanda with taking charge in the kitchen, allowing her to talk a little bit about how she prepared the meal and delving into details the couple asked her about, like how she had made the potato dauphinoise so creamy. 
You began to truly enjoy their company for how much they were complimenting your wife.
Until there was Vision’s, You’re a gorgeous woman who can put together an equally as gorgeous dinner spread — Y/N’s hit the jackpot.
“Dinner couldn’t have been done without Y/N,” Wanda assured and then looked at you with a proud smile mostly meant for your eyes, but you weren’t paying as much attention to her as you were scrutinising Vision’s body language after his comment.
It wasn’t… inherently malicious.
But there was something implicative in his wording that made you slightly sceptical of him.
Perhaps in an attempt to… Well, you actually weren’t entirely sure what Virginia was attempting to do when she lightly corrected, “Both Y/N and Wanda have hit the jackpot finding each other. You two seem so perfect for each other. Not to mention, if I might be so blunt, you’re a rather attractive couple.”
Wanda laughed, but in the way she regarded Virginia’s expression for just an additional moment before looking back down to her plate to respond with something humble and bashful, you knew she was also curious about the other couple’s compliments.
“I moved the wine around!” you tried, intentionally poorly, to call after Wanda when conversation came around to discussing the different wines you had, resulting in Wanda leaving to go get one the opposite couple loved. “Sorry, if you’ll excuse me, I don’t believe I’ve yet told her how I reorganised down there.”
As you headed down the hallway, you inhaled and exhaled thoroughly to untie the uneasy kink in your stomach, sure to keep your shoulders still so your tenseness wasn’t obvious to your guests who could still see your back until you headed downstairs to where the wine was kept, for their comments hadn’t stopped since the first time.
Wanda looked over her shoulder at you when you descended the stairs and she straightened from looking around at the selection. “Baby, do we still have the Pinot Grigio they were asking about?” she asked, hands on her hips as she leaned back a bit and ran her eyes over the selection on the wall in front of her.
“Are they swingers or something?” you asked as you approached, placing a hand atop Wanda’s hand on her hip as you reached around her and took the white from the wall to her left.
“Oh, you moved them,” Wanda noted, thanking you when you handed it to her. 
You stood beside her in front of the wine rack and repeated your question, looking up at the closed basement door before asking again. “Are they swingers?”
“What?” Wanda looked up from surveying the wine, looking confused. “What are swingers?” 
Clarifying, you replied, “Couples who sleep with other couples.”
“Them?” she asked incredulously and laughed. You took that as a ‘no,’ then looked over at the basement door curiously as if you could see them through it, ruminating over their comments. Then Wanda was silent and unmoving and you looked at her as she was tapping her fingers against the glass of wine, seemingly in deep thought of her own. “Well… Come to think of it…”
“Wanda!” you hissed. “You invited swingers over to our place for dinner!”
“I didn’t know!” she answered. “I just thought… Virginia talks about her sex life often and I suppose there are some times that she’s alluded to… to swinging about with other couples—”
“It sounds weird when you use that term like that — just say sleeping with,” you interrupted.
Your wife gave you a look and you cracked a tiny amused smile before she continued. “Anyway, yes, I suppose they’re swingers. I didn’t know!”
With your arms crossed, you tapped your fingers against your upper arm in thought, and Wanda supposed you were thinking of how to converse with them now that you both knew they were swingers. But instead you asked hesitantly, meeting Wanda’s eyes, “Are you… interested in that?”
Wanda scoffed. “Y/N, no. Don’t be ridiculous,” she replied. You surveyed her face for a moment longer and she fully turned her body to face you. “You really think I want to sleep with other couples?”
“No, I don’t, but we’ve never had the conversation before, so it’s possible that you’ve had it on your mind before, even in passing.”
She assured, “I do not want to sleep with anyone else but you.” It was almost funny to hear those words come out of her if you thought about it with no context, but context given, it was really a relief to you. “I’m entirely satisfied with only us, and the thought of being with anyone else disturbs me greatly. I’m not offended that you asked just to make sure, but the idea of being with another couple, or anyone but you, has never been anything that I’ve entertained. Y/N, I didn’t even know what swinging was until a moment ago.”
“Okay?” she checked in, her voice soft, letting her other hand with the wine hang by her hip while she stepped towards you and cupped your cheek with a warm hand. “I really didn’t know — and not even subconsciously, if you’re thinking that.”
“Okay,” you confirmed and smiled at her, causing Wanda to smile at you in response. She leaned forward and kissed you.
When she pulled away, she met your eyes and your chest warmed when Wanda’s smile crinkled the sides of her eyes. Her thumb rubbed against your chin adoringly. “I’m unsure how we ought to go about signalling a lack of interest in having sex with them,” she told you.
“Just a lack of reciprocation, maybe?” you suggested, and at that, you perked up at the recollection of their commentary that you now knew was flirtatious. “Wanda, if Vision calls you gorgeous one more time, I’ll fuck you over the dining table monogamously in front of them — I’m serious. It’s driving me crazy. He’s right, but to know they’re both just thinking of how much more gorgeous you’d be if we were all having sex is rather startling.”
It wasn’t that they weren’t making subtle passes at you too, but since Wanda was far more communicative and talkative, it was natural that their efforts to become closer circulated your wife far more than it did you.
Wanda laughed and pushed at your shoulder playfully, her head thrown back slightly. “You’re such a freak,” she said. She took your hand and you headed out of the basement together. “It’s okay. Now that we’ve spoken about it together, I’m sure it’ll be much less awkward since we know they’re swingers. It likely won’t be a problem until they bring it up, and then we can clarify that we’re not interested.”
The plan was more than simple, but it failed to consider how agitated you were becoming, little comments now seeming much larger now that their intentions were clarified between you and your wife. 
It was things from Virginia noting how you seemed to be the one to ���take charge’ in the marriage, to asking outright how often the two of you had sex, about children and the possibility of them, and plenty of other things that were likely of no consequence but seemed irritating to you because you were simply irritated. 
Mostly, it was Virginia’s comments that were permitted to be slightly more vulgar as it was she who asked about yours and Wanda’s sex life, for she was now more than only work friends with your wife, and she’d shared much about her own intimate tendencies with Vision before. 
The conversations about sex weren’t crude, and mostly they were merely jokes, but knowing the intentionality behind them now made them far more than that.
But it was about more than references to sex; there were comments made about how both you and Wanda were such a perfect couple, how well you worked together and how kind you were — observations upon observations about how you and Wanda were within your marriage.
It seemed they had standards, at least.
And truly, Virginia and Vision were kind people and you would thoroughly enjoy having them as neighbours as soon as it was made clear that you and Wanda weren’t interested in sleeping with them.
What irritated you wasn’t necessarily all about them and their commentary, for they knew not that you and Wanda weren’t interested, and anyways, if Virginia had been alluding to being a swinger along with her husband on several occasions, this dinner might very well be interpreted by them as interest.
So you didn’t necessarily dislike them.
It was all true that you and Wanda made a wonderful pair and that Wanda was gentle and so generous, and that she was beautiful and all the things that had been said about her tonight. 
She was very funny too when she wanted to be, and had great taste in movies and all her clothes always sat so well on her shoulders, and her hair was always so soft and the crook of her neck was always very warm, and her fingers were gentle and curious when she had them wrapped around you, and she was so delicate when she slept, and her elbows were a nice shape, though you don’t think you ever told her what you thought about her elbows — all this Virginia and Vision didn’t know, but for whatever reason, you thought so much about it all.
And for another inexplicable reason, it was rather related to how irritated you were.
“Y/N and I have been married for two and a half-ish years now,” Wanda said in response to a question you weren’t listening to, placing her hand on your thigh. You looked over at her and she smiled at you sweetly. 
You’d only said a few things in the last few minutes, little comments and visible reactions to show that you were engaged in the conversation, but nothing majorly contributory. You looked to the side in brief thought then said, “Two years and… seven months.” 
With a second more to think, you also added, “Three days.”
Wanda thought that was funny, but also sweet, and her smile widened, perking up her ears slightly as her smile grew. She squeezed your knee and pulled her hand away to take a sip of wine. “Indeed — two years, eight months, and three days.”
“If we feel so inclined to place trust in my math,” you joked modestly.
You watched as Wanda conversed further with your guests, watching the way she laughed and how she looked over at you often to see your reactions to things or to just make eye contact with you. Specifically, you liked when she looked at you while she was laughing to see if you were also laughing, to share in that joy with you.
As you watched your wife between sips of wine, there was a rupture of adrenaline that came over you. All that you’d been thinking of about Wanda wasn’t some abstract concept about some idea of Wanda — they were all about the woman you loved, the woman who loved you, the woman you were married to.
The woman who was yours, and who’d only ever be yours, as you were hers.
The thought warmed you and made you feel delighted, but your cheeks felt warm and the wine warmed your throat and chest in such a pleasant way, and suddenly, you needed Wanda then and there like you knew you had her.
“Are we all ready for dessert?” Wanda asked, looking around at the table to see everyone’s plates empty with their silverware to the side. 
When Vision confirmed for both himself and Virginia, Wanda said, “Y/N’s made a wonderful cheesecake for the occasion. She can be quite the chef.” Her praise made you feel a bit bashful and you smiled at her gratefully.
Virginia expressed excitement for dessert while you and Wanda collected the empty plates to bring to the kitchen, letting them know it’d be a few minutes.
You followed behind Wanda as she headed down the hallway and into the kitchen. Dishes were thoroughly emptied and rinsed before being placed into the sink while Wanda carefully took the cheesecake out of the fridge.
“Can you take this?” she asked, holding the cake out to you. You took it from her and placed it on the island counter at the centre of the kitchen. “I think I’ll slice some fresh fruit and arrange it nicely on top. I didn’t want to do it before it was served or it wouldn’t be fresh.”
You were listening, but not quite taking in what she was saying. You watched her closely as she took out some fruits and honey from the fridge and brought it to the counter before taking out the cutting board. She tucked loose hair behind her ears and pushed her sleeves up.
Her neck was exposed and you felt the urge to smell her perfume, feel the warmth of her skin against the tip of your nose.
You stepped forward so your pelvis was pressed against her hip, an arm wrapped around her waist as you pulled her close and ducked your head beyond the strands of her hair, burying your nose in her neck. She tipped her head to the side, allowing you room to kiss up her neck.
You felt the vibrations of her laugh against your lips.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“I need you,” you answered briefly, using your other hand to tug her sleeve down slightly and expose some of her shoulder so you could kiss there too. There was no response from her aside from a soft hum, and you knew it had been on her mind too. “Don’t tell me you haven’t been thinking about it; all their implications have made me think of you all night.”
“And that constitutes you needing me now?” she asked, turning her head to look down at your face along the slope of your nose and forehead seeing as your face was still half-buried within the crook of her neck. “I would have thought you’d be too busy brooding.”
She was trying half-heartedly to taper your desire, but the soft inflection in her voice told you she’d certainly felt the same thrum you’d been feeling too.
“I was busy with far more important things.” You wrapped your fingers around her wrist carefully and led her hand down to between your hips, and in spite of her hesitation, Wanda’s fingers wrapped delicately around you through your pants. Your hips immediately bucked into her hand.
Wanda inhaled sharply then sighed at the feeling of you. “Y/N…” Your name trembled on her lips. You watched as she swallowed, eyes flickering up at the hallway in front of you both. Her jaw tensed and she looked back down, fingers twitching as she internally fought against her most rational objections.
She bit the inside of her cheek before her hand moved, unbuttoning your pants then unzipping. She met your eyes, her hand pausing momentarily, perhaps wishing you might change your mind suddenly and stop her before she was unable to stop herself. But you said nothing, only meeting her eyes with stubborn conviction.
Your gaze made her cheeks flush a soft pink and Wanda shifted in her spot, pushing her own hips against the edge of the island counter, no doubt feeling her own desire growing. She looked down and tucked her hand past the waistband of your underwear, pulling it down along with your pants until your cock was free.
“I’ve been thinking about having your lips around my cock,” you whispered, your lips brushing against the lobe of her ear. “About the way you groan when I pull out just enough so you can taste the way you make me feel against your tongue before I fuck myself down your throat. I thought about how beautiful your pussy looks when I lay you down and spread your cunt open. I thought about you.”
Her breathing became heavy at the sight of your arousal, seeing how you twitched as you spoke about her. Her hand wrapped around you, her thumb brushing gently over your sensitive tip and eliciting a soft grunt from you.
“Fuck, Wanda,” you cursed from beyond clenched teeth. Your hips twitched forward into her hand and Wanda didn’t wait a moment before giving you the friction you wanted, her hand jerking around you and repressing a moan of her own as she felt you throb and twitch in the warm confines of her palm.
Your arm wrapped around her waist advanced upwards, pulling up some of her shirt and exposing some of her lower stomach as your hand groped at Wanda’s clothed breast.
She let out a soft moan and you watched as she squeezed her thighs together and further pressed her pelvis into the kitchen counter in desperation. Her hand gained speed, ensuring to graze around your tip each time her hand continued its rhythm around you. Her head rested on your shoulder as she watched the way she touched you, watched the way you let her touch you, her breaths shaky as she felt her own desire climb.
But how could you deny your wife mutual pleasure?
You moved the cutting board to the side and Wanda watched as you readjusted things. 
“Y/N, don’t,” she protested quietly. “We can’t.”
Ignoring her, you moved from her side, her hand releasing from around you as you placed your hands on her hips and pressed her against the counter. 
You unbuttoned her pants and watched over Wanda’s shoulder as she watched your hands, her chest rising and falling, gripping the edge of the counter. She was so warm against your body and her perfume smelled so nice. 
You pulled her pants down along with her underwear, allowing you to press your cock against her perfect ass. 
Wanda exhaled a deep, trembling sigh and she leaned forward against the counter. “Y/N,” she weakly protested again, reaching back and trying to swat your hand away. 
Impatient about wanting her to give up her hesitation, you pulled her pants down further below her ass and slotted yourself between her thighs, parting her wet cunt with your dick and brushing your tip against her clit. 
Her head fell back against your shoulder and you felt her thighs squeeze together ever so slightly, nudging you up against her clit. 
“We can’t?” you asked. 
“They’ll…” Wanda braced herself again and straightened her back, knuckles turning white as she pressed the pads of her fingers into the underside of the counter. “They’re in the other room. We’d have to…”
“Be quick?”
She nodded. 
“I can be quick,” you told her. You kissed the corner of her jaw, the hollow part behind her earlobe. “You know I can be quick.”
Your hand slid down her stomach, the heel of your hand brushing against the space between her hips before your fingers found her clit. Carefully, you brushed them against her, feeling the way she twitched her ass back against you, subtly rubbing herself against your cock that was still throbbing between her thighs. 
“Beg me to fuck you.”
Wanda looked over her shoulder at you. “What?” she asked. “I thought you wanted–”
“But you were so adamant that we couldn’t. Now, I’m not so convinced myself,” you said. “You’ll have to beg me.”
“Y/N, please,” she whispered impatiently. 
You gave a quick pinch to her clit and Wanda repressed a yelp as her body jolted against yours. “That’s not how you beg, baby.”
Wanda urged, “We don’t have time.”
“Make time.”
Impatient, you spanked Wanda’s ass lightly and took a handful of the soft flesh, eliciting a sharp inhale from your wife before she sighed out, “Oh, Y/N…”
She reached back, parting from your hips to make enough room for her hand. She wrapped her hand around your cock and stroked it slowly, bending herself over the counter and presenting herself to you obediently. 
“Please, daddy,” she begged. “I want you inside me. I want… I want you. Please. I need you.”
You watched as her desperate hand continued to pleasure you, watched as her back arched as she bent over the counter. You pushed her shirt up her back, eyes running up the delicate curve of her spine and feeling with your palm the smoothness of her soft skin. 
“Are you… Are you going to?” Wanda asked nervously, fully aware of the fact that you had every liberty to pull away and forget all about wanting to fuck her right there and then. She wasn’t exactly meeting your eyes, not that she could at the angle she was looking back over her shoulder at you, but she wasn’t exactly trying to either, for the possibility of you leaving her all desperate and unfucked was all too real.
You hummed in what sounded like consideration, but really, you were just running your eyes down the curve of Wanda’s lower back and the perfect swells of her ass, watching the way she continued to hesitantly stroke you, desperate to please and desperate to have you inside of her.
“How could I deny you, Wanda?” you finally answered, and you saw your wife flush from beyond her mess of loose strands, looking away and at the hallway ahead that led to the dining room. 
“We really have to be quick,” she reminded, letting go of you but not without brushing her thumb over your tip again. 
A hand came to her upper back and flattened her against the kitchen counter, a soft grunt leaving Wanda as was pressed down against the marble. “You really overestimate yourself if you really think it’ll take very long to get you to come,” you mocked, hands hooking under her hips and around her upper thighs, arching her back further and sticking her ass up. 
At the sight of her cunt, you groaned and parted her sticky mess with your thumb and middle finger, brushing your index finger down across her clit. You ran your thumb across her hole, dipping ever so carefully into her before removing your hand to position yourself against her opening.
“I couldn’t help but notice,” you said, “how embarrassed and shy you were every time they mentioned sex or asked about our sex life. Trust me, there were dozens of other things running through my head, but one in particular.”
Wanda gripped at the edge of the counter, taking in a breath as she felt you prod at her opening with your tip, dipping in just enough for her to feel the stretch of your cock sliding into her. “What… What was it?” she asked quietly.
“I wondered why you felt such an urge to act so embarrassed talking about sex when you know what a fucking slut you are,” you gritted out before your hands tightened around her thighs below her hips and pulled her ass back against you so your cock slid into her with a single thrust. 
You leaned forward to grunt against her shoulder, muffling your noises and letting your wife know how good she felt. “Fuck, you feel so fucking good around my dick, angel,” you groaned. “Sweet innocent girls wouldn’t be able to take cock like this, Wanda. You put up a front when you’re with them, but you know how much you love getting your pussy fucked raw by daddy. Isn’t that right?”
Wanda shut her eyes tightly, her moans and yelps being only partially-swallowed as she tried to keep them from escaping past her lips, though it become increasingly difficult as you began thrusting forward, trapping her between the kitchen counter and your hips and forcing her to withstand the entire impact of your brutal fucking.
“Th-That’s right…” she conceded.
“I know it is,” you agreed. “I know it is, because it’s fucking filthy. You’re a filthy slut, baby. You can hear it, can’t you?” You reached down to rub your fingers against your wife’s clit. “You can feel how much it turns you on that you’re all daddy’s, that daddy can fuck you whenever she wants because she owns you.”
Your forehead laid against her shoulder and Wanda reached up to cradle the back of your head with her hand, interlacing her fingers with your hair.
“That’s right. Fucking take it,” you grunted into her ear, feeling yourself growing closer each time Wanda’s walls squeezed around you, listening to her delicate high-pitched yelps every time you pinched her clit or thrusted into her so hard her ass stung with the way your skin slapped against hers. 
Her hips were beginning to become sore with the way they were pressed against the edge of the counter.
“Do any of you need help in there?” Virginia called from the dining room, audibly beginning to head down the hallway to the kitchen. 
“A-Ah, no!” Wanda called back, her attempts at repressing her moans making her response come out slightly more aggressive than she’d wished. “Please don’t! We’re almost finished. Just…” Her head hung as she quickly ran out of excuses, but she couldn’t bring herself to push you away — not when she was so, so close.
Not when you felt this good inside of her, holding her so close against you.
You felt so good with your arms around her.
You took a handful of Wanda’s ass as you shoved her further down against the counter so she was being soundlessly fucked from behind as her hair gradually became undone, her shirt riding up to expose that beautiful curve of her spine that you loved. 
“Wanda’s a bit of a perfectionist with decorating the cake,” you added, digging your nails into her malleable flesh and watching as smooth ivory tinted into a flushed red. “She wants it to be a surprise!”
“I promise we’re… we’re nearly finished!” Wanda called back, slightly breathless, before quickly burying her face into her arms and muffling herself.
Virginia gave in, saying something about having the both of you promise not to work too hard because both she and Vision would love the cake anyways. But neither of you paid much attention once you heard her walking back down to the dining room.
“You feel so good inside of me, daddy,” Wanda whimpered into her arms. “Please come inside. I want to feel you. I wanna feel how warm you are.”
Being degraded always turned Wanda on, but it was being praised that made her come; you loved how your wife was so sensitive to sweet things like that.
So you lifted her from the counter with your arm wrapped around her waist so her arms were taut with her hands gripping the edge of the counter again. From here, you were pressed against her with access to whisper into her ear.
“You’ve been so good for me, haven’t you, sweetheart?” you complimented against her cheek, pressing a kiss there and running your hand beneath the confines of her shirt. “All nervous and hesitant to let daddy make you feel good at first, but you knew better later, didn’t you? You know that I know what’s best for you, honey.”
Wanda nodded fervently. “Yes, I…”
Your hand pulled Wanda’s bra to the side and you kneaded her breast with your hand, feeling the way her nipple hardened against your palm before moving to the other and pinching her other nipple between your thumb and forefinger. “Oh, I know,” you cooed when she leaned back against you with a prolonged, quiet moan. “My princess, you’re such a good girl.”
“Why don’t you listen to what a good girl you are, hm?” you asked, moving both your hands down to grip her hips again and pulling her against you. You watched in detail as you pulled out of her, her glistening pussy wrapped around your cock, before you thrusted back in, your obedient wife taking every inch. 
Both of you listened to how her cunt sounded around your dick, her slick coating you as you throbbed inside of her, her tight walls squeezing you in just the right way, feeling the way the pressure from her walls gripped around your tip when you pulled out at just the right length.
“Fuck, baby, your pussy feels so good,” you groaned, leaning back so you could watch the way her ass looked when you rutted your hips against her. Unable to help yourself in spite of the noise you knew it might make, you delivered a spank to the side of Wanda’s ass. 
You then wrapped your arm around Wanda’s waist again, your other hand moving up to cup the side of her cheek and turn her head around so you could kiss her lips. “Come on, angel, fuck yourself on daddy’s cock. Let me see how badly you wanna come on my dick.”
Wanda obediently began moving, arching her back to allow herself leverage to fuck herself back against you, listening to how her ass slapped back against your hips.
“That’s good, baby. You’re so beautiful,” you breathed out against her neck, kissing the warm expanse as you listened to Wanda whimper and try to hold herself together until you gave her permission to come. Your hand groped her breast again. “You’re so needy for daddy’s cock, hm? You’re making such a fucking mess, Wanda.”
“Y/N…” Wanda whispered, her arm reaching back to grab at the edge of your shirt. “Please let me come. Please.” You kept your chest pressed against her upper back, allowing her to meet your eyes when she turned her head to plead.
“Come all over daddy’s cock, baby, come on,” you permitted. “I love to see you all desperate for me. Let me see you come, Wanda.”
Wanda ground her ass back against your hips, burying your cock deep within her pussy as she came around you, walls gripping at your twitching cock. You felt her pulsate around you as she grasped desperately behind her, searching for your hand. 
You interlaced your fingers with hers and kissed her lips as you came to your own hilt, emptying yourself inside of her and letting her feel your warm cum fill her up to the brim until you could feel yourself dripping out from the sides of her cunt.
Weakly, you continued thrusting into her, fucking your cum deep inside of her as Wanda whimpered, sensitive and still pulsing around you as she felt your sticky warmth shoot up inside of her. 
“Oh… I love when you come inside of me, Y/N,” she breathed out, satisfied and tired as she let go of your hand and used both to balance herself against the counter as she slumped forward.
You grinned at her and kissed the back of her neck as you pulled her underwear up first, giving her sensitive cunt a quick swipe through her panties, telling her to keep your cum in for as long as she could. Then you did her pants back up and did the same for yourself.
The rest of the cheesecake decorating went relatively fast after Wanda quickly cleaned herself up in her kitchen window reflection. 
Actually, neither of you had ever decorated a cheesecake so fast considering you decided to go a bit overboard with some whipped cream to make up for how long you both took — it would’ve made far more sense to come out with a more intricately decorated cake. It was a decently-sized cake, just enough for four people to enjoy, so it didn’t take as long as it would’ve if it were sized regularly.
“Oh, we were so worried you might’ve needed help with the dessert,” Virginia said the moment the both of you stepped into the dining room, Wanda with the cake in hand and you with the plates and silverware.
“We’re so sorry,” Wanda apologised. “One of us set the cake lopsided in the fridge and it came out a bit kooky, so we had to reshape it and all. And then the organising of the fruit and—” She waved her hand dismissively as she set the cake down. “Well, it’s all finished now.”
You set the plates down for everyone along with their respective knives and forks. “We hope you didn’t have to wait too long,” you told them apologetically.
Aside from how your initial impression as a couple spiked Virginia and Vision’s interest in wanting to sleep with both you and Wanda, the meal thus far must’ve paid off, for they really didn’t seem irritated at all after waiting for dessert. 
And they did end up enjoying the cake too.
Except for Wanda, however, who seemed to be rather distracted with something else. You watched as she kept readjusting herself in her seat, her thighs squeezing together every so often and taking sips of her wine just to fidget with the handle of the glass.
You were rather eager to fuck your wife in the bedroom too after dinner, but before that, to see how much of your cum had leaked out of her.
By the looks of it, she had failed to hold much of it in.
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pamgkrthwrites · 6 months ago
Text
Captive Consort Chapter 1 - Blood of War and Rings
Warning, the following content is for an 18+ audience. If you are under the age of 18 do not read the content below. Warning, the following content has disturbing/triggering themes such as; Yandere, Arrange(Political) Marriage, Religious/Cultural Differences, Imperial Harems, Self Harm for Religious Practices. I do not support or encourage these themes or actions, they are merely written fictional events for entertainment. The character(s) depicted within this post are over the age of 19. (This list may get updated with each new Chapter Update)
DNI IF YOU ARE AN AGELESS, MINOR OR BLANK BLOG
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Taglist: @yazminetrahan @emmab3mma @dreamcastgirl99 @optimisticprime3
Fandom: BNHA
Pairing: Bakugou x Female Reader
Additional Pairings: Iida x Ochako, Kirishima x Mina, Mitsuki x Masaru, Mitsuki x Inko
Themes: Fantasy AU, Arrange Marriage, Political Marriage, Cultural/Religious Differences, Yandere, Greek Inspired Reader, Imperialism
Summary: Your country has been at war with the Barbarians for almost a year, and the Barbarian Prince, Katsuki Bakugou, has requested a peace treaty. Problem is, he is demanding either a large sum of money that your country can not provide, or you as his bride. You're from a culture inspired from Ancient Greece, while Bakugou is from a culture inspired by Imperial Japan, Imperial Russia, and Vikings, so there are are going to be a more than a few issues that arise from this and how people treat you differently.
A/N: I literally have an assignment due to tomorrow but no I spent MY ENTIRE WEEK writing this. I might be mentally unwell......... ANYWAY Hello hello. This is probably the LONGEST thing I have ever written for one chapter. Be prepared for Melissa Slander.
Word count: 10k+
"Father, you can’t seriously be considering marrying me off to that barbarian prince?!” You stood before your father in disbelief.
He couldn’t actually be considering this proposal, right?
Your father sat at his desk, the treaty paper in his hands. “He says he’ll stop the war if our nation gives him money that we do not have, or marry off one of The Nine Shachou Member’s daughters of marrying age. Unfortunately, you’re the only one who is of marrying age and has yet to be married.”
“But father-!”
Your father slammed his hand on the table as he stood up before shouting at you. “You will do as I say, child! We cannot afford to continue this war with the barbarians! Let alone with the rest of their savage continent! At least this way, we have a way of controlling them!”
You bit your lower lip, trying not to cry. You should’ve known this wouldn’t have worked.
You are merely an object to be traded for these monsters.
“You’ll be shipped over on one of our boats. I’ve been told it’ll take thirty days for you to reach their continent if everything goes smoothly.” Your father said as he sat back down. “You’re just going to have to deal with this, child.”
You gripped the side of your dress. “When do I leave?”
“We will be sending our response to those barbarians at first light tomorrow. It is already written up.”
That wasn’t an answer to your question. “Am I taking anyone with me?”
“That depends on the prince’s response. He may not allow you to go with any maids or guards.”
You were silent as you looked down at the floor. 
“I recommend you pray to the gods while you still can, child.” Your father told you. “Also bring miniature statues of them as well. That continent of savages worship different gods to us. I will pray to Soteria to protect you.”
You clutched the beads around your neck, each of them symbolising one of your many gods.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
After a week had passed, you were instead shipped by carriage with your father to meet with the prince and his men at their camp.
Your mouth smeared up when you noticed the wet mud before your feet.
“Fourth Shachou,” You heard a gruff voice with a thick accent say. “We hope your journey was safe.”
You turned to see a green haired man with freckles on his cheeks. He stood at one hundred and eighty-three centimetres tall and had green eyes. He didn’t wear typical clothing you saw of the barbarians, but you could still see it was from their continent, but with the skin that was showing you saw a large amount of scars. All differing in lengths and widths.
Your father gruffed as he left the carriage and walked over to the young man. “I see you know our tongue.”
The green-haired man kept a smile on his face. “We speak the same language, Fourth Shachou.”
You got down from the carriage, holding the skirt of your dress up to avoid it being dirtied from the mud. The green-haired boy looked towards you and scanned your face. 
“This is my daughter.” Your father put his hand on your back as he said your name, pushing you forward.
“I am Midoriya Izuku.” The green-haired man introduced himself. “I am childhood friends of the Barbarian Dragon Tribe Prince, Bakugou Katsuki.”
“Dragon Tribe?” Your father repeated. “I thought there was only one group of those barbarians.”
“Be careful of your tone, Fourth Shachou.” Midoriya warned before answering your father’s question. “Back in times of old, there were many Barbarian tribes. With the rise of the Demon Lord a hundred years ago, the tribes were either wiped out or forced to merge together to be stronger in numbers. The Dragon Tribe is a result of Humans Barbarians and Dragon Shifters Barbarians merging into one Tribe. They are currently considered to be the largest Barbarian Tribe throughout all of known history of Nihon. They continue to use the name of The Barbarian Dragon Tribe to remember their fallen brothers and sisters.”
Yourself and your father watched as Midoriya went on a ramble of Barbarian history. Once Midoriya was done, he looked at you two and noticed how you had both reacted to him. He blushed lightly.
“Sorry- Didn’t mean to ramble.” He quickly pushed out of his mouth. 
“And what is your relationship with the Tribe, boy?” Your father asked. “To our understanding, they don’t let outsiders into their tribes easily.”
Midoriya seemed taken aback by your father’s statement. “They don’t typically like those from outside of Nihon to join the tribe. You might be mistaking the actions of the tribe to Kacchan. Kacchan is very standoffish to even meeting those outside of the tribe.”
“And who is this Kacchan?”
“Oh- Sorry, I mean Prince Bakugou.” Midoriya said offhandedly. “Kacchan was the nickname I gave him when we were children.”
Your father scoffed.
Midoriya looked at you. “If you are ready, I can take you to go meet him-”
“Women of Girisha are not permitted to speak to men without permission of their father or husbands, let alone walk off somewhere private with a man who is a stranger to her or her family.” Your father glared at Midoriya. 
Midoriya paused, looking up at your father with a look in his eye. His lips were in a line and his eyebrows were knitted.
A smile quickly painted his face, but it was no longer the smile from before. “Yes, my apologies. I had forgotten that was a custom for your people. I simply wanted to ask if she was ready to meet with the Prince.”
Your father replied. “I will be needing to discuss the travel arrangements with him.” As if that was an answer to the question.
You saw the strain on Midoriya’s face. “Of course. Follow me then.”
Midoriya turned and started to lead you two to a large tent, the tarp fabric being a red copper colour. On the ‘door’ to the tent had a symbol on it. The centre of it had a symbol of the first number. To the sides of the character were simplified wings, which met at a base before the numbered character. The symbol was painted on the tarp with a black ink.
Midoriya raised a hand as he got to the door. “Please wait here for a moment.” He said to the two of you before heading instead to the tent himself.
Leaving your father and you standing in the mud.
Your father sneered. “This place is a pigsty. It’s muddy, it smells, and none of the people here smell as if they have bathed.”
You looked down at your shoes, grimacing how they were dirty now. You wondered if your own nation’s army camps looked like this too. It’s not like you would ever know, women weren’t allowed near the army camps.
The tarp opened, seeing Midoriya’s smile. “You can come in now, Fourth Shachou.”
You followed in after your father. You bowed your head as you curtsied while your father merely bowed his head.
“Greetings, Prince Bakugou Katsuki. I am the Fourth of Nine Shachou Member,” Your father introduced himself, stating his name and family name. “As we agreed to in the peace treaty agreement, my daughter.”
You stood back up straight, introducing yourself by name to a man with wheat ash blonde hair and crimson red eyes. He was slouching in a chair, but if he stood up he would easily be one hundred and ninety-six centimetres tall. He had broad shoulders, with a tattoo that matched the symbol on the tent door. He wore a teal crop top that was laced up at the front, an orange sleeve with black patterning starting at his wrist to his mid upper arm, navy denim pants, a red coat with fur coating the neck line, high-low fur skirt that was held up by a dark brown belt, knee high grey boots, and leather armour on his knees and shoulders.
The man was staring at you, his eyes glued to your face and refusing to look away from your face. His finger tapped on his face, as if calculating something.
“I wanted to discuss-” 
“When did I allow you to speak?!” The blonde’s voice was loud, his attention now brought to your father. His glare would throw knives if they could. When your father wasn’t responsive, the prince let out a grunt, pushing his hand down his face. “Make it short.”
Your father hesitated before he spoke. “We have yet to discuss how my daughter will be transported and when the wedding will happen.”
“It’s happening tomorrow.”
“Excuse me?”
A cough came from a man who stood at one hundred and ninety centimetres tall with red hair and ruby red eyes. “His Majesty means the two will be flying there by dragon’s back today, which will allow the wedding to happen tomorrow evening. Traditionally, Barbarian weddings happen at sunset.”
Your father let out a nervous chuckle. “I see you are eager to end this war.”
“I’m eager for my old hag of a mother, the Empress, to stop sending me letters about her almost twenty-one year old son not coming back home.” The blonde corrected.
Your father suppressed a smile by gripping his own hand tightly that his nails dug into his palms. 
The beast of the East is easily controlled by the dominant woman in his life.
“Unless you want to transfer ownership of your daughter now and we get flying this second and have a late evening wedding?” The prince asked with a smug smirk.
Your father paused. “Ownership?”
“That’s how your people treat their women, right? They need permission to speak, which implies ownership over them.”
“I… Guess that is one way of interpreting our customs.” Your father grimenced. “I will permit her to travel to your continent for tomorrow's services. I expect that she will be housed within a separate room.”
“Of course.” The princes said with a smug expression. “I will get one of our axe-maidens to look after her.”
“I’m sorry, an axe-maiden?” Your father questioned. 
“Yes, a woman trained in wielding a battle axe.” The red head explained with a smile. “They start training when they are virgins sure, but they don’t have to stay forever to be an axe maiden.”
The prince looked over his shoulder, giving the red head a look. The red head looked away quickly.
Your father scoffed. “Of course. That will be permitted. Where should we place my daughter’s luggage?”
The prince paused for a moment before making a hand movement to Midoriya. “Tell them to put the luggage with Raccoon eyes’ luggage. We’ll fly separately.”
“Of course, Kacchan.” Midoriya smiled at the prince before walking out of the tent.
Once Midoriya had left the tent, the prince looked back at your father. “Better, Forth Shachou?”
“Will my daughter be permitted to send and receive letters?” Your father asked.
The prince’s lower eyelid twitches. “Yes, she will be able to send and receive. How long it will take will depend on the ocean.”
Silence grew between the two men as they glared at each other. You turned to look at your father’s face, seeing a frustrated expression.
You wanted to ask what it meant, but the expression on your father’s face gave you the answer already.
No.
“Kirishima,” The blonde looked at the red head. “Get your wife, and tell her she’ll be taking care of my betrothed.”
The red head nodded before walking past to leave the tent.
“We use the word intended.” Your father told the prince.
“Fortunately for me then that your daughter will be married to me. Therefore, she will be married in my culture and its beliefs.”
“Does that include your nation’s gods?”
The prince was silent. “I will not be forcing a belief system onto your daughter. She will be free to believe and practise her own beliefs as she wishes. At most, she will be asked to watch one of our rituals.”
“Very well.” Your father looked down at you then the prince. “Should I leave you two betrotheds alone?”
The prince lifted his head off his hand by about 2 inches. He stared at your father, searching to see for any ill intent before his eyes landed back on you. His eyes almost dug holes deep into your skin.
The prince breathed in through his nose. “...That is acceptable.”
Your father smirked to himself.
Weak men can easily be controlled by a woman’s influence.
Your father bowed his head before turning his back to the prince. He leaned close to you and spoke. “Behave.” Your father walked past you, leaning you alone with the prince.
The prince kept his eyes on you as he stood up. His steps towards you were slow, stopping when he was thirty centimetres between you two. His eyes were glued to you, soaking in your inner being. He took a breath in through his nose.
Was he smelling you?
“On Nihon, we address each other by our family names or titles unless we are close.” He told you. “Because we soon will be having the same last name, would it be alright if I called you by your given name?”
You slowly nodded your head, hesitating to speak. “That’s fine.”
“Would it also be alright if you called me Katsuki?”
“I can do that.”
He nodded, non-verbally communicating to you that he understood.
His eyes fell from your face and to the bead around your neck. He slowly pulled his hand to the beads and gently held onto them, tilted them to get a better look.
“What are these for?”
“Each bead represents one of our gods.” You told him as your hands went to one the beads. “This one is for our Goddess Soteria, a Spirit Goddess of Safety, Salvation, and Protection from harm.”
Katsuki was quiet as he let go of the beads. “Do you pray to her often?”
“Yes, she is my family's patron god.” You let go of the bead, your eyes landing on his necklaces around his neck. “Do yours also represent your gods?”
Katsuki looked down at his beads. “No, nothing religious. These are traditional cultural practices my family does. Each loop represents an event in our lives. The orange ones represent my birth, the red ones represent when I first used my magic, and the claw looking one represents my warrior spirit at the first religious hunt that we do.”
You gently held onto the necklace that was longer than the rest but had very little beads. “And what does this one represent?”
He watched you carefully, looking down at the three beads on that chain. 
“... An event that happened during the summer after my sixteenth birthday.”
He’s being vague for a reason. Best to drop the subject.
You dropped the beads and the subject.
“Bakugou I heard you wanted to-!” A feminine voice boomed into the tent.
Katsuki’s head lifted from looking at you, now glaring at whoever walked into the tent. You saw how his mouth went into a scroll and how his cheek twitched.
You turned your head, seeing a woman with light pink skin, messy pink hair, yellow horns, black sclera, yellow iris and stood at one hundred and seventy-five centimetres tall. Her mouth was shut and small as she sweat bullets upon seeing Katsuki’s face.
“Sorry, was this a bad time?” She asked.
Katsuki snarls his upper canines at the woman. He shuts his eyes and takes in a deep breath through his nose. Katsuki addresses you by your first name. “This is Kirishima Mina. She’ll be escorting and protecting you and who you will be travelling with to Nihon.”
Mina looked up at the prince, having a silent conversation before turning to you. She suddenly rushed towards you and held your hands in her own. “It’s nice to finally meet you! I’m Kirishima Mina! You can just call me Mina so you don’t get me confused with my husband.”
You were a bit startled by her forwardedness, trying to take a step back. Your back bumped into the prince’s chest, making you step forward towards Mina.
Mina leaned to the side and looked up at the Prince. “What’s first on the agenda today, boss?”
“You’re flying her to meet the Empress.” The prince replied. “The old hag will take care of everything until the wedding tomorrow.”
“Sorry- The wedding is tomorrow?!” Mina stared at the prince before looking at you. “Oh goodness! We don’t have the time!” She looked back at the Prince. “Wait until your mother hears about this!”
“Yeah yeah.” The prince gruffed. “Just make sure everything goes as smoothly as possible.”
“Right on it!” Mina smiled as she held onto your arm and started to guide you out of the tent. You noticed a few of the barbarians’ eyes on you once you left the tent, noticing your father’s eyes were not one of them.
The girl that was all pink guided you to an area that had bags of luggage, some of yours was mixed into that. There you saw Midoriya and the red haired man who you were pretty sure was called Kirishima.
Kirishima saw Mina, a side smile quickly forming on his face. “Mina! You came back quickly!”
“You could’ve told me the wedding was tomorrow!” Mina whined to her husband. 
Midoriya chuckled. “I’ve never seen Kacchan this eager to hurry something up.”
“He often complains that a rushed job isn’t a good one.” Kirishima sighed. “Yet all he has wanted to do regarding this is get it rushed.”
Mina turned to you with a smile. “I’m going to shift and these two are going to load our luggage onto me. This might take some time so try to find a comfortable place to sit.”
You were a bit confused in what Mina meant by that until smoke started to emit from her skin. A sudden cloud of smoke was around her body up to four times of her normal height. Once the smoke cleared, a pink Wyvern Dragon that had a yellow shine to its scales stood at  four times her normal height. She now stood at over seven metres tall, and that's when you didn’t count her yellow horns.
Kirishima sniffled, having a large smile on his face. “My wife's dragon form is so pretty, doesn’t she?” He asked you.
Kirishima stared at you, his smile going slightly flat when he noticed you weren’t responding.
“Oh, right.” Midoriya tapped Kirishima’s shoulder. “The custom for Girisha Women are that they have to have permission from their father or husband to speak to other men.”
Kirishima seemed shocked by this news. “But, didn’t-?”
A whine came from the big dragon, making Kirishima bring his attention back to her. He chuckled and started to move. 
“Sorry my love.” He told her. “I’ll start loading stuff on.”
You watched as the Dragon form Mina laid on her stomach as Kirishima put on a harness on her. It allowed one to sit in the centre of a circle but also allowed luggage to be strapped to the sides.
Midoirya tapped your shoulder, giving you a smile. “I know you can’t respond, but I do need to warn you that the flight from here to the capital will be over seventeen hours long. Mina should be able to push herself to fly the enter time, but you should sleep when night falls. Kacchan will be a couple of hours behind you.”
You simply nodded your head before turning back to watch Mina and Kirishima communicate somehow as they loaded everything up. You could only understand Kirishima’s end of the conversation, and it just sounded like banter.
You heard your name being called, and when you turned you saw your father. “Come here child, I wish to speak with you.”
As you walked away from Mina, Midoriya and Kirishima, Midoriya watched as you obeyed your father. They exchanged a look between each other. Mina’s dragon form let out a found, and in response Kirishima rubbed his hand along her body.
Once you were close to your father, he spoke to you in a hushed voice. “What did the prince talk to you about?”
“He asked if we could call each other by our given names, and then about our necklaces.” You answered your father, your hand going to the beads around your neck and starting to fiddle with them.
Your father had a smug expression on his face. “Really? Seems like the barbarian prince is weak to the woman around him.”
You pressed your lips together, thinking about how Katsuki reacted to Mina rushing into the tent. Though it was always possible he was just angry that the conversation was interrupted. 
Best to remember to not accidentally cut him off or interrupt him in the future.
“What do they plan to do with you now?” Your father’s voice cut through your line of thought.
“The Prince wants to send me over to Nihon as soon as possible. I’ll be leaving as soon as they finish packing my belongings onto the dragon shifter.”
Your father raised an eyebrow at you before looking at the pink dragon behind you. “I can’t believe they refused to ship you via boat because of possible sea monsters, and yet will happily throw you into the sky.”
You really doubted they made that decision because of safety concerns. They probably made that call because the war would only be considered postponed until the wedding happened. 
Maybe they were worried you would withdraw your consent to get married to The Prince?
Maybe that explained why he seemed kind with you alone in the tent.
Once the wedding happens though, I doubt he’ll keep up that act for long.
“Try to become close with The Prince.” Your father told you with a hushed voice. “Make him loyal to you and only you.”
You hesitated before nodding your head to your father. “I’ll write to you once I’ve settled in.”
Your father nodded his head. “Do try to be safe, child. We don’t have much information on their way of life, so we have no idea of the world you're about to be thrusted into.”
“Fourth Shachou,” A voice spoke. “I do hope you aren’t being rude about the people who will be taking care of your daughter.”
You both turned to see Katsuki there, his eyebrows knitted as he glared at your father. You noticed how he was slightly slouching. His eyes only darted to you for a moment though quickly went back onto your father to glare at him.
“Of course not, Prince Bakugou Katsuki.” Your father told him. “I am merely telling my daughter to be safe is all.”
“Oh really?” Katsuki raised an eyebrow at your father. “And how would you recommend your daughter to stay safe in a foreign land, Fourth Shachou? By staying in her room all day?” Katsuki turned his head slightly to Midoriya. “Is that not what we saw happening in some of the estates? They had locked their daughters and wives in a room?”
As Midoriya stuttered out of agreement, you remembered a lesson you were taught while growing up.
If a city is under siege, it is best to lock women in a hidden room for their protection.
You bit the inside of your mouth, one of your hands gripping your arm. If you did end up having to be locked in a room, wouldn’t that just mean you weren’t safe? 
“I simply don’t want my daughter to be victimised while under your care.”
“She won’t be.” Katsuki glared at your father. “No one who has ever been under my care has gotten hurt, and considering your daughter is to become my wife, I’ll be putting extra effort into it.”
“We’ll have to see how successful that is.” Your father snarked back.
Your father and Katsuki glared at each other. Midoirya came from the side, soft smiling at you. “It’s time to leave now, miss. I’ll help you-”
“No you won’t, Deku.” Katsuki turned, glaring at Midoriya. 
Katsuki stomped over to where Mina was. You tried to follow closely. Whatever this atmosphere was, you did not want to find out.
Once Katsuki got close to Mina, he gently grabbed hold of your waist and lifted you up. He let you lean on him as you climbed up onto Mina’s back and into the saddle. You heard your father start to complain to Katsuki about how to handle you properly. You elected to ignore it for now, trying to sit comfortable on the cushions that seemed to be strapped down to the saddle.
“How about you say your goodbyes to your daughter instead of correcting me!” You heard Katsuki’s voice boom aggressively as he addressed your father. “Considering this may be the last time you see her, I suggest you make it a kind goodbye.”
Last time?
Was Katsuki planning to get rid of you as soon as he could?
You looked over the edge of the saddle, seeing your father carefully approach.
You also noticed the glaring looks Katsuki, Midoriya, and Kirishima were giving you.
Of course, it all makes sense now. They are waiting for you to be alone and kill you. Of course they don’t like you and your father. Why did you think they would like you?
Your father called your name. “Just try to stay safe. Write to me about your progress there.”
You nodded your head, waving down at your father.
Mina stretched out her wings and jumped into the air, her wings starting to flap to keep her in the air. She started to ascend higher into the air before starting to fly through the sky, away from the war camp. She moved much faster than any boat or carriage you had been on.
You secured yourself as you felt your legs shake and shut your eyes.
Breathe, everything is going to be alright.
Just breathe.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You were woken up by a sudden landing, jolting you awake..
You were no longer in the air.
You sat up and rubbed your head, hearing people yell around you. You looked off the side of the saddle, seeing a woman who looked just like Katsuki yet shorter and wearing a crown on her head yell at staff around her. To her side was a man with brown hair and glasses, speaking very softly.
The woman looked up at you before smiling. “Good morning, young one. Would you like assistance getting down?”
You weakly nodded your head, rubbing your eyes and yawning.
She gave a laugh before yelling at someone to help you. Suddenly, a woman who appeared to be a witch of some kind floated up.
She had brown auburn hair that stopped at her shoulders except two side tufts that were a bit longer, brown hazel eyes, and hair skin that made her cheeks a soft pink colour. She was wearing a dark pink witches hat that had fake beige dragon horns, a vertically striped dress that ended at her mid thighs, black stockings, pink boots, and a green cape that was warmly wrapped around her neck and flowed down past her knees.
She smiled softly at you as she extended a hand out to you. “Grabbed hold of my hand and I’ll help you down.”
You looked down at the floor, wondering how the hell did Katsuki helped you up in the first place. You gently took her hand, and soon you felt your body become lighter. She was tugged down by someone in silver metal armour with a green cape coming from their armour. Once your feet touched the floor, she said ‘release’, which was followed by that light feeling going away.
The blonde woman walked towards you. You guessed this was Katsuki mother - and therefore The Empress - you bowed your head and curtsied before introducing yourself.
“Oh no need to do that, young one.” She chuckled, helping you up. “We will be family by day’s end. I am The Barbarian Empress of The Dragon Tribe, Bakugou Mitsuki, and this is my husband. Consort of The Barbarian Empress of The Dragon Tribe, Bakugou Masaru.”
As you bowed your head to Masaru, you noticed the witch float up again and started to float down the luggage. “It is nice to meet you, Empress’ Consort Masaru.”
He smiled. “It’s nice to meet you too, young lady. If I may ask, how old are you?”
“Nineteen, sir.”
“Hmm… And when is your birthday?”
You answered his question.
“So you were eighteen when the war started I see. Regardless, it seems like we will have to change the wine out for some grape juice.”
You blinked out of confusion. “Sorry?”
The Empress spoke. “At Barbarian Weddings, we have a cup the couple drinks out of. The couple must cut their hands and spill some blood into the cup before they drink from it. We see this as a form of physically connecting the two bodies together. The wine we use simply covers up the taste of the blood.”
“Why does the wine need to be switched to grape juice though?” You asked.
“The drinking age is twenty.” The Empress answered.
“I understand. Back home, our drinking age is eighteen for women, sixteen for men..”
“... Really? That’s interesting.” The Empress had forced a smile when she replied to you.
Masaru quickly spoke to try and heal any offence his wife might’ve offered you. “What do your people traditionally do during their weddings?”
“We drink wine to connect with the gods before cutting our hands and spill blood on the Goddess of Marriage, Hera’s statue so she can tie our fates together.” You informed them. “If a divorce were to happen, the statue would be broken.”
The two were silent, their mouths closed as they looked at you.
“It’s alright,” You told them. “I won’t expect The Prince to participate in my religious’ practices. I am marrying into his culture, not the other way round.”
The two seemed shocked by either your wording or what you had said, but before they could say anything, the witch had said the words ‘release’ once more.
You turned and saw all the luggage had been neatly placed on the ground. The witch started to float up again and take off the saddle that was around Mina. 
The Empress turned her attention back to you before speaking. “We don’t believe in divorce. The only way to separate from one’s spouse for us is through death.”
The knight - that had been standing off to the side for a short while - took off his helmet as you saw a man with dark blue hair and rose red petal eyes.
“Sorry to interrupt,  Barbarian Empress of The Dragon Tribe Bakugou Mitsuki.” He bowed his head to The Empress. “Shall I start to transport the Barbarian Prince Bakugou Katsuki’s betrothed’s luggage to her room?”
Does that mean you and Katsuki won’t be sharing a room?
“That would be lovely, thank you, Iida.” She smiled at him. “If you run into Miss Yaoyorozu or Miss Jiro, could you ask them to come see me please?”
“Of course,  Barbarian Empress of The Dragon Tribe Bakugou Mitsuki!” He bowed his head before picking up a few bags of your luggage before running off so far there was a strong gust of wind and a dust trail behind him.”
You watched as the dust trail faded away.
Did he really just address her by her full title? Twice? Were you expected to do that?
You heard a thump sound, and upon turning your head you saw the saddle had come clean off of Mina’s back. Smoke appeared around the Dragon form of Mina, and soon the more human looking form of her appeared.
Mina stretched her back, followed by some popping or cracking sounds coming from her back. She let out a sigh as she relaxed her shoulders, yawning.
The witch softly laughed. “Long night, Mina?”
“I want to have a nap so bad, girl.” She whined.
The Empressed called you by your name before gesturing to the witch. “This is Iida’s wife, Ochaco. She’ll be looking after you while you get ready for today and while Mina is resting.”
“No it’s fine, I can deal with it.” Mina yawned.
“Mina, you should rest.” Ochaco rubbed Mina’s back. “Once Eijiro gets here, I’ll send him your way.”
Iida returned back, grabbing more bags then running off again.
He was gone for maybe twenty-five seconds and he came back for more bags already? How fast is he?
And why was no one else reacting to what was happening?
There were rumours of the Island of Nihon having a high percentage of magical powers, but you weren’t expecting to see two - three if you counted Mina - people using their magical powers so openly.
Mina yawned, nodding her head and bowing her head to the Empress. “I hope everything goes well before The Prince gets here, Your Majesty.”
The Empress smiled. “Thank you for your kind words, Mina. Now go rest. I’m sure Katsuki would be thrilled to see you at the wedding.”
Mina sighed before picking up her bags, putting two on her bag and carrying two under her arms. She smiled at you kindly, her gaze upon you being soft. “Try not to stress out before the wedding, okay?” She told you as she started to walk away.
“Now, let's get you inside.” The Empress smiled at you. She turned and started to walk towards the large palace. The columns on the building were a light grey, almost matching the mountains behind the palace. The outside wall itself was a soft green with painted gold on. “This is the Winter Palace, and those mountains behind it are what we call the Dragon Range. It’s believed to be the original birthplace of our Dragon God. The Dragon Range takes up roughly sixty percent of our land. There is a massive tunnel system within the mountains where our dragon shifter brothers and sisters keep their hoards.”
Iida returned, stopping before the Empress. He bowed his head. “Barbarian Empress of The Dragon Tribe Bakugou Mitsuki, I have put the Barbarian Prince Bakugou Katsuki’s betrothed belongings in their room. I have also found Miss Yaoyorozu and have informed her of your request to meet you. She said she will be meeting you along the way in escorting the Barbarian Prince Bakugou Katsuki’s betrothed.”
“Thank you, Iida.” She smiled at him. “Make sure the Todoroki Family is playing nice today, please?”
“Of course, Barbarian Empress of The Dragon Tribe Bakugou Mitsuki.” Iida bowed before running off again, this time in a different direction.
Once the dust settled, the Empress turned to you. “He may be the most responsible and reliable out of the original group that went to go fight the Demon lord a few years ago, but he is too formal at times I fear there is a stick up his arse.” She softly laughed before turning to Ochaco. “No offence, Mrs Iida.”
Ochaco smiled at the Empress. “It’s alright, your Majesty. Tenya has his own charm on how to do things.”
Once you four had climbed up the steps, the Empress and her consort looked out to the view. You turned, and saw a beautiful view of the land below the mountains being a wide open green land before meeting the ocean. You saw in the distance on both sides, land curving inward on itself, revealing the landmass continent of Nihon was an earthy atoll. In the distance, you saw the headlands of the atoll - which were often referred to as the Heaven’s Gates within the rare texts your nation had on Nihon.
“Those green pastures down there are the rest of our Empire.” The Empress told you. “It’s where all the human barbarians used to live before the rise of the Demon Lord. And the water mass from our coast to the headlands is known as the Ocean's Heart. We believe the landmass that houses the god’s came from that section of Nihon.”
“It’s rather beautiful.” You said softly. 
“Yes, it is.” The Empress hummed. She suddenly slapped her hands together, startling you. “We must start getting you ready. We have a big day ahead of us!”
The Empress started to walk inside, expecting the rest of you to follow.
“There are five sections of the palace. Front, Back, Courtyard, Left Wing and Right Wing. This is the Front of the Palace, the entryway. Everything staff related is located to the Left Wing and therefore, the corner connecting the Front and Left Wing is the ball room. Everything the Imperial Family does is on the Right Wing, therefore the corner connecting the Front and Right Wing is the Library. The Back is where all the apartments are. The Back Right Wing Corner is the Emperor or Empress’ apartment and the Back Left Wing Corner is the Heir’s apartment. The rest of the apartments are often used as Guest rooms if the Imperial Couple does only have one child.  The courtyard is at the centre of the enter Palace. Following?”
You nodded your head. You were a little lost but you understood enough to somewhat follow along.
The Empress’ Consort seemed to read what was on your face before gently patting your shoulder and smiling. “We’ll offer you a map so you don’t get lost.”
The Empress continued. “There is a guest garden which is accessible on the Left Wing and a private garden which is accessible on the Back. Overall, there are over one thousand and five hundred rooms.” The Empress continued as the group entered into the courtyard. “There are three levels. Ground level is the only level guests have access to, even if they are in a guest room it’s on the ground floor. Servants and Guards have access to all floors, but their main walkways are on the top floor. The middle floor is where the Imperial Family operates.”
… You were so lost.
“The Prince will help you if you need any help.” Ochaco smiled at you. 
“One can only pray.” The Empress groaned, rubbing between her eyebrows. She then switched to muttering in a language you were not familiar with. It was harsh on the throat.
Masaru responded in the same language, but how the pronunciation sounded was different. His words sounded softer, still rich consonants but his vowels were softer.
She groaned. She turned to you. “If my son gives you any trouble, please do let me know. I don’t want him to be a burden on his first wife.”
First wife?
Ochaco then spoke to you to answer your unspoken question. “Barbarian Law states those of the direct line of the imperial family are allowed to have up to nine spouses. First spouse is Consort, second to ninth spouses are concubines. This is to make sure the Imperial Line can continue via blood.”
“Though filling all eight concubines spots hasn’t been done in four generations, and even then that Emperor used his eight concubines as secret guards.” The Empress spoke. “And on top of that, the Imperial crown can be passed down by mentorship or by battle. I was passed the Crown via winning a battle to the death against the previous Emperor who got the crown via mentorship. We believe only the strongest can rule the Barbarians.”
So your safety isn’t secure, is it?
“I doubt the Prince would take in a second spouse.” Ochaco tried to reassure you. “I don’t think he’s the type to deal with the politics that come with having multiple spouses.”
You looked at the plant life you were walking past, getting closer to the other end of the palace. You hesitated before speaking. “If I may ask, Empress, how did you meet your consort?”
“He was my dress maker.” The Empress answered truthfully.
Oh.
“How many concubines do you have?” You asked carefully.
The Empress continued to smile. “Only one.”
The rest of the walk was rather silent, The Empress and Consort leading you to the apartment section of the Palace. Surprising to you though, they guided you into your apartment section through the ground floor.
Once inside the apartment, you noticed how there were stairs leading up to the middle floor. The ground floor seemed more of a hosting room more than anything. There was a study that looked dusty, a weapons room with many weapons missing, a dining room, and two more additional hosting rooms. One that looked like it was already claimed by the Prince, and a second that had nothing in it for now.
It looked rather dusty, uncared for.
“I’ll make sure Katsuki takes you to the storage room tomorrow so you can pick out some furniture you’d like to decorate this space with.” Masaru said to you. “If you don’t like anything there, we can get it custom made for you. You can make yourself feel right at home here.”
“Shall I guide you upstairs?” Ochaco asked you.
“That is where our influence of this day ends for now.” The Empress spoke. “I’ll let the Priestess know you have arrived. The wedding will be starting at six in the afternoon when the sun sets. After your bath I suggest you have a nap. It’s going to be a long day.”
You watched as the Empress and her husband left before being led up the stairs. There were two bedrooms, a bathroom, and two dressing rooms. All of your belongings were put into the empty dressing room.
“We can unpack your things after we serve you breakfast.” Ochaco told you. “The Prince should be arriving around the time breakfast starts to be served. I’ll quickly summon a maid to give you a bath, though I’m not sure if there would be hot water active right now. Most barbarian families have baths after dark.”
“It’s alright, I can bathe myself.” You told her. “How my people bathe is by having bath houses, or we simply were ourselves in a stream or a lake close by. I preferred bathing myself in the stream by my family home, so cold water isn’t an issue for me.”
Ochaco was taken back by what you said, looking at you with a concerned and shocked expression. “Weren’t you worried someone would see you bathing?”
“Our Goddess of the Wild Hunt wouldn’t allow such a thing.” You told her. “And even if a fool were too, the punishment would be death.”
She stared at you, a shocked smile was on her lips. She turned away for a moment and mumbled something under her breath. You raised an eyebrow at her before dropping it. You really shouldn’t be surprised if the people here looked or talked about you because of the customs you were used to compared to their own.
“I need to get my soaps from my belongings, so we may as well start to unpack.” You told her as you moved to the empty dressing room and knelt down to pull out your belongings.
One of your bags had no clothes in it whatsoever, mostly carrying all of your religious items such as your miniature statues of the gods. For now, you put those items on a shelf and put your bathroom supplies off to the side.
Pulling out your clothing from your other bags took some effort. Half of your clothing was for warmer weather, which meant the fabrics were thin and breathable, sometimes even see through. While your window clothing was a thick cotton and would cover up your entire body. Only when you pulled out what was planned to be your wedding dress did Ochaco make any sort of noise about your clothing.
“That’s so beautiful.” She smiled at it widely and brightly. The dress was a maxi dress, having ve neck, bishop sleeves, an empire waist, and a handkerchief hem. The fabric was an almost white cream colour, being a lightweight fabric. “Did you pick that out yourself?”
“No,” You told her truthfully. “One of the other Shachou’s daughters who is married gave it to me.”
“Shachou?” She tilted her head. “What's a Shachou?”
You thought for a moment, thinking about how to describe it. “Back home, we have nine elected politicians. Those nine are called The Shachous, and they are ranked with the length they have held their power for. They govern Girisha, debating and voting amongst themselves policies and laws. They are voted in by the voting base, which are men who own land and pay taxes, and men can only pay taxes once they earn a certain amount of wealth.”
“Oh, so similar to the Shiketsu Kingdom?”
You stared at her. “Sorry, I am not familiar with that.”
“They are one of the Kingdoms of Nihon, located on the western headlands. They have a Royal Family, but they vote in a President every ten years. The President works closely with the King and Queen while the Vice-President works closely with the heir to the throne. Though only people who own a home in their capital can pay taxes and are able to be voted into office.”
“... That's similar I guess.” You answered her. “Though, we don’t have a royal family. We overthrew them almost two hundred years ago.”
“So does that mean the people of your home nation disapprove of this marriage?” 
“... I think they would only be angry about it if The Prince imposed himself as our next ruler.”
“But do they disapprove?”
“... They approve on the principle that the war is over. That is all.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You didn’t see the Prince, even after you had finished unpacking, bathed, had breakfast, had a nap on his bed, and had lunch. The only evidence you saw that he had returned was that his belongings had been making their return to the apartment the entire day.
The maids had practically locked you up in your dressing room, and they had given you bowls of strawberries and watermelon to snack on. They did your hair and did your makeup all while looking at some notes on a piece of paper.
You were disassociating for most of it, only being brought back to reality with a soft knock at the door. A feminine voice spoke from the other side of the door, saying your name with care. “I’m Yaoyorozu Momo, the Empress asked me to see how things were going. May I enter?”
You looked at how the maids reacted before answering. They continued to work around you, not giving the voice any mind.
So far no biases showing.
“You may enter.” 
Then in came a half naked lady, making your cheeks warm up.
She stood at one hundred and ninety-three centimetres tall, had black hair and eyes, while was wearing a metal armoured bra of some kind and metal armour on her hips that held up what would be mistaken for underwear, a fabric flowed from the bra and wrapped from behind her, a armour neck brace which held up a green cape, thigh-high stockings, oranges elbow gloves, and armours boots that reached her knees.
You were shocked by her attire, though no one else in the room seemed to be.
She smiled warmly and sweetly at you that you felt guilty for questioning her attire.
“I hope everything is going well.” Her smile beamed. “I made sure the maids had all my notes on what your culture’s hair and makeup typically looks like for weddings. I was so honoured that the Empress even knew of my love for your culture’s aesthetics. 
You were silent for a moment before turning to a maid. “Could I see myself in a mirror please?”
“Yes ma’am.” Said one of them before giving you a mirror. You were surprised to see your hair was done perfectly in the style your people did during weddings and they did it in such a way it suited you. The make up as well made you feel beautiful.
“I’m glad you seem to enjoy it!” She beamed before blushing from nervousness. “I should reintroduce myself- I’m Yaoyorozu Momo, I’m a Mage Commander for the Barbarian troops. My magic allows me to create things from my body, though it uses the fat on my body. It’s why I dress in such a way.”
“I see.” You looked down at her cape. This is now the fourth person you’ve seen wearing a green cape. 
“Usually for Barbarian Weddings,” Yaoyorozu broke you from staring at her cape. “Both the bride and groom wear matching earrings. Prince Bakugou will be wearing his on his left ear for the wedding and we were just wondering if it would be alright if we asked you to wear some on your right ear?”
“I don’t have my ears pierced.” You told her, you were about to explain why but she began talking.
“I am aware your people only allow oracles to wear earrings, but these ones wouldn’t need you to piercing your ears.” She walked over to you and a section of her skin started to glow. She cupped the area that was glowing right before the light stopped, crocheting down before you. She presented to you what was in her hand, which were four gold earrings that had a clip maniche for the back of the earring. “These are clip-on earrings. They won’t require any form of piercing onto your ear. They might be a little painful considering the size of the earrings, but I think they could still work.”
You gently picked it up from her hand and took a closer look. The earring itself was two centimetres in length less than a centimetre in width. Where the gold would be connecting to your ear was a very tiny bulge on both sides.
“... This is acceptable.” You told her. Her face lit up and you heard a maid somewhere sigh in relief. 
“May I put them on you?” She asked. Once you gave a nod, she carefully reached to your right ear and started to put them on your ear. Surprisingly to you they were painful, though they were slightly heavier than what you expected. She pull away and gave you the mirror so you could look at them.
“They look very well on you, ma’am.” One of the maids told you.
“Do you like them?” Yaoyorozu  asked.
“... They will go well with my dress.” You told her, not wanting to admit you liked them there.
Yaoyorozu  stayed crouching before you. “I need to tell you something before the wedding begins.”
Your heart sank, fearing the worst. 
Were they going to sacrifice you or kill you right after the wedding?
“I know for your traditional weddings, the night after the wedding is usually the couple’s first time.” Yaoyorozu spoke gently. “For us, we wait until the woman’s first period after the wedding just so we know the first child is of the married couple. Though the Empress and the Prince have been informed of your culture and traditions regarding the first night, it is unclear what the Prince wants. Which is very unlike him.”
You tilted your head at her comment at the end. 
Unlike him? 
“So I just want to warn you that if you two don’t do it for the first time tonight, then please don’t take it personally. He probably doesn’t want to overwhelm you. Or on the other hand if he does ask if you two could do it tonight, don’t feel pressured to say yes. I know Prince Bakugou seems rough around the edges but he is sometimes surprisingly respectful.”
Why was she doing this? Why is she trying to warn you about this?
It didn’t matter what happened tonight. You were now property of the Prince because of the Peace Treaty. It didn’t matter if you were or weren’t in Girisha, you were still a man’s property. 
“Can I ask you something?”
She gently gripped your hands with hers. “Anything.”
“Why do you, the Iidas and Midoriya wear the same matching green cape?”
The maids froze, looking over their shoulders to watch the interaction. Yaoyorozu was taken aback by your question, not expecting the question to be about a cape.
“Well, the cape shows which Prince I am loyal to.”
“I thought there was only one Prince of the Barbarians.”
“... Officially. Honorary Prince Midoriya Izuku by the status of his mother being the second spouse and first concubine of the Empress. Midoriya was born three years before the two had met and was fourteen when the Empress killed his biological father. It’s the only way to legally transfer spouses for us barbarians, to beat them in a battle to the death.”
You remembered what the Empress told you earlier, that the imperial crown could be passed down via a fight to the death. 
Does that mean if someone challenged Katsuki to one of these battles while being emperor and he lost, you would be handed over to the next Emperor or Empress?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Once the sun started to set, you were brought out of your dressing room wearing your wedding dress by a woman who had blonde hair, aqua eyes, and stood at one hundred and seventy-one centimetres tall. She wore oval framed glasses, a white with pink accents priestess dress, and a small green cape.
Seems like Midoriya has many who support him.
She smiled politely and bowed her head to you, calling you by your name. “It’s an honour to meet you. I am Priestess Shield Melissa. Since you have no father figure with you here today, I will be walking you down the aisle before you exchange vows.”
You bowed your head slightly. “Thank you, Priestess.”
She paused. “Why are you bowing your head?”
“Back in Girisha, we see Priestesses as higher status since they have a higher connection to our gods than most of us do.” You informed her.
She made a face. “Well we don’t do that here.”
“I understand, it’s simply my customs-”
“Then I recommend you keep your Girisha customs to yourself.” She butted in. “Our Prince has already decided to go against our traditions by marrying you before he is supposed to. He is supposed to only marry after his twenty-first birthday, which is in forty-one days anyway but he was adamant this ‘wedding’ should be done right away.”
You stared at her, though not surprised someone was rude to you, simply shocked it was a priestess and so openly.
You were expecting someone to be rude to eventshully.
“I recommend you start learning our ways sooner rather than later. Prince Bakugou is not known for being nice to outsiders.” She glared at you before turning her back to you. “Let’s get going now. I don’t want to be blamed for you being late to your own wedding.”
She turned on her heel and started to walk out, expecting you to follow. Gripping onto the beads around your neck, you put your hands together and brought them to your face as you started to pray to your gods.
“Goddess Soteria, please gift me with your protection and safety.” You mumbled under your breath. “Goddess Hera, please bless me with a good husband who will not hurt me.”
Melissa rolled her eyes as you continued to walk. You were so consumed with praying, you didn’t realise you had reached your destination until you bumped into the back of Melissa.
She looked over her shoulder, raising an eyebrow.
“Sorry-”
“Members of the Imperial Family do not apologise. Now, place your hand on my forearm so we walk down the aisle.”
You turned your head to look, seeing a long wedding aisle that was over one hundred metres in length. 
The longest aisle back in Girisha was barely forty metres long and you were expected to walk down one that was more than double?
“Are you ready?” Melissa asked with an annoyed tone.
You gently put your hand on top of her forearm then started to walk with her for almost two minutes. You tried to ignore the stares you knew you were receiving, keeping your eyes on the red carpet before you.
When Melissa moved her arm away, it was because you had reached the end of the aisle. You saw Katsuki’s grey boots before tilting your head up to look at him. It appeared that the left side of his hair was gelled back, showing his piercing on said ear to the crowd. 
His red crimson eyes were glued to you. He looked at you up and down, looking at the dress you were wearing.
He didn’t give anything that showed he approved or disapproved of the dress, though his eyes seemed to focus on where the beads around your neck were sitting.
Melissa forced a cough to force Katsuki to look at her. 
“Today we are gathered here at sunset to bare witness a man and woman be forever tied together in matrimony, taught to us via the gods.” Melissa started. You heard soft mumblings in the audience but decided to give it no mind for now. “Barbarian Prince of the Dragon Tribe, Bakugou Katsuki, do you take this woman as your wife, to live together, to hunt for her, to love her, to honour her, to comfort her, and to keep her in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, for long as you both live?”
Katsuki looked back down at you, his eyes unreadable. “I do.”
Melissa turned to you and said your name. “Do you take this man as your husband, to live together, to bear children for him, to love him, to honour him, to comfort him, and to keep him in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, for as long as you both live?”
To hunt for her and bear children for him? 
You didn’t know where those lines came from or why it was in the wedding, maybe it was just a barbarian thing?
“I do.”
Two children walked up to you. A fourteen year old girl and a twelve year old boy. Both had hair that was either blonde or a very light brown, brown eyes, and freckles on their noses. Both held red pillows, the girl’s sat a short blade and a miniature statue of your Goddess Hera - how she had it you had no idea - on it and the boy’s having two rings.
Katsuki picked up a ring that housed a crimson ruby. He gently grabbed your hand and slid the ring on your ring finger as he spoke. “I, Prince of the Dragon Tribe, Bakugou Katsuki, take this woman as my wife from this day forward, for better or for worse, richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part.”
You picked up the golden ring and grabbed Katsuki's hand. Sliding on his ring on his ring finger, you stated your name. “-take this man as my husband from this day forward, for better and for worse, richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and cherish, till death do us part.”
As you spoke, Katsuki picked up the blade and cut into his left hand. Once you had finished the ring exchange he picked up the statues, smearing his blood on it. You cut into your left hand, tracing the scar from previous religious rituals. He passed the statue to you so you could smear your blood on it.
Melissa passed Katsuki a chalice filled with grape juice. He squeezed his hand so his blood would pour into the cup before passing it to you and taking the statue from you. As you did the same to pour your blood into the chalice, you noticed how rough Katsuki passed the statue to Melissa.
Katsuki took the cup from you, keeping eye contact as you took a sip from it. He passed it back to you, putting his hand securely under the cup as you took a sip. Melissa took the cup, raising it into the air.
“By virtue of the authority vested in me by the Gods, I pronounced these two husband and wife!” Melissa announced to the audience. “You now may kiss the bride.”
Suddenly, Katsuki grabbed your face and pulled you close. His lips met yours with passion, leaving you confused. You closed your eyes as the crowds started to cheer and clapped.
As the crowd continued to cheer and clap, Katsuki pulled away with a smirk.“You're mine now, and you won’t be going anywhere.”
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arcanistvysoren · 1 year ago
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I'm still sort of on hiatus here, but yeah.... so this happened.
Things I can add from a personal experience:
the ruling only took 5 hours, which is considered incredibly quick;
the LGBT flag is now considered as offensive and as criminal as a exhibiting a swastika and you will be fined or worse for displaying it;
maintaining any kind of queer organization (club / event / pride / theme party) is punishable by roughly 12 years in prison;
they purposefully elected to outlaw this vague and ephemeral "international public movement" because there is no such thing as an organized public queer movement, which means legally no one can contest / dispute / etc. this ruling; or, at the very least, it would be very difficult; it is being ridiculed by some sources as absurd because it sounds like Russia is afraid of some conglomerate gay boogeyman, but the wording is actually purposefully nefarious;
none of it is surprising because this was the social understanding in this country for years, following years of other tightening of screws; i remember the propaganda ad from a few years back which was run in support of prohibiting gay couples from adopting; it was vile; it has been getting more and more homophobic and vile here with each passing day;
this line in the article is crucial: "The authorities portray LGBT activism as something inherently Western and hostile to Russia." -- russia is being deeply separated from the rest of the world by governmental propaganda, and anything Western has been considered for over a decade as malicious influence; this is directly tied to the war, too, because the public outcry and condemnation of the war by the West and the withdrawing of business and other punitive reactions are just being trotted out as more proof that the West is the immoral enemy and hostile to this nation.
so, today we, russian queers, may become "extremists" by decision of russian supreme court and thus our existence will be silenced and erased. any queer activism will be impossible for us. I don't know what to do anymore. I was heartbroken when they passed the laws about "gay propaganda" and transgender people, now I'm just numb. I don't want to escape. I just want to live safely in my own country.
please hear us.
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clove-pinks · 1 year ago
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The U.S. frigate United States capturing H.B.M. frigate Macedonian: fought, Octr. 25th. 1812 / lith. & pub. by N. Currier, c. 1835-1856 (LOC).
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anoonimthepoorchad · 10 months ago
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The more I reblog posts, the more I notice that many ppl reblog victims and damage of russian attacks without using the tag "russia". I hate using it as well because the word seeks with poison to me. But I still do, because if you look at the tag, you'll see photos of people enjoying russian things like they're not killing us at this very moment.
I need russian cruelty and russian bloody imperialism to be at the very top of the tag. They have been covering their own name with so much blood of the innocent people, everyone should see exactly what their culture nourishes. This is justice to the victims, this is the bitter truth of evil going unpunished. This is help towards the innocent, towards those hurting right now because of russia. This is how you spread the truth and focus on the truly important matter. So I encourage everyone to never avoid speaking the name of the criminal out loud.
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