the barbarous years

My 11 year old nephew about Trump’s new transgender ban in the US military: “Are you kidding me? That’s barbaric!” 11 year olds are smarter than you, Trump!

You are Mine || MakoHaru


{ TRIGGER WARNING: Torture, slavery }

The sound of the whip crashing onto broken flesh could be heard. Makoto’s back was a mess of blood, bruises and cuts. He was exhausted by the time the commander ceased the torture. Makoto was no longer restrained, as all his energy has left him. He laid limply on the ground, before someone’s foot kicked at his chin to force his gaze. He was a prisoner of the war that had raged on for years. The Barbaric country of Mushino has forcefully invaded Makoto’s country, and the simple herbalist was forced to go to war. His timid nature resulted in his capture and his torture, which has gone on for a month now. 

A few days has gone past since his torture. Makoto had used his knowledge in herbalism to heal his own wounds and helped his fellow prisoners. His work was spoken of between prisoners, and even some of the soldiers who were not aggressive in nature consulted him. Makoto’s ability to prevent wound infections made his name known, and somehow, the princess was searching for him. 

He was summoned to a room of the prison where he assumed tactical meetings would take place. He saw a young woman with sharp and defined features sitting at the main desk. Before he could say anything, or react in any ;way the young man felt a kick to the back of his knee, which forced his body to fall. He kept his head low, fearing the torture that may follow. But instead of a kick to the face, or someone stepping roughly onto his fingers or chest, he was greeted with a voice that was soft, yet somehow had the poison of a thousand snakes.

The woman smirked as she saw the scars littered on Makoto’s body. She stood up from her seat and walked over to inspect the man, a frown growing on her face as he dared to make eye-contact. She kicked him across the face, then grabbed him by the jaw and dug her red nails into his skin. “Every man who dares look at me must die…” She teased as he gritted his teeth. The barbaric Princess ran a finger over his eyelid, allowing her nails to scratch rather roughly against the skin. “You’re in luck today, I’m feeling merciful..” The woman was not in a foul mood. Her father had promised to take her to Mezuka to see the Royal family. The King of Kazaiki wanted the wealth of Mezuka, so he decided to ask for a form of Peace Treaty, which will only begin if the Eldest Prince of Mezuka accepted his daughter’s hand. The Prince was renowned for his stoic and overall disinterest, which was why the Princess fell for him in the first place. She was accustomed to men trying to win her favour, or pathetic princes offered up as ‘Peace Gifts’. This prince gave her no attention, which quickly sparked her interest. She has met him once, and had since never stopped thinking of his expression. 

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