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adonis-koo · 5 years ago

Text

sate • jjk

↳ Summary: It was forbidden, your love for him. The glances you’d both steal when no one was looking and the whispered sweet nothings he’d say when you were alone. He would never be yours and his thirst would never be sated until you were his.

↳ Genre: Vampire!AU, Prince!AU, mutual pining, slight angst, smut,

↳ Word Count: 14k

↳ Pairing: Jungkook/Reader, Taehyung/Reader

↳ Tags: Virginal sex, praise kink, slight begging, eating out, fingering, finger fucking, multiple orgasms, biting, blood drinking, forced orgasm, squirting, dirty talk, unprotected sex,

Note: it’s spooky season and this oneshot is a big rabbit hole to halloween!verse so prepare yourselves.

“Don’t look so depressed Y/n- maybe he doesn’t remember?” Those were not the words you wanted to hear. Of course you wanted to imagine that maybe he didn’t remember, maybe this was just a coincidence, it could be a lot of things. And if you really wanted, you were sure you could convince yourself with enough past humiliation and lingering embarrassment that he definitely didn’t remember. If he had, remembered it of course.

The Prince, was a gentleman and had never brought it up, but on the days when your neck was exposed and you’d bend over a little too far to grab something in his presence, you could swear, you could feel his gaze lingering on your chest.

Just the thought had your cheeks flushing red and your body pulsing in both shame and arousal. You had grown up in the castle, having been there since the royal guard stumbled upon you in the remnants of a crashed carriage, left out in the cold night of October, abandoned by your parents, you never knew a life outside of these stone, gothic walls.

You always saw the Prince and he would ever so often see you, but nothing more than a passing glance between maids while passing you down the hallway, or perhaps when you stood off to the side when the king was holding court. He had seen you, but he never truly saw you

Not until four months ago when the head of royal staff gave you consent to use one of the guest rooms to bathe in, your room at the time had been occupied by a wounded vampire in needed of both healing and rest leaving you without a place to wash.

It had been a pure mistake, you didn’t realize the guest who had been departing that day had previously left her necklace inside the room- and of course being the gentleman he was the Prince had went to receive it for her. What he instead found was you, having just got out of the bath and barely covering your naked, exposed body in time. Your hair had been pushed back and your neck fully of display.

You had never seen his eyes turn such a bright red in your whole life, his fangs had been protruding and you were surprised he had such self restraint to keep himself from just lunging at you and taking you on the ground, it had been late that evening before most feeding times for vampires, leaving them hungry and ready for their meal.

Instead he had shut the door before apologizing, though it came out more like a hungry, lust filled growl. You had been mortified and that day had played in your head on repeat ever since.

Ever since then his gaze had begun to find yours more days then less, and if you weren’t so pragmatic, you would’ve assumed he had even been searching for you throughout the crowd of maids that filled the halls. There had been a shift in the air ever since for you, and now being his personal maid? It was a true hell.

He’d never bring up that incident but today- he had referenced to it. Or at least you assumed, he did when you whirled away from him with bright pink cheeks and watching that fowl predatory smirk burn into his lips only but for a brief second.

He was going to be the death of you! You often stayed by his side most days down, fetching anything he could possibly need or want and when you weren’t doing that you were usually running errands for him or cleaning up both his office for official business or his room. His bedroom.

Being a human, in a kingdom of vampires was a very strange feeling, it wasn’t necessarily rare for there to be humans technically they weren’t needed, born vampires could still used turned vampires to feed on, humans were still welcomed nonetheless.

But to understand that difference was seldom something you could comprehend. A bedroom, for instance, was a general, practical use for a human, it’s where you slept every night, where you’d go if you were sick or tired. None of which was useful for a Vampire.

Vampires, rarely had use for a personal room, the only exception was that it was their private space, somewhere they could relax in the brief long life they lived. It was for humans too of course, but you understood it was vastly different, Vampires didn’t take luxury of sleeping most nights given it wasn’t needed and there was always work to be done.

You still didn’t understand why vampires were so picky on who entered their space, but their bedroom was almost completely off limits to anyone as it was a sacred space for themselves alone. Asides from their mate whom they usually shared it with and the exception of one maid to clean it.

The main reason they had a bedroom, was because that’s where they fed. Just the idea had you flush in the cheeks, feeding was rarely just them biting a neck and going on their way. Or so you had heard from donors. Most vampires, usually mixed their sexual appetite with their hunger when they fed, apparently the adrenaline made it that much better from the human- or again, so you had heard.

Adjusting the blood red choker you wore you fidgeted before sighing, “Yeri, vampires have better cognitive memory than humans can even comprehend. I’m positive he remembers.” Your mind had far drifted from the topic at hand though. Your choker wasn’t for fashion sake, all of the human royal staff were gifted with one due to its charm and sigal placed on it.

Should a vampire ever try to bite you their teeth would practically shatter before puncturing your skin and if they dared try to take it off, the sigal would cause their skin to burn. It didn’t have to be worn, but for those humans who didn’t want to risk assault usually wore it, yourself included.

Lots of humans usually volunteered through the donor practice making sure vampires were well fed, the royals kept among themselves though. Your Prince, having his own personal pick of several human ladies in waiting as even for feeding it was important it would remain in his circle of wealth.

You had heard the pleasure from it was like none other from plenty of people who had become a donor, but you yourself had always been too nervous to enroll in a donor practice, you hadn’t even slept in the same bed as a man before.

You had spent your whole life working to become apart of the Sisterhood who worked under the moon goddess and protected most of the forest. Or so you had seen and aspired to be like, you would first have to work as a nun though and thus taking an oath of celibacy. It wouldn’t be until the upcoming spring though, leaving you with less then a year at the palace.

Glancing down into the large goblet you watched the red wine mix with the blood that had been stored in the kitchen, a vampire delicacy, Yeri frowned before she gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze, her face pale and lifeless but it shone like the moonlight sparkling against the sea, her eyes almost hypnotically dark enough to get lost in, “I’m sure he meant no harm by his comment, go on you shouldn’t keep his Highness waiting.”

You nodded, offering a weak smile before shuffling out of the kitchen and back into the large hallway, guards filtering past you on rotation and a few ladies of the court giggling in the corners of the room, you, much like most maids were simply in the background of a beautiful portrait that was the livelihood of the castle.

You had quickly journeyed up the many sets of stairs, your legs weak and pulsing in a dull ache for protest to stop as you finished your last set of stairs into the hallway that you had become painfully familiar with.

Pausing in front of the large solid door you gave a gentle knock, you had always knocked, always frightened despite his insistence that in fear you would walk in without announcement and he’d be in the middle of feeding, even if it was unlikely.

Vampire’s always fed after dark or before they took luxury in sleeping and everyone knew that, had you walked down the halls in the dead of night you could hear the soft moans that filtered through the hallway.

“Come in.” His voice was soft and deep, dulcet and yet strong at the same time, Jungkook had already sensed your presence, the beat of your heart pulsing in the rhythm of the only human within the next four floors. Opening the door gently his back was turned to you, books scattered around his desk, some from personal entertainment while others had been from his studies.

Even long past his days as a physical child most still looked at him as nothing more than a youngling, and you supposed for most vampires he was, staggering at the young age of 225, it was still hard to imagine he was really that old.

He didn’t look a day older than twenty two at least, his long locks of black hair silky to the touch and his pale face sculpted with fullness and life making his supernatural beauty all the more striking.

Closing the door gently behind you before approaching him as you softly called, “Here, something to help the thirst.” His eyes flickered up from his book as you set down the goblet near him on the desk, his lips quirking upwards slightly and his deep red eyes- ones only the royals held seemed to brighten a little as he nodded his head in gratitude.

Not a word was spoken after that as you changed out his old sheets, he was fairly clean when he fed but you could tell he must’ve been hungrier than normal last night, the blood smearing against sheets in several splatters as you pulled them off, it was rare for the sheets to appear so...sloppy.

You didn’t know what it was like to have a lust for blood though and therefore never felt comfortable judging a vampire on how they fed, you couldn’t imagine what kind of self restraint it took to feed slowly and never make a mess. Pulling the sheets neatly over the corners of his bed before resetting each layer of blanket.

You couldn’t resist letting your hand run over the red velvet throw blank that went on the edge of the bed, it was so soft and brought a sense of comfort against your fingertips, “You’re always so fond of that blanket,”

You jolted, heart rate jumping as you clutched your chest at the sound of Jungkook’s voice, his eyes still focused on his book before letting them flutter to meet your figure, “Why not just take it? I can have another replaced.” He had noticed that? You supposed it had become a habit for you to run your fingers along the fuzzy, soft material each day you made his bed.

Glancing away from him you finished smoothing out the fabric before humming, you felt a weary smile pull across your lips as you murmured, “Red’s never been my color.”

You could feel his eyes drop to your neck, the dark red choker that clung to your skin shielding him from the temptation to have just a taste, his appetite never sated at night knowing you were in your own bed alone, those pretty locks of hair out of the loose style you always wore up and maybe, if he were lucky you’d have took your choker off.

He could feel the sting in his abdominal as his feeding hour ticked closer and his fangs threatening to lengthen, “I’d disagree,” He hummed, forcing his eyes back down to the book as you paused, taking your own turn to watch the strands of black hair grazed over his eyes, “You make red look divine.” you could practically see the flash in his eyes as they hungrily met yours with a murmur of his own.

Your cheeks flushed the same color as the blanket you had finished smoothing out as you now refused to look at him. It would be hard to deny the attraction you felt between you both, but it was also silently agreed to never go farther than a mere few whispered words saying otherwise.

“I’m sure red looks good on anyone too you.” You muttered before going to the head of the bed, fixing the pillows properly as you refused to meet his gaze that blatantly kept on your figure, his attention now more fixed on you then his studies.

Red, was often not worn by vampires- as it was a color that humans were supposed to wear by law when they went out. Red just like the blood that flowed through your veins.

“Come here.” His voice was soft, but the demand was prominent in his voice making you freeze before swallowed, your grip on the round cushion tightening before you forced your knuckles to curl from it’s material while setting it down. Obediently you walked up to his seated position, eyes on the patterned dark rug as you felt your anxiousness creep up on you and the heartbeat you knew he could hear spike.

Jungkook stood up before grabbing the goblet you had so kindly thought of getting him as he glanced down at the deep maroon taking a sip of it himself as the sweet liquid slid down his throat, licking his lips before his gaze set on your figure who refused to look at him.

Cupping your chin gently he lifted to make you gaze at his tall dark figure, the long dark raven hair slanting the view of his eyes as he thumbed your chin before sliding his thumb across your bottom lip, so soft.

He could only vividly imagine what it would be like to kiss them, pressing the goblet to your lips he finally let out a soft purr, “Drink.” You let your eyes flutter shut as he lifted the glass, letting the dark liquid slip between your lips.

The wines sweet taste was overpowered by the bitter twinge of metallicness causing it’s texture to become thicker than normal but you obediently swallowed the small sip before he pulled the goblet from your lips, letting his thumb swipe at the leftover stain it left on your lip.

He finally let go of you before letting his tongue drag over the pad of his thumb, his lidded eyes never leaving yours, “Nothing compares to even just a taste.” He leaned in as he murmured, barely above a whisper.

Glancing up at his towering figure your mouth quirked into a frown he never enjoyed seeing on such pretty lips, he and you both knew there was no point in whispered sweet nothings, or even flirting with the idea. If he ever drank from you, you’d be exiled no doubt and you had no family or home to go to if that were too happen.

And yet you still found yourself drawing closer to him, you couldn’t use his seductive charm as an excuse as your choker warded it off, it was his own energy that drew you in. Just before your lips could meet fate had knocked on the door causing you to jump back as he sighed.

Eye’s still shut briefly as if already knowing someone had been on their way up. You seemed dazed for a second, your cheeks red and ears burning before rubbing your head and quickly making way for the door.

Opening the door you anticipated one of the servants to be requesting you for something, your lips already parted ready to speak before they your brows shot up at the sight before you, “Lady Kang,”

You instantly dropped to a small curtsy, this must’ve been the lady in waiting he had chosen for feeding, wasn’t it a little early though? “My apologies, I would’ve left sooner had I known you would be arriving early for the night.”

Kang Minsoo only spared you one guarded glance, her face curled in slight disgust as to why a lowly maid such as yourself was in the bedroom of the crown Prince, “Apology accepted, be sure to leave early tomorrow though, I will be arriving at the same time. You may see yourself out.”

Her words were formal and sharp as she sized you up, you supposed she had every right, she was after all possibly the most likely candidate chosen to carry the next heir of the kingdom.

You instantly curtsied once more as you answered, “Yes m'lady,” You quickly skirted past her out the door before silently sighing turning around briefly to find Jungkook peering at you from the other side of the door, Minsoo in front of him and yet his eyes hungry stared at you, “Have a nice night.”

You closed the doors, cutting off your view of the Prince before sighing, pressing your head against the hardwood briefly, your fingertips brushing over your lips where Jungkook had previously placed his own.

You could already hear a loud moan from the otherside of the door as you clenched your fist in anger. How dare he make you feel so exposed, so open only to knowingly be interrupted. Did he just enjoy taunting you? Knowing you could desire him all you wanted but fully knowing you’d never have him.

At the sound of another moan, you forced your breath to calm as you straightened your back. If anyone where to pass by you’d surely look indecent listening in on the intimacy of Jungkook’s feeding.

Swallowing you turned your back, forcing the emotions back down your throat before making your way back down the stairs, candles lining against it casting a darker tone over them.

Feeding would begin soon for the rest of the vampires and it would be best if you headed for bed. No longer required by the Prince for the rest of the night, though secretly you wished he would.

Opening the door to your room you sighed, gently shutting the door before shedding your clothes for your nightgown, your hand briefly running over your neck while the vivid memory of Jungkook staring at the skin burned in your mind, your body was burning in such intense desire it felt difficult to stand.

You forced yourself to lay down, refusing to let your hands get the better of you as your imagination ran wild. You doubt you’d get any sleep that night.

You could feel the stares on your figure from most of the knights in the room. The Prince had asked you to accompany him on this meeting and more days then less, it was never needed and you often just busied yourself when he attended them. Today had been different though and you couldn’t place why. You’d never deny him though and therefore stood a little ways behind him, hands clasped behind your back as you observed their discussion.

“Your Highness, Incúrsio has requested for aid, their sacrifice to the dark lord will be upon them soon and their hysteria is heightening with each day. They fear they’ll be raided by the near pack Blood Moon despite our treaty with them…” The head knight, Marcello had reported, his eyes had only met yours briefly when you had entered into the room behind Jungkook.

Despite your presence in the room being unnecessary, no knight had the courage to speak up on it though, was it from fear, or from loyalty? You weren’t sure but stayed quiet throughout the meeting nonetheless, assuming they wouldn’t want the opinion of a maid regardless.

The village on topic: Incúrsio had apparently been under plague of a demon’s curse where the village would sacrifice a young virgin girl every year to keep from the demon destroying it’s village- though you had heard different tales saying it would swallow the world whole. You had always been a little more pragmatic though. And like most knights in the room- though they hadn’t said it, you could tell they didn’t believe the myth, and neither did you.

Jungkook remained quiet until then, sitting leaned back in his chair and his hands had intertwined while his chin rested on them looking in deep thought before speaking up, “I’m aware Incúrsio is used heavily for our most used trading route. It would make sense to repay them for their agreement to let us pass through, would it not?”

Everyone was quiet for a moment, as if not sure what he was getting at. But you had to resist the urge to smile, his logic couldn’t be faulted, it was not only a good reason but a kind one as well to send guards as thanks for tribute to the successful trading route that had been established through passage of Incúrsio, but more importantly it kept the wolf pack Red Moon at bay from suspicion of a possible attack on their kin and the villagers of Incúrsio more secure of their safety while all parties remained neutral with each other.

Your Prince was always a smart one, you’d give him that. You felt an odd sort of pride swell in your chest as you glanced at the back of his chair. He had always been so kind to everyone and never dismissed a persons concerned, no matter how silly and Incúrsio was a perfect example of his truly gentle nature.

All of the knights began to slowly agree as if finally coming to the conclusion and the meeting had since been dismissed. All of the knights leaving outside of one. Your childhood friend Taehyung’s eyes lingering on yours for a brief moment as you passed him a small smile, walking over letting him speak before you as he always did, “I didn’t expect to see you here Y/n.”

He had already grabbed your hand, an awful habit of his since he was a child but you couldn’t reprimand him when he had such a soft boxy smile adorning his features.

You had parted your lips to speak only for the voice behind you to speak louder, “Unless you have council with me Kim you may go.” Jungkook’s voice was deeper than usual and held an almost icy tone making Taehyung quickly straighten up, his hand letting go of yours as he bowed. Sending you one last look before departing from the room.

Frowning you watched him shut the door before turning to face the Prince, his hair had been covering his eyes making him look more broody and his glare rested on the door that previously shut before he allowed his shoulders to relax and his expression soften as he let his gaze cast over you, “What do you think Y/n?”

You tilted your head curiously as he swept his hair from his eyes to get a better look at you, “Pardon?” You asked unsure of what he had meant as you were still focusing on what had just happened. You couldn’t even say a word to Taehyung before he had been abruptly dismissed by your master.

Jungkook allowed a small smile to pull on his lips, finding your puppy like confusion sweet as he replied endearingly, “Incúrsio, what do you think? About the demon’s curses.” You curved a brow before giving a small shrug. You never thought incredibly hard on it, and it was mainly an old folktale told by the maids during work to make conversation.

“Well,” You paused, licking your lips as your eyes squinted on the table in thought, “I’m not sure your Highness, I’ve never traveled outside the city before so I’ve never been to Incúrsio. But if something as powerful as a demon would plague it’s village, I think the better question to ask is why. Do you think a demon plagues their village?”

Surely a demon wouldn’t have need for a virgin girl let alone barbarically feast on her. You lived and shared the world with Vampires, Werewolves and Ghouls alike, if a demon were to exist- and you were sure they did, you wanted to imagine they weren’t as monstrous as humans like to make them out to be.

Jungkook let a smile quirk on his lips at your question as he hummed, “Perhaps, I’m a believer in oddities. I wouldn’t be surprised if a demon did plague them. We’ll have to visit for ourselves one day I suppose.” You glanced away from him at his words, visit? Together? You knew it was meant as himself and you travel to accompany him. But you couldn’t help but wonder if it’s overtones had meant to sound like traveling together, as a couple.

“I’d rather not,” You settled for answering truthfully before humming, letting your fingertips tracing against the beautiful dark oak table, “...That’s where I was close to found…” You murmured more to yourself then him, after a second you finally registered the silence before looking up to see Jungkook staring at you intently, his full attention on you keenly as if taking in your every word.

Flustered you cleared your throat with a sheepish smile, “I...I’m sorry- It’s just...I never knew my parents, the guards on rotation from Incúrsio found me not too far off it’s road, they said it looked like a bandit raid from a carriage but there wasn’t any death followed. Just abandoned and broken and me left there…”

You felt your cheeks burn as your stare on the table hardened and you tried your best to smile but it felt more like a grimace. Defeatedly you let your lips drop before swallowing down your old emotions. You couldn’t help but wonder what had happened, did your family leave you behind? Or had they been taken? Were they still out there, looking for you?

You jumped at the feeling of two large hands cupping your face, having not realized Jungkook had stood up from his seat, now standing in front of you as he gently lifted your gaze to meet his, “Never apologize for what you cannot change.” His words were sweet and gentle as he whispered them, the cold nip of his hands sending a pleasant shiver down your spine and goosebumps along your skin as you could help but let your eyes fall shut.

Unconsciously leaning into his touch as he soothingly stroked along the warm skin of your face, thumbs padding along your cheekbones as he calmed your nerves, “Don’t you wish for closure? You might find it there if you went.” He murmured delicately, his grasp on your face never leaving as he continued to let one hand stroke down to your jaw, making you preen closer for his affection, not aware of the gentle smile pulling on his lips at the sight.

At his words you eventually sighed, letting your eyes open again making a frown pull on his lips mirroring your own at the dejected, formal tone taking over your expression once more, “I was found on the road to Incúrsio, not at the actual village,” You pulled away from his grip as you wrapped your arms around yourself, looking at him a little more guarded than before as his expression crumbled slightly at your defensive stance, “Going there would be nothing but a bitter reminder of that. If you don’t have any other need for me I’ll see myself to help in the dining room.”

Jungkook turned around to hide the hurt in his eyes and the ache in his heart as he walked to the large window overlooking the courtyard, “Yes that’s all I needed Y/n, you may go.” You lingered for a second, glancing at his regal figure that peered out into the evening sky before turning around.

Your heart begging you to stay, but your head forced you out the door. It would never work out anyways. There was no need to stay behind and entertain the idea...though you’d admit, it was getting more difficult with each day.

It was like it was any other morning, you were tired and you were sure it was cast over your features after yet another long and painful night, thoughts surrounding the Prince in less than decent ways as you struggled to not submit to the crave of your body he had power over even when he wasn’t present.

You had been pledged to the Sisterhoods monastery like most of the human maid’s since you were a child, one of the vows you’d be taking was to submit from all physical desire, you wouldn’t take that vow until spring but you had been taught from a young age by the nun’s that it was a lifelong practice for a fellow sister.

You wanted to try your best to maintain purity and to abstain from any sort of physical pleasure but the Prince was making it more and more difficult by the day. It was so cruel, he could have any woman he wanted, even if he didn’t have a choice, he could easily take whoever he pleased. All you had was this one option, you couldn’t ruin it for yourself.

Your feet were beginning to ache and they took you out of your thoughts as you finished dusting around the office. Jungkook had just finishing signing off a seal of approval to one of the outer villages, guaranteeing they’d have shelter from the harsh weather to come when he spoke, “Y/n.”

You paused, glancing around as you rose your brows in acknowledgement, “When do you pledge?” You had expected him to request for you to bring him something.

Having him ask not only a question but a personal one made your lips parted, “Less than a year,” You murmured, turning your focus back on the bookshelf as you wiped it down once more to try and make yourself look busy, “I’ll take my oath come spring.”

“And will you live in the monastery?” Jungkook’s voice was level and you couldn’t read his tone nor figure out why he had suddenly decided to ask. Pausing once more you debated your options. Was there a particular reason he asked? Or was it to just make small talk? He often did so with you on quiet days such as these when he spent them mainly in his office.

“Yes, sisters are expected to live there.” You answered, your back still turned from him. Perhaps for the best, he was already aware of your pledge and yet that never stopped either of you most days in getting caught up with one another, even if it was less than a glance. You didn’t necessarily want to move away from the castle, but this was for the best now.

Your feelings for Jungkook would only blossom with time and you knew they would become nothing but wilted and crumbled when he married and raised his own family. You weren’t sure you could be here to witness that, let alone be by his side as his personal maid in the process.

“I see…” He replied, his voice still unreadable, you were never disciplined enough to stay away from his gaze for so long, forcing you to turn around as you glanced at his seated figure across the room, it was silent for another steady breath, those dark maroon eyes burning into yours were worth more than a thousand words, “A pity,” He finally resigned, forcing his gaze to drop to the letter in front of him, “You’d make such a lovely wife for a man lucky enough.”

Your grip on your rag tightened at his words and you struggled to keep your face neutral as the scowl threatened to twist onto your lips. Why did he always say such things? It was already hard enough having to rein in your desires.

Having him force more ideas into your head, one where you were his wife, it was beginning to become more painful with each day, “All pretty things wilt in time, I’m not any different. I doubt I’d find a single human male in a kingdom of vampires.”

Your future really was bleak when you lived with almost near immortal beings, you turned back to the bookshelf feeling his gaze burn dark on you, and you could almost see his lips part in defense before snapping shut, as if knowing he had no say regardless, “Don’t say that.”

“What?” You looked over your shoulder back at him only to find him standing up from his seat making you sheepishly look ahead once more. You could hear the soft padding of his feet as they traveled across the room and your heart rate had spiked once more as he answered, “That you’ll die.”

You could feel the sudden tension in the room spike as silence filled the room, your movements paused but you didn’t dare turn around to face him, the sudden need to relieve the stiffness in the air as you spoke, “It’s true your Highness,” You meekly turned to face him before offering a small smile, “I’ll be rolling in my grave before your 500th birthday.”

That was apparently a big turning point in every Vampire’s life, for what? You weren’t sure, they were always so keen to keep their secrets among themselves, “All humans share the same fate in the end, that’s just life.”

Jungkook stood in front of you now, forcing you to crane your head to look at him, his eyes were hooded and dark, your joke not being taken as such forcing his maroon eyes to dim further as the frown forced its way onto his lips, “Not if you were turned,” His voice low and a slight husk making your thighs squeeze together involuntarily.

His words made a small breath escape your lips before you scolded, unable to hide your expression anymore from him as you glared towards the ground, “Don’t say something so ridiculous.”

Humans who were turned into a vampire were often bound to their creator for life and furthermore turned were never truly needed outside of procreation purposes. Born female vampires were not fertile leaving the males to mate with turned or humans alike. It was why Jungkook would not only have a wife, a full blooded royal vampire, but also a lady in waiting turned to have his children, which you would be neither, “I doubt anyone would be willing to sponsor me turning.”

Your blood practically boiled at his words as you whirled around, unable to even look at him anymore. You had accepted your life long ago, being human. There was nothing you could do about it. And you’d be open to talking about all sorts of possibilities if it were anyone but Jungkook opening the discussion.

“I would.” You almost jumped out of your skin at the arms that suddenly coiled around you, your back pressing firmly into his chest and you could vividly watch the walls you had built so high, so desperately to keep him away just crumble at being in his cold grip, those soft ice cold lips brushing against your ear with a murmur, the beat of his own heart- off rhythm from that of a human.

Your body was stiff at first but it was difficult to not relax in his grip, he felt so safe, it felt like this was meant to be. As if his arms were always meant to be wrapped around you.

“But you can’t.” Three words, it was all you spoke; for the first time in four months. You supposed it was time for this conversation with him, the one you thought for sure you both silently knew should never take place. And yet here you were, uttering them anyways. You always understood them, but they felt bitter on your lips and the pain flushed in your chest at having to admit to it.

His arms wrapped tighter around you as if speaking silent defiance, his hair tickling your shoulder and his nose dragging against your neck as if to replace his teeth, “Take off your choker.” Your body shuddered at his words, his hands pulling to the sides of your waist as he began to pet down the sides of your body making you instantly shift closer your head leaning back against him.

Your hands were shaky but they obediently went to your neck, fumbling as you went to take off your choker. Timely interruptions were always made though as a knock sounded on the door making you almost jump out of his grip. Jungkook inhaled sharply, annoyance flooding through his body as the voice called through the door, “Your Highness the court seeks audience with the king, it was requested that you be present.”

“I will be out in a moment.” Jungkook answered, his forehead pressed against your neck before letting his lips chastely kiss against it’s skin before murmuring, “I expect you in my room tonight, I will see you then, my love.” Your heart rate was near airborne as your breath hitched, his love? You were his love? It should’ve made you happy, but all you felt was miserable, a situation like this was always bound to end in either death or heartbreak.

Jungkook let go of you before exiting the room and nothing but the memory of him remained with you, openly you sighed whilst running a hand through your hair feeling lost and unsure of what to do or how to feel anymore.

You had just finished helping in the kitchen, most of your day had been spent there as Jungkook hadn’t required your assistance the rest of the day, well it more had to do with him spending most of his day in court listening to whatever was being discussed. This often happened whether it was plans of invading lands, help for the people, anything could be going on in that room. You were rarely needed there and therefore made yourself busy meanwhile.

It was quiet and the kitchen servants had just left to tend to the court ladies afternoon tea leaving you to watch over the simmering soup that had been prepared for the human side of the court.

The room was quiet and you had been left alone with your thoughts, Jungkook’s words still ghosting against your ear. Would you go to visit him tonight? Surely he wasn’t serious, you felt a twinge of worry gnaw inside you, he’d need to feed tonight and you could only hope he wouldn’t be waiting for you to sate his hunger.

“Gotcha!” You nearly screamed at the harsh squeeze on your waist and shouted words, not expecting anyone else in the kitchen before you heard the deep laugh fill the room as the grip on your waist was released, “The look on your face was priceless!”

You whipped around with a glaring scowl as you threatening pointed your spatula at the cheeky Vampire knight, “Taehyung you near scared me into my grave!” he was going to give you a heart attack one of these days, Taehyung not only had been your childhood friend, but a servant at the castle for as long as you as well, you had grown up together side by side.

The only difference was that he had recently become turned at request to become apart of the knights. It was a huge honor for a human and he had been hesitant at first but you had supported the idea one hundred percent and therefore lead him to his undead life.

Undead wasn’t necessarily the right word for it, humans often made up silly folklore for vampires, in which none of half were true. Vampires weren’t necessarily dead- though some could be, most were an entity all on their own with their own heartbeat and almost tar like blood, they were in a sense like werewolves except they were cold blooded in nature making them icy and cold to the touch.

“Like you’d ever sit in your grave for too long,” Taehyung replied as he snatched the spatula away from you, scooping up it’s contents before popping his finger in his mouth. Puckering his lips he hummed, “It’s a little salty.” He gave a boxy smile as you rolled your eyes, “Wish I could enjoy it the way I used too.” His nose wrinkled a little. You couldn’t say you were surprised.

While turned vampires could still eat human food but they could no longer sustain on it the way they used too. The need to feed for blood was now in Taehyung’s transformed genetic makeup now, it didn’t matter how much human food he ate. He would never be satisfied until he fed.

Sighing you grabbed the spatula from him before setting it down on the countertop, “What are you doing here?” You always enjoyed his company, especially now that he was always busy with the knights but he would always spare you every free second he got and given the interruption you had gotten from Jungkook last time you spoke, you’d be more than happy to talk with him now.

Every since he had become turned though, you’d only ever admit to yourself that things weren’t quite the same anymore, that was okay though. You were okay with it, in fact, you were happy for him, to see he had found his own place in the court. He served well as a knight.

“Am I not allowed to visit my favorite girl?” Taehyung questioned though he was well aware of his words as he curved a thick brow with a smile, your cheeks burned as you huffed, looking away from him. You had been well aware of his interest in you for some time now, but with the way things had been going with Jungkook you never had the heart to flirt with him.

Rightfully, you should’ve turned both your interest and affection towards Taehyung, he was far better suited for you and you knew he’d never let you down, not intentionally. His beautiful unnaturally blue eyes staying on your figure and you had his every ounce of attention, if you knew what was good for you, you’d let him have your undivided attention as well.

But Jungkook’s ghosted words whispered in your ear once more, ‘My love’ just the memory had chills running down your spine before you cleared your throat with a cough, feeling your cheeks flush except this time not because of the vampire who stood in front of you, “I’m being serious…” You peered down into the boiling pot with a murmur.

“So am I,” Taehyung replied, his voice softening, forcing you to turn around to face him with a quizzical look, you couldn’t help but feel cautious as he stepped closer to you, taking your hands into his larger ones filled with callouses from his sword training, “I know you aren’t interested in me, but at least let me try to court you. Who knows,” He gave you a boxy grin and a wink, “Maybe I can win your heart.”

Your heart, already belonged to Jungkook. You pushed the thousands of thoughts swarming your mind to the back as you frowned, you could easily say no and you knew he’d respect your wish. But...maybe you should give it a try? Things would never work out with the Prince anyways, and maybe Taehyung was right, maybe he could win your heart, “You really think you can?” You finally murmured softly, glancing up at him as his smile widened, his hands squeezing yours gently as he nodded.

“If you give me the chance,” He leaned his forehead against yours, his skin cold just as any vampire but it still didn’t feel natural to you, not when you had known Taehyung your whole life with deep warm skin now pale as the moon and his once warm brown eyes as blue and lit up as the night sky, “Let me take you out tonight, there’s something I’d love to show you.”

You parted your lips to say yes only to pause. Tonight? You swallowed your words at the memory of Jungkook, he said he was expecting you in his room...Tonight. But...he couldn’t of been serious. Whatever it was he was planning, it was a bad idea regardless. Surely he knew that.

No matter how much he liked you- or you liked him, things would never work. It was time you accept that and at least moved onto someone who you could learn to love. Taehyung had always been handsome as a human, his features had only become more sharp and regal at his turn, you’d be a fool to pass up a chance of life with him. Maybe you wouldn’t have to pledge after all.

“Alright,” You sighed closing your eyes, “What time shall we go?” You could practically feel his smile beaming down at you, his hands excitedly squeezing yours at the chance to prove himself as he hastily kissed your forehead, “9 o’clock in the courtyard, I’ll see you there Y/n.” You could hear another knight teasing him from the hallway as they called his name. With one last smile he exited the room with a spring in his step.

Sighing you felt a drop in your stomach, you could only hope Jungkook had changed his mind at such a silly notion and would go about his regular feeding. Rubbing the spot where Taehyung kissed your forehead you finally allowed a small smile to pull on your lips. Maybe life shared with him wouldn’t be a totally bad idea.

It was nearing time to go and you could feel the anxiousness build in you as you laced your bodice, would Jungkook be okay? Would he be able to feed throughout the night as he normally did. Hungry Vampire’s never bode over well and for him to be a royal. You sighed, forcing your thoughts and concerns for him to the back of your mind as you pulled the thick red cloak over your shoulders and pulling up the hood.

Stepping out of your room you made your way down the hall, stopping briefly at the thought. Surely it wasn’t too late, he’d most likely be on his bed, sitting patiently for your arrival as you had cleaned his room early that day.

His eyes would be near blood red by now, and his hunger beginning to set in...you felt your knees beginning to weaken at the idea before you shook your head. No, he’d already be on top on Minsoo by now, drinking from her and sating all of his needs. He didn’t need you.

The guard nodded to you while opening the large door of the caste, allowing you to slip out before seeing the familiar dark head of hair peering out at the moonlight, Taehyung looked so serene since his turn, he had naturally become more nocturnal by nature and the moon suited his pale skin almost making him glow. He looked ethereal.

Already sensing your presence Taehyung turned around, his own black hood cloak covering his figure and color clashing against yours, smiling he took your hands into his before pressing a quick kiss against your knuckles, “Are you ready?”

“Of course.” You offered a tiny smile as he began to lead you outside the large gates of the castle and down the large brick walkway, everything was so polished and beautiful in the vampire kingdom, they were far more refined than humans could ever be. Or so you had been told most of your life.

You had never been to one of the human lands before and briefly, you couldn’t help but wonder what the difference would be between them. Taehyung had lead you through most of the city that was now vacant most vampires feeding and briefly you glanced towards Taehyung, had he fed early just so he could take you out? You smiled gently at the thought, he truly was too kind for his own good.

“Alright, we're almost there, just close your eyes.” Taehyung looked like he did when he was little, his eyes brimming with excitement and his boxy grin looking almost childlike and all the more enduring as you rolled your eyes with a smile, putting your hands over your eyes as he lead you by the waist down the worn and weaved path of the woods.

You stumbled slightly causing his grip on your waist to tighten a little making your face flush and your heartbeat quicken in your chest. He paused making you stop for a moment before he spoke, “Alright! You can open them now.”

Pulling your hands from your face you parted your lips only for no words to be spoken. Your mouth became agape at the sight of the gorgeous lake, the willow tree’s blowing by the chilled breeze of air and the full moon had lit up the whole lake leaving it sparkling and transforming the moss that clung to its sides like seafoam.

It was beautiful, you had found yourself speaking those words to Taehyung who grinned like a child at your reaction, “I found it during one of my rotations along the south side of the kingdom, I always love to come here to relax after a busy day.” He lead you to a spot before you both sat down in front of the lake, the fireflies dancing just above the water and if you didn’t know any better you’d this was a home to pixies.

“Thank you for giving me a chance Y/n,” Taehyung breathed out gently, leaning into your side as his eyes washed over the scenery, his shoulders relaxed and at peace, “I know you pledge in spring but...I don’t know if I could live with myself if I didn’t at least try to change your mind.”

You fiddled with the hem of your dress, unable to meet his gaze as guilt gnawed in you before sighing, “There isn’t much life for me outside of the sisterhood Taehyung, I don’t want to leave the castle but...what choice do I have? Besides the sisterhood aren’t just nuns, they’re warriors, protectors of the woods. It’s an honor to have them take me in.”

You were true in your words. You had looked up to the sisterhood your whole life, while you’d start as a nun at the monastery for the moon goddess it was so much more than that. They were trained like warriors and fought not only with fury but also grace, you had been training your whole life with them for this pledge.

“Don’t say that, it’s not your only choice…” Taehyung murmured, his eyes becoming more timid as he glanced towards the lake, appearing a little shy which made you perk in slight curiosity, where was he going with this…? “Y/n…” He shifted in his seat before he let his own eyes meet yours, “I brought you here to ask you something, and I don’t expect an answer right away but…” He glanced down at his lap before bringing both of your own hands into his, “If you were given the chance to be turned...would you take it?” He asked meekly.

Your brows shot up immediately at his question before you shifted away from him warily, what was that supposed to mean? Turned vampires themselves couldn’t actually turn humans, only a born vampire was able too, “I…” You faltered in your sentence as your gaze cast down, “I don’t know…”

You were torn between an answer, because you still enjoyed life as a human, even if vampires looked down upon you as a lesser being. Most would say yes at the idea of eternal youth and life on earth for millennia, but you couldn’t help but frown at the idea, didn’t it ever get lonely?

Watching the world around you wither away as you stayed young, whatever human you befriended becoming old and frail in age before eventually going beyond the veil, “Why do you ask?” You finally plucked the courage to glance up at him again a little more weary.

Taehyung shifted once more, his gaze still timid before his eyes fall to your hands that were intertwined, “Ever since I turned I can’t stop thinking about you Y/n,” He confessed with a whisper, “About your morality, your time is so short on this earth it scares me. My master….he...he’d be willing to sponsor your turn- should you ever decide this is the life you’d like to live. I know it isn’t fair of me to spring this on you. And you want to join the sisterhood but, please consider it. For me.”

Your lips parted several times but no words came out. His master would sponsor your turn? You nibbled on your lip before looking away, feeling torn. You weren’t sure if you ever wanted to become a vampire. If you did that meant you’d be tormented all the longer at watching Jungkook grow into the king he had been born to be...Jungkook…

It came like a wave in your chest as you sighed, unable to look him in the eyes as you murmured, “I’ll think about it.” You would not.

Waking up in bed you felt groggy as you shifted, the rays of morning light causing you to squint before sighing, you didn’t remember falling asleep in bed? You had ended up staying most of the night with Taehyung by the lake, your conversation moving to more pleasant topics and you had lost track of time, ending up falling asleep against his shoulder. He must’ve took you back home.

A surge of warmth filled your chest at the notion before you pulled yourself from your bed, changing into your regular work attire as you fixed your choker that had become crooked. After you finished changing you went about your morning routine, waking up a few of the ladies you would help tend to that morning before going to the kitchen to serve those of the human side of the court.

It was nearing eleven when you made your way to Jungkook’s office, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel a little nervous, he’d be on a morning ride no doubt but still being in his space left you anxious. Had he fed last night? Surely he did…Closing the door to his office you sighed in relief at the empty space, you began your usual cleaning routine in hopes you’d finish before he had come in unlike yesterday which lead you to this situation.

Thankfully it didn’t take long to do your usual polishing and dusting before exiting the room, next you would’ve tended to his bedroom- except you were stopped short in the hallway at one of the uppermaids who near begged you to help out with one of the ladies in waiting who was throwing a tantrum about not having enough maids to help her get ready. You never turn down a fellow maids request and therefore made your way to the room.

The day had only became more grueling from there, the lady had almost snapped at your entrance and disregarded the fact that you went out of your way to help and almost immediately began demanding you fix her hair.

Upon her exit from the room you were positive almost all of the maids let out an audible sigh of relief, yourself included, “Could you get her a lavender satchel from the apothecary in town Y/n?” One of the maids asked, her eyes glossy as if she had been trying to hold back her tears from the court lady who had been nothing short of rude to you all, “Please? I must get back to my mistress.”

“Of course,” You smiled gently while nodding as she cried out a thank you. You had afterwards sighed, you’d never tend to the Prince’s requirements at this rate. Going to your room you plucked the red cloak before pulling it over your shoulders and heading for the apothecary shop.

It shouldn’t have been too far of a walk, you had already made your way down the stone walkway and into the busy town. Everyone was as lively as ever, stalls had just opened and the human farmers of the land had just set their produce out for one another.

Stepping inside the shop you couldn’t help but let the brief smile pull on your lips at it’s quaint appearance and warm homey atmosphere, flowers adorned the whole shop inside giving it a beautiful fragrance and vivid color as you glanced around, you had never been somewhere with so much color, it was gorgeous. You stopped short at the pretty wrath hanging from the front desk of the shop, the pretty delicate purple flowers making you lean down, the urge to pluck one just to smell it’s pretty petals.

“Careful,” You jumped at the sound of the voice from behind you, you had whirled around with cheeks slightly flushed at the sight of the girl, no older than you with a large crooked smirk on her face and feline like eyes, long, thick, beautiful lashes fluttering as she glanced up from you from her large round and pointed hat, “Periwinkle is often associated with witchcraft you wouldn’t want to be seen wearing those in your hair.” You felt an odd shiver up your spine at her oddly playful words, timidly you gave a nod and small polite smile in thanks.

“Would you hush and go tend to the herbs!” Another girl had quickly stepped into the room from it’s back door, her sister you assumed as she scolded, quickly walking behind the desk as she gave you a smile, “I’m sorry for my sister, she never knows when to quit.”

You briefly glanced at the sister who only let a mischievous smile pull on her lips before she sent you a wink, exiting out the backdoor her sister had just come through. You felt a surge of oddness come over you, what odd sisters who ran the shop. You quickly gave your note to the shop owner for the order of lavender and she wasted no time pulling it from the other side of the desk.

For as beautiful as their shop was, you couldn’t help but be thankful to step outside of it, bringing the lavender satchel up to your nose only briefly before smiling at such a pleasant smell. You were deft in your return to the castle once more, stopping short in the courtyard as you almost ran into a figure.

The familiar dark head of hair turning around in confusion before beaming at you, “Y/n,” Taehyung instantly took your hand to brush a kiss over your knuckle, “I didn’t expect to see you out here.”

“I had to fetch an order for one of the court ladies,” You held up the satchel with a small smile before feeling your cheeks tinge slightly pink, “Thank you for bringing me home last night…”

Taehyung’s smile softened, his hand squeezing yours before pressing his lips back to your hand, “I’d do it again in a heartbeat.” Your face had become even more flushed at his words. Those unnatural blue eyes that looked so foreign on him compared to those warm brown hues he had when he was a human.

“Y/n,” You almost immediately jumped from Taehyung’s grip at the sharp voice that came from ahead, the sight of Jungkook nearly made your heart drop into your stomach, his expression was neutral but you could tell there was tension in his shoulders, “There you are, you weren’t attending to your regular duties.”

You instantly dropped into a curtsy as Taehyung bowed, “My apologies your Highness, I was sent by a lady in waiting to receive an order for her. I’ll return to my duties.” You could feel his gaze burn into your figure as you kept your gaze from meeting his. As always he was calm and composed, whatever was going through his mind kept secret from you.

“All is forgiven, don’t let me keep you.” Jungkook gave a single nod, his gaze lingering on Taehyung briefly before he turned on his heels and sauntered away leaving you gasping for breath though hoping it didn’t come out as such. Must he always have such an effect on you?

Sighing you watched his broad figure disappear into the castle before turning back to Taehyung with an apologetic smile, “I’m sorry, but I must get back to my duties.” Taehyung nodded understandingly before you bid him farewell and returned to the lady’s room and put the satchel of lavender by her bedside.

Relieved to finally have your offset morning rectified you made your way to the kitchen to help prepare for lunch. Your thoughts lingered on Jungkook the whole afternoon though, you had only seen him once today and out of all times it had to be when you were with Taehyung.

He didn’t seem angry though nor was he crazed by bloodthirst. You couldn’t help but feel relieved by the notion, all had returned to normal it seemed. And though you felt a little dim from the idea you knew it was for the best.

You repeated to yourself once more that it was never meant to be anyways. Nor would it ever work out. You were not only a human but a maid and the whole court had a tendency to snub both of which you fell under. You supposed what you felt must’ve just been seduction from him. Most women would feel that way regardless, the Prince didn’t need his supernatural charm to win people over.

Sighing you set the plate down as you helped served the human ladies in waiting as they all sat at the small table on the terris laughing in delight at one another's conversation. One of these women would be carrying Jungkook’s children one day, the idea almost made you sick. But this was always the harsh reality you faced. That couldn’t ever change.

It was nightfall and you were well aware you had gotten caught up in the day all too fast and had forgotten to clean up Jungkook’s bedroom altogether, sighing you supposed it would be another late day and Kang Minsoo would not be happy to see your presence leaving as she entered.

But unless she wanted to be took on blood stained sheets- the ones which were her fault. Then she’d simply have to deal with it for today.

Gently knocking on the door you waited a moment only for no sound to reply on the other side. Opening the door you noticed the room was empty, it was rather odd given Jungkook was usually retired by now but then again it also wasn’t uncommon for him to work later into the night, vampires didn’t require rest the way humans did after all.

You had instantly began sprucing up the room, cleaning and tidying his things before stripping his bed from it’s sheets, you swallowed a cringed at how rough the bed appeared today. The sheets torn and lewd marks and liquids covered it but there was not a drop of blood to be seen.

You frowned before sighing, pulling them off and into the hamper before setting out a fresh sheet and making the bed, finishing with all of it’s pillows back in place before folding the final blanket- the velvet one you secretly loved. Gently smoothing out it’s edges as you finished your final touches on the room.

“Where were you last night?” You almost jumped out of your skin at the harshly whispered words in your ears, arms tightly coiling around you body as Jungkook growled against your ear, “I waited for hours my love.”

You stiffened at his words before swallowing harshly, guilt instantly biting in your stomach at how hurt his voice was and how the anger quivered in its wake, you should’ve known better then to assume he was fine, “Do you know how vile it is to drink from those women?” His nose brushed roughly against your neck as he growled them out, “I was so frustrated last night when I had her in my bed when all I wanted was you.”

You could feel your lips quiver slightly and the burn between your legs increase as you frowned, staring down at the red velvet before finally murmuring, “You know as well as I do that nothing good would come of this. It was for the best....please let me go.” You weren’t sure if you meant it physically or emotionally.

Your words only made his grip on you tighten as he growled again, fingers digging into the fabric of your bodice and his cold breath against your skin causing goosebumps to form in its path, “I’ll renounce my whole life before I give up my mate.”

Your gasp was stuck in your throat his words his...mate? Mate was used in two terms- one in reference to a bond formed between two vampires, the equivalent of a human marriage, and then mate which referenced before marriage that likened to that of a soulmate. Seldom did a vampire actually come across their mate, and here Jungkook was claiming you were his.

“Please don’t make this harder for me…” You almost pleaded softly, closing your eyes as your hands wrapped around his arms, squeezing tightly as if hoping your grip would make him let go. You could bare plenty in your life, but having him act as if you were mates, you don’t know if you could go on any further with that information.

Jungkook fingers dug further into your skin making you emit a soft whimper, his voice gripped and tone serious as he replied, “You are my mate. I’m only telling you the truth. Why do you think we’re so drawn together.”

Your breath hitched at the feeling of his cold soft lips pressing into your neck, your eyes drawing closed at the soft sensation as his grip released into a gentle hold, his fingers petting down the sides of your body, “You’re the love of my life Y/n, I won’t let you slip away from me. Not now, not ever. You’re mine as I am yours.” He pressed kisses into your neck with each word, “Now let me make you mine. Take it off my love. I’ve craved you for so long. Don’t deny me now.”

He spoke soft ushered words that tickled against your skin. Your resolve had been broken so quickly as your fingers fumbled to your neck undoing the chain before letting it flutter to the ground as Jungkook let his own hands begin to untie your bodice.

Jungkook let his lips part as he grazed his tongue over your skin causing you to shutter, feeling the bodice slip from your shoulders leaving you feeling bare and open in just your slip dress.

His hands tenderly dragging up your stomach until they kneaded against your breasts, “Mmm! Y-your Highness I can’t be your mate…” You were already rubbing your thighs together as heat pooled between your legs.

His tongue left your body void but his grip over your breasts didn’t falter, “But you are my love,” He continued his trail of wet kisses along your neck, “I’ll protect you, I’ll turn you and you will carry my children, be my wife if you’ll only let me.” His hands were already pulling up your dress, suddenly pulling it over your head leaving you bare and your nipples perking to the cold air of the room making a whimper escape you.

The idea had nearly swept you off your feet and your panties clung to your folds in a sticky mess at the feeling of his cold hands running over the open skin of your near naked body.

His hand made its way back down your body before making you gasp at the feeling of his hand pushing underneath your panties, his long slim fingers grazing delicately over your hypersensitive bud, “Oh! Mmm! Y-your Highness.” Your arms finally shot up over your head to dig into his hair as he sucked down against your neck, the wave of pleasure shuttering in your body making you squeeze your thighs tightly together.

“You’ve never even touched yourself have you?” Jungkook murmured with a purr as he let his digits rub back down against the sensitive bud making a new louder whimper fall from your lips, “So sensitive and pure,” Jungkook smiled sweetly into your skin as you pressed against him harder at the feeling of his fingers only moving a hair faster against your clit, “I’ll have to treat my princess well tonight won’t I?”

Your hips embarrassingly bucked into his hand at the intense pleasure tremoring through your body and your need for more rushing through your body, “I-I was taught my whole life to abstain. You’ve made that hellish that past four months.” He chuckled softly against your skin before removing his hand from your panties making you stifle a whined objection.

Jungkook turned you around to finally feast his eyes on your body, your shyness had begun to take over shifting and trying to not cover yourself. It was in one swift motion Jungkook had pushed you onto the bed, pulling your thighs over his shoulders making your face turn bright red.

“Mmm I could tell, I could smell your arousal everytime,” Jungkook let his tongue graze over your inner thigh causing you to squirm with a whimper, “You’re so wet and I haven’t even done anything,” Jungkook almost groaned before letting his tongue press against the fabric separating his tongue and your soft wet folds. You almost strangled out a cry at such a foreign sensation but your body was burning in need for more, “P-please sir-”

Jungkook pulled at the band of your panties before his eyes lidded, “Say my name.” It was a calm demand as he forced his gaze to hold yours while pulling off your panties, you felt flush and exposed, your cunt dripping wet and slick to the touch as your arousal began to slide with a drip.

“J...Jungkook please.” Your voice was soft and pleading, your tone timid as your lips quivered your body ached in such an intense need you could hardly comprehend it. You needed him so badly you were sure you’d step into your grave early if he didn’t take you now.

You watched his lips flick into a wicked smirk changing his whole demeanor as he thumbed against your hipbones, “What a good girl,” He cooed out making you throw your head back with a whine, your cunt aching to be filled as he let his tongue drag against your thigh, purposely ignoring the delicious sight just begging to be ate, “Does my princess want something? Use your words.”

You had arched your back with a whine as he trailed his tongue teasingly closer to your dripping folds, “Jungkook don’t tease me,” your words were begging as you squirmed beneath him, “Please use your tongue, please!” You whined at feeling your pussy almost burn in desire, you needed him so badly.

Jungkook let out an approving hum before leaning down, letting his tongue swipe up a strip of your folds making you almost cry from the odd feeling, his wet tongue mingling with your juices as he inhaled slowly, “You taste just as good as I imagined.”

And in one breath he began given your needy cunt kitten licks while making his way up to your clit. You were a moaning mess as your back cramped from it’s arch and the soft bed beneath you offered no comfort as his tongue slowly dragged against your sensitive bud, “O-ooh Jungkook! Mm!”

You were almost incoherent as you thrashed beneath him your body in near shock at the intense pleasure running through your body. Your hips almost rolling along with his tongue as he dragged it against your clit before hitting a spot that made your vision almost blurry.

Gathering your little clit into his mouth he sucked against it gently, letting his tongue prod along it’s sides while you moaned helplessly beneath him unable to even speak anymore as the orgasm rode through your whole body. Jungkook had allowed his long digits to run along your wet folds as he continued to help you ride your orgasm out before pushing a finger inside you.

Pain instantly shot through you as you whimpered trying to pull away on first reaction, “Shhh,” Jungkook cooed out lovingly, pressing a little kiss against your thigh as he pulled out, gathering more of your wetness along his finger before pushing back into your entrance with ease, “Just relax love, it won’t hurt for much longer.” Your thighs were already shaking but you attempted to do as you were told. Whimpering slightly at the feeling of his digit pushing further inside you before pumping slowly.

Your arousal was messy and undoubtedly dripping on the bed by now as it continued to produce from your entrance, his gentle pumping picked up a little at the sight of your hips beginning to roll in sync, “Does it feel good darling?” Jungkook cooed, his tongue dragging back down your thigh again as you whimpered with a nod, causing the smirk to break back onto his lips, “Such a good girl for me, you look so pretty right now Y/n.”

He watched in almost blind pleasure at the way your hips bucked into his hand at his words and the way your velvety wet walls clenched around his single digit as you whined, “Someone loves being a good girl? Don’t you?” His smirk widened at your nod, your neck stretching out and head turning as if just offering yourself for taking as your hips quickly rode against his finger. Jungkook slowly pushed in his next digit, your little whimper like music to his ears as you stretched to accommodate him.

It was slightly uncomfortable at first but your hips refused to stop riding his fingers, the stretch not comparing to the feeling of the pads of his fingertips grazing against the walls of your needy pussy, “Do you want your second release?” Jungkook asked with a purr making you choke out a whimper as you nodded.

He instantly let his fingers curl inside you making you clench around him with a moan at the unexpected new sensation, pleasure shooting through you as you whimper, “A-ah! Jungkook, right there!” You whined your thighs clamping around him harshly, those silky long locks of hair tickling against your skin as his fingers dug into your g-spot.

“Mmm, you sound so pretty when you moan like that sweetheart,” Jungkook murmured, his hand pumping into you quicker making sure you were nothing short of a whining, moaning mess as you clenched around him harshly, body so sensitive as you bucked into him, “Cum for me princess.”

Obediently your walls clenched around him harshly as he hit your g-spot one last time, your body curling and aching as your second orgasm washed over you and your cunt needily sucking his fingers into you further as you moaned far louder than you ever wanted too.

Just at the peak of your pleasure you felt a sharp sting in your thigh before the pleasure in you almost twisted and snapped even harsher making your head fall back with close to a scream leaving your lips.

Jungkook’s eyes were bright blood red before fluttering them shut as he bit into your inner thigh, your blood sweet and light nearly making him dizzy headed. Euphoria nearly achieved as your hips rode against his fingers, letting them hit into your g-spot skillfully making your next orgasm arrive closer.

“J-Jungkook I’m- I’m..!” Your voice was cracked and another whimper fell from your lips as his thumb suddenly dragged up to your clit as your hips continued to move with his fingers.

Rubbing friction between both spots had you coming again as you moaned brokenly, nearly sobbing at the pleasure and sensitivity your body was under as you rapidly clenched and released around his fingers, a weird sensation bubbling inside you making you swallow and whimper before liquid came spewing from your abused little hole.

You were hazy and you could feel the wave of embarrassment but it didn’t quite reach you due to the pleasure your body was swimming in. Jungkook pulled away from your thighs, his usual maroon color burning blood red and color was flushed in his face making him more human than he’d ever be, his hair now wet and the haughty smirk coiled on his face grounding you back to what had just happened as your lips parted several times, “I...did I..?”

Jungkook released your thighs from his grip as he set you down, kissing along your stomach as he replied, “You squirted princess, and you looked fucking hot while doing it.” Your mouth went dry at his vulgarity but your body was relit at his words despite your thighs snapping shut. Jungkook had pulled away before unbuttoning his shirt leaving you almost swallowing your soft whine at the sight of his chiseled upper body on display.

It was when he let his pants drop that your lips quivered into a pout at the large cock that sprang from it laying towards his abdominal. His shaft was thick and curved slightly with a vein protruding, leaving you with the strong urge to touch it as precum oozed from his large bulbous head as he licked his lips, “Don’t worry my love,”

He lunged down, caging you between his arms as his lips sucking against your neck, “It’ll fit. It may be uncomfortable at first so tell me to stop if it hurts.” He peppered little kisses into the crook of your neck before parting your legs and slotting himself between them, grasping his cock as he pumped himself a few times while letting out a breathy moan.

You shifted slightly against him with a shaky breath yourself only to flutter your eyes shut at the feeling of his head running along your sticky slit, letting it drag in circles over your already sensitive clit as you bit back a cry.

Jungkook continued to let his shaft run along your folds covering himself in your arousal before lining his hips up with yours, with ease he began to push his tip inside you causing you to whimper from the uncomfortable stretch. Jungkook buried into your neck as he paused his movements pressing a little kiss against your skin before easing himself in further with a soft relieved sigh.

“Y-you’re so big.” You whimpered, your body clenched around his size as he gently pushed his shaft further inside you. You could feel his cock throb slightly at your words and his lips parted against your neck before sucking it’s skin.

“You feel so good princess,” Jungkook finally released a moan, forcing himself to stop at the sound of your whimper now taking his whole cock inside you like the big girl he knew you were, “I’ve loved you for so long now, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted you.”

He kept kissing your neck, not only was he in physical euphoria, but he was also in emotional as well, finally having you in his arms after all these years, always having to pretend as if he didn’t see you among the crowd of servants, how long he ached for your touch, “How much I need you.”

Your body shuddered at his words as he began to pull himself out of you and rolling his hips gently into you again, letting out a soft moan your walls began to relax and stretch comfortably around him, “I- I love you too.” You finally said those dreaded, damn words you had worked so hard to never think of, Jungkook had made them so easy to say as he thrusted back into you deeply, his thick shaft running along your g-spot making you moan as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

Jungkook instantly let his fangs run along your neck as his hips suddenly snapped into yours making you whimper at the rough sensation as your legs shakily wrapped around his waist, “Mmm, my beautiful mate,” Jungkook’s voice was filled with pride and lust as he let his hips take over, thrusting into you at whatever speed they pleased as you whimpered.

Clenching around him as he continuously dragged along your g-spot, his pubic bone rubbing into your clit as you moaned, hands tangling into those long silky locks you imagined doing so many nights spent alone, “Where did you go last night?” He suddenly demanded, his tone stern and hissing in possessiveness, “Was it with that little knight that wouldn’t keep his hands away from you.”

His voice snapped as much as his hips, you couldn’t even form a full sentence as his thumb suddenly reached down to rub harshly over your abused little clit, “You’re mine. Mine.” He hissed with venom, “Mine to hold, mine to love, mine to fuck. Mine.” He emphasized every word with each punctuated thrust that had you rapidly clenching around him as he roughly rubbed circles around your hypersensitive nub.

You were coming for the fourth time in seconds as you clenched around him harshly, eyes watering from how sensitive you became as the pain smoothly mixed with the pleasure he put your body under, “Say it.” He snapped, lips lunging down before he let his fangs sink into your skin making you cry a whimper as your euphoria clouded your vision and your orgasm magnified once more, his release stringing deep inside you as his own orgasm took over his body.

‘I-I’m yours! I’m only yours Jungkook. I only belong to you.” You whimpered feeling his body relax and your head become lighter as he drank slowly and with ease as his hips slowly followed suit until he pulled his softening cock out of you. Cum dripping between your legs and a sheen of sweat covered both of you.

His fangs dug into your skin and his thumbs rubbed gently against your thighs as he took his time, enjoying the only blood that could ever sate his appetite, his emptiness and loneliness.

Your eyes were becoming heavy with a need for sleep as Jungkook continued his feeding, careful to not overindulge or drink too fast. Your body felt complete, and whole, safe with him hovering on top of you protectively.

Slowly you let your eyes droop before allowing yourself to fall into a restful sleep.

Waking up your vision was blurred and your body nipped with a chill as you shifted, a little confused at first, you never had this much sunlight in your bedroom...Your eyes suddenly shot open when you remembered it was because you weren’t in your bedroom. Instead you were in the only bedroom you had become so acquainted with outside your own.

Jungkook’s arms were wrapped around you and your back was pressed snug into his chest, his locks of hair tickling against your cheek as he nuzzled into the crook of your neck, pressing a sleepy kiss into his bite mark making you wince from the afterpain.

You allowed yourself a few minutes to enjoy the silence of the room, the love of your life holding you in his arms with no objections or misleading words to shoo you from his room, it was perfect. You could wake up like this every day if you could...If you could…”Jungkook.” You finally murmured softly.

“Hm?” He hummed out, his voice groggy and his eyes still snapped shut, perhaps still half asleep and not even fully conscious of his voice.

Shifting slightly you let your fingers trace against the cold skin of his hand that had begun to stroke your stomach gently, “What’s going to happen now? If anyone finds out you bit me…”

Your lips quivered at so many thoughts crashing into your mind, what of the sisterhood? Your only solace now took from you. What about Taehyung and his love for you now fully unrequited. What was going to happen to you?

“If they find out they’ll answer to me my love,” His voice was deeper than usual, ridden with sleep as he shifted against you, not particularly worried as he lovingly stroked your soft skin, adoring the gentle beat of your heart as he let his nose rub along the sweet love bite tainting your pure skin, “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Turning around to face him you, for the first time in all your life you let full happiness flood every fiber of your being, a beautiful smile Jungkook would forever cherish sight of staining your lips before pressing a sweet, chaste kiss against his lips.

Letting his nose rub against yours before gently stroking your hair and tucking you away into his chest, “Now go back to sleep, my love, all will be taken care of.”

#bts #bts x reader #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader smut #vampire!jungkook #prince!jungkook #bts vampire #bts vampire au #jungkook smut

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i-am-not-a-who-i-am-a-what · 4 years ago

Text

there was a moment from yesterday’s episode that set off so many alarm bells in my head and i haven’t seen anyone talking about it yet so i’m going to get my thoughts out there. i’m putting the majority of this post under a readmore bc it got very long thanks to all the transcript quotes i pulled but i really want to know what everyone else thinks about the Implications™

BASIRA

Okay. So… what do we know about Hill Top Road?

ARCHIVIST

Not much.

BASIRA

Another blind spot?

ARCHIVIST

No, it’s – I could look at it, but it… it was… it was like a… a hole. You know that feeling you get when you look down from a, a great height, like you’re being pulled into the abyss?

BASIRA

Kind of?

ARCHIVIST

[Getting lost in thought] Well it was… was like that. Normally I can see it, see the… webs, and feel the power of The Spider emanating from it, but… as I would look… it’s like my mind…. follows the paths of The Web,

[STATIC RISES]

the strands going down and… out… [Catching self] It’s quite disorientating.

[STATIC FADES]

my first thought after hearing this exchange was “huh, that sounds eerily similar to the description of the table the not-them was trapped in.” here it is from mag 3 - across the street:

I’d become enraptured by the table on which he’d placed my tea. It was an ornate wooden thing, with a snaking pattern of lines weaving their way around towards the centre. The pattern was hypnotic and shifted as I watched it, like an optical illusion. I found my eyes following the lines towards the middle of the table, where there was nothing but a small square hole.

my first instinct was that this was some foreshadowing for jon meeting some kind of horrible fate, because well... remember what happened the last time someone got mesmerized by the table?

SASHA

Oh, hey. I��ve found… I’ve found that table you were talking about. Don’t really see what all the fuss is about. Just a… basic… optical illusion. Nothing special… just… just a… wait…

[Hushed and panicked] Jon! Jon, I think there’s someone here. Hello? I see you. Show yourself!

but then i started thinking more about why the table specifically would be referenced, and i remembered the earliest we see it used as artifact of the web, and where: with raymond fielding in hill top road in mag 59 - recluse:

On Sunday evenings, however, we’d all gather for the evening meal, and before we sat down to eat, he would remove the bright white tablecloth that covered it, and we’d gather around the dark wood. I remember it was carved in all sorts of strange swirling designs and patterns. It felt like if you picked a line, any line, you could follow it through to the center, to some deep truth, if only your eye could keep track of the strands that had caught it.

it was while i was checking the transcripts to find the above quote that i also remembered the hole in center of the table that the web pattern leads towards wasn’t always empty - it used to contain a box, and that box contained an apple.

again from again from mag 59:

The center of the table looked, at first, like it was simply part of the wooden top, but if you looked closely, as I did so often, you could see an outline marking the very middle as a small, square box, carved with patterns just like the ones that laced their way over the rest of the table. I don’t remember how long we sat around the table those evenings, nor do I have any memory of what we might have eaten.

...

I reached over and pulled the wooden square from the center of the table. On its own, it appeared to be a small wooden box, and the lid opened smoothly, as my hands moved in a practiced motion. Inside was an apple, green and fresh and still wet with morning dew.

I knew I was going to eat it. I could feel tears desperately trying to push themselves out of my eyes, but I instead decided not to cry. I placed the box down on the table, reached over, and picked up the apple.

the box from the center of the table makes its first appearance in the very first hill top road statement, mag 8 - burned out, where we learn that apparently the apple was full of spiders.

considering the web’s predilection for filling it’s victim’s bodies with spiders (carlos vittery, annabell cane, the spider husks trevor encountered, the victim of the chelicerae website, the old woman in annabell’s statement, francis, etc.) i think this goes a ways to explain what happened to raymond’s other victims, and what would have happened to mag 59′s statement giver if he’d bitten into the apple:

They lay still now, wrapped in their sticky cocoons. Their bodies seemed warped and bloated in a way I didn’t recognize. But that’s only because at that point in my life, I had never before seen a spider egg sac.

more importantly though, we also learn that the box was buried under the burnt up tree in hill top road’s garden, the one whose uprooting was implied to be linked to agnes’s death:

STATEMENT

At that moment I made my decision. It was easy, like destroying this tree was the only thing to do, the only path to follow ... When the tree lay on its side, uprooted and powerless, I gazed into the hole where it had sat and noticed something lying there in the dirt.

Climbing down, I retrieved what turned out to be a small wooden box, about six inches square, with an intricate pattern carved along the outside. Engraved lines covered it, warping and weaving together, making it hard to look away.

...

ARCHIVIST

Except… We cannot prove any connection, but Martin unearthed a report on an Agnes Montague, who was found dead in her Sheffield flat on the evening of November 23rd 2006, the same day Mr. Lensik claims to have uprooted the tree.

and keep in mind that the only reason the statement giver in mag 59 didn’t eat the apple, didn’t succumb to the web... was agnes’s kiss:

As the man in the suit told me to follow him in a clipped BBC accent, Agnes walked over, and gestured for me to lean down and listen to her. I did so, but instead of a conspiratorial whisper, she just gave me a quick kiss on the cheek, then ran off down the hall.

...

All at once, my cheek erupted in pain. It was like someone had pressed a hot branding iron into my face, and I could swear that I heard the flesh sizzle as I let out a scream and fell to my knees. I raised my hands to my face and realized in that moment two very important things. The first is that my face seemed to be untouched; I could feel no injury or burn. The second was that raising my hand had been a truly voluntary act. I had willed it myself, and whatever power had been gripping me, tugging me into its web, I was free of it.

at this point you’re probably wondering why i think all this is relevant in terms of what might happen with hill top road, and i have two potential ideas:

my first idea has to do with the theory that agnes is lingering on as a ghost. this theory isn’t mine, i first encountered it shortly after mag 167 - curiosity aired through this post’s attempt to fix what bits of the timeline were thrown out of wack by the new info. if anyone has any other posts or general thoughts about this theory feel free to share them, i’d love to read them!

this theory is relevant to my speculation that agnes might finally make an appearance because she might have been the ghost seen by one of the statement givers in mag 100 - i guess you had to be there:

MARTIN

Right. Right.

[THROAT CLEARING]

Statement of Lynne Hammond, er, recorded 2nd of May 2017, regarding…

Uh, what, what’s this one about?

LYNNE

I saw a ghost.

MARTIN

O-kay.. Regarding a… a ghost. Statement begins.

who appeared as one of the cultists in mag 190 - scavengers:

MARTIN

[Puzzled] Celia?

CELIA

Probably. The, um… place I was trapped in, they took my name. I never got it back. But I like Celia, so… yeah! Celia it is.

MARTIN

Uh… H-Hello… Celia.

and was recognized and directly confirmed to be the same person by martin in mag 191 - what we lose:

MARTIN

…

Hey, I meant to ask. Do you recognise that woman, Celia?

ARCHIVIST

Um… no, I, I don’t think so. Why?

MARTIN

I’d swear she gave a statement once.

having her only pop up in mag 190 would have just been a fun easter egg, but having martin directly call out her presence the next episode sounds to me like jonny telling the audience to pay attention, to remember that her statement had to do with the ghost of a young woman on fire who might have been agnes.

my second idea involves web lighter.

over various statements throughout the previous four seasons we’ve been shown that the web and the desolation have been at war, and hill top road has been their battlefield. the best examples of this come from mag 139 - chosen and mag 149 - infectious doubts respectively.

on the one hand we have agnes being planted in hill top road by the cult of the lightless flame in an effort to both control her powers and derail the web’s plans, which seems to begin the conflict:

The compromise we came to was Hill Top Road. We knew it was a stronghold of the Web, full of other children Agnes’ age. We would supervise from a distance, but were confident she would be in no danger. The Mother of Puppets has always suffered at our hand; all the manipulation and subtle venom in the world means nothing against a pure and unrestrained force of destruction and ruin.

and on the other we have the web binding gertrude to agnes, thus thwarting the desolation’s ritual, which also involved hill top road:

ARTHUR

Alright. Agnes. How’d you do it? Never did understand it, not really.

GERTRUDE

Ah. That’s a fair enough question. It was the Web. I didn’t know it at the time, of course, and I would call it an accident, but it never is, with them. It’s only after the fact that you can see all the subtle manipulations

...

So, I began researching what I thought was a counter-ritual of sorts. Like I said, I was young, naive. I somehow found just the right books, made just the right connections, and even got what I thought was a piece of blind good luck when I found a tin box in the ashes of Hill Top Road, containing some perfectly preserved cuttings of her hair.

wouldn’t it seem symbolic, fitting with the dream logic we’ve been working with all season (and that the fears have always tended to work with), if what ended the metaphysical war was an artifact touched by both the web and the desolation?

say perhaps... a device that creates fire while being marked by a symbol of the spider? one that just so happened to be delivered to the institute at the same time as a certain table?

TIM

Er, what is it?

ARCHIVIST

A lighter. An old Zippo.

TIM

You smoke?

ARCHIVIST

No. And I don’t allow ignition sources in my archive!

TIM

Okay. Is there anything unusual about it?

ARCHIVIST

Not really. Just a sort of spider web design on the front. Doesn’t mean anything to me. You?

TIM

Ah no. No.

ARCHIVIST

Well… show it to the others, see what they think. You said there was something else as well?

TIM

Oh, ah yes, yeah, it was sent straight to the Artefact Storage, a table of some sort. Ah, looks old. Quite pretty, though. Fascinating design on it.

all signs point to the best hope of escaping whatever plans the web has for jon lying with the desolation, or at least with fire, and who should be waiting in hill top road than someone who’s been known to burn statements in the past... and someone who, as of mag 162 - a cozy cabin, was the last person to mention the lighter:

MARTIN

So, should we destroy it? Before we go?

[THE CABIN CREAKS VERY LOUDLY.]

ARCHIVIST

I honestly don’t know if we can.

[HE SIGHS.]

MARTIN

Mm.

ARCHIVIST

Besides, there’s – far worse out there. Better to try and avoid it, I think.

MARTIN

We’re not even gonna try? Look, we’ve got your lighter; maybe if we just –

i haven’t even begun to touch on the multiple instances of spiral marked individuals interacting with hill top road, or the potential role of the rift leading from the world without the institute to the reality with the institute from mag 114 - cracked foundations, or the foreshadowing we’ve gotten throughout this season that the archive might be destroyed by fire and how it’s looking more and more like that means jon might die, or the significance of the tapes and what power might be behind them...

but it’s nearing five in the morning where i am and i’ve been working on this frankly gargantuan post since about midnight, so i’m going to let more meta-inclined minds take it from here. tell me what you think! where do you agree with me, where do you think i’ve gone astray? hell, tell me if you think i’m just spinning my wheels, this is the first real theory post i’ve ever made so i might be completely off base, at least i tried lol.

tl;dr:

the call back to the imagery surrounding the web table and its long history with hill top road and the desolation is leading me to believe that whatever plans the web has in hill top road for jon, fire is going to have a significant role in whether or not the web gets what it wants; either agnes herself might finally make an appearance or the web lighter might finally come into play.

#tma #the magnus archives #tma spoilers #mag 195 spoilers #sorry if this is incoherent i had it all typed up and formatted nicely and then this hellsite just deleted the whole thing #i'm not usually one to theory craft (tho i have utmost respect for those who are) so i have no idea if i'm just reading too deeply #this is the most pepe silvia ass post i've ever written

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m-y-fandoms · 4 years ago

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Rantarou Amami x Ultimate Writer - FLUFF

Request: Hi! Your writing is incredible ^^ I was wondering if you could write Rantaro with an Ultimate Essay Writer s/o, maybe comforting them when they're up late writing? I hope that's okay, and thank you :D

Hey! Sure I can do this! But, I wanna make it just the Ultimate Writer. I’m an english writing major myself IRL, and I have to write essays, non-fiction, emails, resumes, letters, instructional guides, graphic novels, fiction, poetry etc. so they will definitely have essay-writing skills anyway. Ultimate Writer just makes it easier. I hope you don’t mind :) - Admin Kokichi

"Nnnn!" You gritted your teeth in frustration, "NNNGGHH!" Your arm was stretched to its extent, reaching up with all your might. The shelf above was just out of reach. Your fingertips scraped against the spine of the thick brown book above you, but strain as you might, it wasn’t budging, firm and snug against the others on the shelf. "Gah!" You puffed in anger, clenching your fists. Why did the books you wanted from the basement library always have to be so high up? You needed this particular text as a reference for your next piece.

It was going to be a throwaway letter, a confession written to express your feelings then set them free by burning it later. It didn’t matter, really, what you wrote at this point. Anything to get your mind off of all of… this. In this killing game, your writing was the only thing that brought you comfort. You stayed up every night scrawling until your wrist cramped up. Your Monopad had a notes section to type in, but you much rather stick to the traditional ways. The lack of sleep and endless output of creative thought was starting to weigh on you, and now it looked like you weren’t even getting this damn book today, “Man, this blows…” You sighed deeply. "AH!" You jumped, startled when a large, ring-clad hand suddenly appeared in front of your face, bracelets jangling in your ear. Soon, you felt someone's broad chest against your back. The hand grabbed the book you wanted and brought it down. You turned around with your hand on your chest, still a little jumpy. "Oh, phew… Rantarou, it's just you."

"Yeah,” he chuckled gently, “here ya go Y/N." There stood your crush, the rich playboy with a heart of gold. You felt your cheeks go warm. He was often in the library, and you relished every moment you got to spend glancing over your shoulder at him while we has up to his usual antics of planning traps or researching new ways to interrogate your classmates until someone was spooked into admitting their position as the mastermind. Once in a while, he would read for pleasure, and at first you felt like an asshole for being surprised by that. You judged him too early on, seeing a flawless face and a suave personality and assuming he would be the popular kid archetype you’d seen in many an awful young adult novel. The more you got to know him, the more he revealed himself to be highly intelligent, well-rounded, considerate, empathetic, and extremely attractive.

"Thanks, Rantarou," you looked down, placing the book under your arm.

"No problem… it's not everyday I get to do something useful for someone else here," he rubbed the back of his neck, laughing nervously. You laughed too, looking him up and down.

“That’s not true!” you countered. “You’re always helping us all out. You give great advice, too!”

“Well, I try to help, but I’m sure it hasn’t escaped everyone’s notice that none of my plans have really... taken off,” he gestured, moving his hand in a soaring-upward motion. “Also, with me not rememberin’ my talent and all… I kinda have become the expendable background character, yeah?” His eyes crinkled closed with a kind smile.

He laughed again to fill the silence of the dark, empty library. You giggled. You always thought it was cute how could be so humble, looking the way he did, sounding the way he did. He had been that way ever since you’d met him, and are far as you were concerned, it seemed genuine. You couldn’t really trust anyone in this killing game, but you trusted Rantarou. Even in the library past midnight, where no one would know if you ended up dead, you trusted Rantarou.

"Sorry, I uh, I didn't mean to scare you," he leaned against the bookcase, arms crossed.

"Nah, it's fine. You helped me out, so I forgive you..." You joked, playfully punching his shoulder. He smiled a bit sheepishly, an expression you didn’t see often in the confident male.

"Yeah I… haha," He fiddled with a book nearby," I didn't think anyone would be here. I always come at night. Surprisingly, it's pretty boomin’ here during the day, so I come later on to avoid the hassle of a crowded space." You understood completely. Rantarou was always secretive about his plans.

“I know, I see you here sometimes,” you mused.

“Oh, really? I usually sit behind the back shelves, so I guess i didn’t notice you. You’re pretty quiet, huh? Maybe I should be watchin’ my back for you, huh?” He snickered

"I was having the same thought, isn't that weird?" He looked at you with alarm. “I’m kidding!” To that, he relaxed a bit. "So, watcha reading?"

"Oh, um," He gestured behind him to the aforementioned back shelf "I’m set up back there reading. It's just some old, boring, textbook information on one of the small countries I’ve visited. I thought it'd be interesting, but..."

"Yeah, sounds like it," You looked at him with genuine interest, and he smiled in appreciation.

"Wait, really?!"

"Yeah, why wouldn't it be? I think it’s super cool that you’re well-traveled. I guess that’s why you and Korekiyo get along so well, huh?" His feet shuffled in silent excitement at your shared enthusiasm. He bit his lip playfully, and your eyes grew shiny in admiration. He was so adorable.

He noticed your change in expression and coughed, frowning a little in embarrassment. You tried to change the subject, to make him comfortable again.

"H-hey, Rantarou?"

"Hmm?" He looked up from the ground eagerly.

"You're gonna be up reading all night, right? Well.. I will be, too, and... it’s harder for someone to kill us with four eyes on the lookout..."

"Yeah?"

"So, you wanna maybe sit with me here at my table? The vents reach this side of the library better so it’s a bit warmer... haha, it's... it's kinda cold in here," You pulled your uniform’s turtleneck tighter around yourself, shaking a little. Rantarou immediately accepted. He wasn’t about to pass up an invitation from his crush.

“Hell yeah, sounds great! I’ll go grab my stuff, but, hey, I’ve noticed I hardly ever see you in the dorms… you know you gotta sleep, right?” He had a concerned look on his face, and your heart of course fluttered at his attention to detail and knowledge of your habits, but you didn’t want him worrying about you when he had his own safety to look out for.

“Well, I appreciate the concern, but I’d much rather spend time with you than be in my dorm alone worrying.” He seemed to blush at your words, and you thought you’d maybe gone too far, until he agreed, and rushed over to grab his reading material.

You sighed deeply, a yawn slipping out once or twice. At least two hours had passed since you and Rantarou set up your little corner and there he still sat, in the wooden chair across from yours, never looking up at you from his book. A peaceful, relaxed look glazed his face. He had been that way almost the whole time, but you could sense him becoming a bit antsy. Maybe he was just tired?

You were both fast readers, so by now you had already read the best sections of your own books and switched. He now sat reading the yellowed pages of the book you selected: an eclectic compilation of 16th century romance literature, and you were now five chapters into his text on the different ethnic groups of some far-off land.

“Hmm… heh,” he shook his head amusedly.

“What?” Your head shot up anxiously, fearing he was judging your choice of genre.

“It’s just... some of this is extremely cheesy and cliche. You’d think the old masters would have done a little better.” He lifted the book in a referencing gesture.

“Ah, yes, I noticed that as well. I was hoping for a little inspiration, but… it seems Monokuma isn’t the best curator of quality literature.” He nodded in agreement, seemingly stuck on a thought. You could see him stare into space for a second before continuing.

“Inspiration for what… may I ask?” He pressed, waiting with bated breath for your reply. You felt your feathers start to ruffle, the borders of your comfort zone being invaded by the enemy. You didn’t know if you should answer honestly. The letter was a throwaway for a reason…

“I was going to write a letter…” it slipped out, and you quickly regretted it. Apparently, your brain had decided to take the lead for you. You never recalled yourself being so forward or brave.

“Why do you need sonnets and romance novels to write a letter? Planning to sweet talk Monokuma into freeing us?” He chuckled somewhat teasingly, but his haughty words slowly faded to silence upon noticing the wet shine in your nervous eyes, the way your fingers played with the corner of the book as a distraction for your discomfort.

“No…” You coughed, clearing your throat. Rantarou looked away, running a hand through his green shaggy locks. He knew what the letter was for, of course, who it was for. He was a bit nervous, too, eager to play off the tension in the room with humor, but it wasn’t working. He was wondering why you were so apprehensive, so sullen at his inquiry. You two flirted almost every day… did you seriously need to worry about his reaction? Did you think he didn’t like you back? “I-It’s… well it was going to be a um… a confession of sorts… just to get my feelings down on paper and off my chest. Then I was gonna burn it afterward to set those feelings free!” You smiled weakly, betraying your lack of confidence.

“Nah, you should give it to him- them!” He corrected himself, dropping the most obvious hint he could. You still didn’t look convinced, a bit oblivious.

“Y-you think so?”

“For sure, no doubt. Whoever that letter is meant for,” he leaned in to you, clasping his calloused hands around yours. You felt your heart skip a beat at the contact, and you were left speechless, fearing any words spoken now would come out as idiotic babbling, “they are gonna love it. Trust me.” His eyebrows rose with emphasis, and he shot you one of his iconic, heart-melting smiles.

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hotdadslade · 4 years ago

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DC’s Failed Shared Continuity

This is a subject that I see touched on a lot but not really addressed, so I wanted to break it down.

DC’s core comics (That is, Batman, Superman, Justice League, etc, and not the elseworld style books like DCeased or White Knight) are generally understood to be happening in a shared continuity. That is, what happens in one book reflects in the other. The series cross over, because they take place in the same universe.

Only that isn’t true anymore.

There are a lot of plot holes that don’t really make sense, but that isn’t what I want to talk about. Instead, I want to talk about the fact that DC has absolutely no timeline, the absolute glut of events happening in and out of main books, and the fact that each DC comic is effectively its own universe, rather than shared between it.

I’m going to address the following examples, just to give people an idea of what’s going on and exactly what I mean when I talk about a shared continuity:

The fact that Alfred Pennyworth’s funeral happened before he died.

The fact that Bruce Wayne was in at least three places at once at the start of Perpetua’s invasion.

DC’s insane event schedule through 2019.

The lack of impact events are having with the readers, such as the fact that fact that the entire of South America went to war, China engaged in mass orgies, and the entire of Britain stared at the sky for days on end and almost no reader has heard about it.

City of Bane’s complete lack of impact in the larger DC universe

And last but not least: Why does this matter, and where does DC go from here?

Alfred’s Funeral is before his Death:

Alfred Pennyworth dies during City of Bane. We see his funeral in Pennyworth: R.I.P., where we see the family come together and share stories before immediately getting into a slap fight over it.

This unquestionably happens after City of Bane, because City of Bane is when Alfred died. Despite this, Ric is still around:

That little note in the bottom left makes it clear that this happens before Nightwing Annual #2.

The majority of Annual #2 is a flashback, but it specifically ends with the Court of Owls telling Cobb (that is, Talon) that Dick will soon be his, and telling him to move in. This happens in Nightwing 63, when Cobb shows up (aided by Apex Lex’s gift), and starts screwing with Dick’s life. I’ll skip over the most of it: what matters is that Talon brainwashing Dick Grayson appears the same night Perpetua’s symbol appears over the city (in Nightwing 66 and a number of other issues), Dick attacks the Nightwings, fights Condor Red, and then is freed from the mind control all in one night.

Which is great. Except this can’t happen after Alfred’s death, because the symbol of Perpetua (which appears everywhere at once) appears over Gotham during City of Bane (in Batman 81):

So we have one event happening simultaneously in Nightwing and Batman, only one happens before/during Alfred’s death, and the other supposedly happens well after.

Which leads us into...

Batman apparently can be everywhere at once

So up above we have Batman 81. Bruce is, at this point, in the city rushing to beat Bane when the symbol pops up.

Here’s the symbol popping up in Detective Comics (1014) while fighting the Freezes (the city, I’ll note, is normal Gotham at this point, not controlled by Bane):

Bruce is in Paris (in theory, after his coma) in Outsiders #6, and then arrives back in Gotham just in time for the symbol to appear in the sky in issue 7:

Even just while researching this, I realized that it happened in other issues too. The symbol appears in the sky in Batman/Superman issue 3 while Bruce is being attacked by the infected:

It also happens in Justice League, but I can’t be bothered to get pages.

This is all taking place in a shared universe, so the fact that there’s three or four different Bruce’s in three or four different books who are all doing completely different things in different areas is... baffling. DC has always played a bit fast and lose with Detective Comics and Batman, rarely defining which is happening first or what their exact order of events is, but this takes it a step beyond that.

It also leads into...

DC has how many events? and What happened to the infected?

2019 was a year. Specifically, it was the year of the Villain, but it really should have been year of the event, because DC had so many events happening almost concurrently that it was impossible to figure out what was going on when.

You had Heroes in Crisis running from late September 2018 to May 2019 (acknowledged in Batman, Flash, Green Arrow, Red Hood, and Titans, but largely inconsequential and rarely referenced again).

Year of the Villain itself spanned the whole year, with two dedicated series (YoTV and YoTV: Hell Arisen), a huge Justice League arc (14 issues!), literally dozens of tie in issues in main books, and 8 oneshots focusing on specific villains and their upgrades.

This also tied into The Infected storline, where the Batman who Laughs infected six heroes and sent them out into the universe to torment people. This, too, got a number of oneshots and tie-in issues.

You had Event Leviathan, a six issue series which then got a spinoff and soon a sequel through the second half of 2019, which promised to ‘stretch across the DC universe and touch every character’, which has been, outside of Action Comics (which spun it off), a complete non-entity.

You also had Doomsday Clock, which launched all the way back in 2017 and only finished in late 2019. This was intended to ‘impact the entire DC universe’, with the idea that when the series ended, the rest of the continuity would catch up to it and you’d see the repercussions. It’s effectively been rendered non-canon, taking place outside the universe in a single line in Justice League.

So many things were happening, and they were all stressed as extremely important, but when the chips were down...

Most of them weren’t.

Half the Villain upgrades went away with the blink of an eye (Black Mask hasn’t shown up since his oneshot, and Riddler threw his retirement out in favor of being cRaZy in Batman). Heroes in Crisis had almost no affect. Event Leviathan is waiting on its sequel, having meant almost nothing despite the fact that an entire country was taken over. Doomsday Clock is now effectively out of canon.

Many of these (mostly YOTV itself) lead into the Death Metal event happening now, but that’s the thing: they only lead into that. There’s minimal acknowledgement of those events happening in other books. Even when huge things that should be impossible to ignore happen, they have minimal to no effect on the wider continuity. When is Death Metal happening, in continuity? No idea. What about the infected arc? What about Justice League?

Who knows? DC doesn’t seem to.

Which leads into the finale, the great big ‘are you kidding me’ moment:

Remember that time hundreds of thousands of people died, the whole of South America went to war, and China descended into mass orgies?

No?

Neither does anyone else.

In Wonder Woman issue 50 (and some issues around it), a series of dark gods emerge from (you guessed it) the dark multiverse. Each takes control over a single country, enacting their dark bidding.

(Brief Suicide CW in the description below)

The goddess of war causes the entire of South America to literally go to war, invading and murdering each other. The mob god causes the whole of Britain to walk outside and stare up at the sky, not eating or drinking until they started to drop dead. A god of indulgence causes the entire of China to engage in bacchanalia, which is effectively a frenzied orgy of celebration and dancing. The nameless god has taken over Saint Petersburg, causing those within to commit mass-suicide impulsively.

And of course this has been happening world wide. Tens, if not hundreds of thousands are dead. We see shots of other places - mass murder in the streets of Hong Kong, for example.

We actually see other heroes in this. The whole arc actually starts with Supergirl fighting Diana, and then while she's briefly out of commission, the Justice League (Bruce, Arthur, Barry, J’onn, Victor, and Kendra) show up to help only to get absorbed by the big bad. That’s when the above panel happens, and then even more heroes get thrown at the problem.

In the end, Diana ‘wins’ - by sacrificing her brother Jason to the Dark Gods. The gods return the Justice League, and undo the damage they’ve caused on Earth. Those dead aren’t actually dead, for example. Time gets rewound... partially. We see the Justice League who only partially remember what happened, but the damage around the area is still there.

This should be, by any metric, a huge fucking deal. Literal gods appeared from the multiverse and fucked over huge chunks of the planet. Hundreds of thousands died and then were, in theory, un-killed. The heroes are aware of this, and have at least partial memories.

And yet it’s never acknowledged.

This is supposed to be a huge event. The stakes literally could not be higher, and yet I’ve never seen this arc even acknowledged in any other book. This isn’t even a unique thing, either: all of New York (and most of the world) flooded in Doctor Fate and no one noticed outside that book.

So what about City of Bane?

But by far the most significant example of this is City of Bane itself. City of Bane was a huge event. Some of the top selling issues of 2019 were the City of Bane issues. It received numerous ads in other books, as well as major attention. It was the culmination of Tom King’s entire run, and lasted for more than half a year. It involved Gotham taken over by the titular Bane, ruling it with an iron fist and using mind-controlled villains as his own personal police force. It was a huge, game-changing event.

And outside of the pages of Batman (and Gotham City Monsters), it might as well not have happened. Any time it is acknowledged, it’s in the most awkward and confusing manner possible.

Batman and the Outsiders, Issue 6, Bruce is in Paris, Alfred gets a callout from Ra’s, and calls Bruce home:

Bruce immediately gets on a plane and flies home, landing at the end of issue 7 when the Perpetua symbol goes up.

In issue eight, taking place immediately after, we are lead to believe that the entire City of Bane arc happened in between Bruce flying home from Paris and arriving in time to help:

This is far from the only example. City of Bane tends to be acknowledged exclusively in terms of ‘this issue takes place before City of Bane’ editor notes. The only real thing that gets acknowledged is Alfred’s absence: Detective Comics skips over City of Bane entirely (The YOTV issues taking place before, and then going straight to ‘after), Red Hood and the Outlaws ignores it, and Batgirls acknowledgement is effectively skipping City of Bane itself to go right back to talking about ‘cleaning up the city’ with a one line mention of ‘what Bane did to Gotham’. Plenty of other books either don’t mention it at all, or the mention is so minor I completely missed it.

So why does this matter?

Early on in my time in this fandom, I noted that the more a fan is into DC comics (not the fandom, but specifically the comics), the more they’d hate the comics themselves. This extends beyond what most people on tumblr would consider the ‘fandom space’ - I’m talking reddit, league of comic geeks, comic review sites, etc. The fact is that DC has created a scenario where the more you read their work, the worse it gets. Any individual comic from the examples above reads just fine on its own, but when you read multiple comics you start getting confused about why nothing makes sense. There’s no order to things, no continuity. Things are said in one issue and ignored in the next. Major events are trumpeted as changing the status quo but don’t change a thing. DC is actively pushing away their most dedicated readers, the ones who are going out and buying 5+ issues a week.

So what comes next?

The original reason this all came up was the news that DC’s upper editorial staff had been hit with major layoffs. While nothing yet has been confirmed (this happened only three days ago), the general rumors is that DC is going to be majorly cutting back the number of titles. With Death Metal almost certainly heralding a continuity reboot ala Flashpoint, now is the perfect time for DC to figure out what it’s doing with its continuity, and realistically, they have two options.

Option One: Forsake Shared Continuity.

I’m sure a lot of people would hate this idea, because shared continuity is such an intrinsic part of DC’s history, but looking realistically at sales numbers, there’s some major appeal. There’s far less work to it (important with the loss of their editors), and this isn’t to say all the books will be separate, just that they won’t all be inherently linked. Maybe they keep TEC and JL in the same canon. Maybe Nightwing, Batman, and Batgirl share too. The point is, though, that the fact that Gotham is burning to the ground will no longer reflect on Clark, who is apparently just out of earshot with his thumb up his ass doing nothing.

There’s precedent for this as well. Injustice, DCeased, Criminal Sanity, and White Knight are all stories in their own world that are selling (or have sold) extremely well. DC’s top fifteen issues sold for January to March of this year include seven issues of Batman, one issue of Wonder Woman, one issue of Flash, and then two issues of Unkillables, the Robin 80th oneshot, Strange Adventures (its own continuity), and an issue of Batman: Curse of the White Knight. If you go farther down, it’s more of the same - you have to go through every issue of Curse of the White Knight released, as well as Criminal Sanity, to get to Batman/Superman, Detective Comics, Justice League, and Superman.

I’m not sure this is the best choice, but I can’t imagine it’s not an appealing choice just the same.

Option Two: Fix Shared Continuity.

Without question, DC’s going to be (at least temporarily) paring down the number of books they have, and there’s never been a better time for figuring out what’s going on with their continuity. Less books means less to organize. A reboot and one very determined editor could help establish a baseline to work from, but that would require DC to focus on it as a priority.

I’m sure this is the choice most people will lean for, but it’s definitely the more intensive option, and we can only hope DC decides it’s worth it.

#analysis #dc critical

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bewitching-elizabeth-olsen · 4 years ago

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Press: A Thorough Breakdown of All the Marvel Easter Eggs on WandaVision

POPSUGAR: WandaVision has finally arrived, and it’s chock-full of hidden goodies for Marvel fans to devour! While the series is built upon a mystery that we’ll be spending a reported nine episodes trying to figure out, the smallest details in each episode provide clues on where the show is heading. From supermarket banners to foreboding commercials, viewers have an abundance of references and callbacks to classic comic lore and pivotal MCU moments. Are they setting the stage for a big reveal at the end, or are they just fun details included for fans to enjoy? While we try to figure it all out, scroll through to see what we’ve gathered! And check back every week for an episode-by-episode breakdown as WandaVision progresses.

WandaVision Episode 5 Easter Eggs

Wanda and Vision’s brand new house, suitable for a family of four, is reminiscent of homes in ’80s sitcoms such as Full House and Growing Pains.

When Agnes comes in to offer her babysitting help, she refers to herself as “Auntie Agnes,” which is eerily close to her comic counterpart’s nickname, Auntie Agatha.

An uncomfortable break in conversation leads Agnes to ask Wanda if she wants her to “take it from the top.” Though Wanda appears confused for a moment, she readily smoothes the conversation and carries on. Vision is visibly perturbed, though Wanda attempts to redirect his attention. It seems like the facade is fading all around.

To the surprise of their parents, Tommy and Billy age up five years while the two argue over Agnes’s break in character.

This episode’s opening sequence shows Wanda and Vision growing up, which we know didn’t happen in real life for the synthezoid. The theme song sounds very similar to those from Family Ties and Growing Pains, and consists of lyrics noting that “we’re just making it up as we go along.” Sounds pretty close to how things are going with Wanda and Vision!

When Wanda’s scans come back, they’re inconclusive and show up blank. Considering Monica gains her powers due to bombardment by extradimensional energies in the comics, it’s entirely possible that the blast from Wanda back in episode three, coupled with passing through the forcefield around Westview twice, have given her those abilities. We could be seeing the rise of Photon!

While Jimmy Woo is explaining Wanda’s backstory to the agents of S.W.O.R.D., Director Hayward asks if she’s ever used a “funny nickname” like the other Avengers. She hasn’t, in fact, she’s never been referred to as Scarlet Witch in the MCU ever. Since her powers are different from her comic book counterpart, there’s never been a reason for anyone to call her a witch.

That never-before-seen post credits scene from Infinity War has officially made its debut. Director Hayward reveals footage of Wanda entering S.W.O.R.D. headquarters to steal Vision’s disassembled body. The video harks back to a moment in the comics where Vision was kidnapped and taken apart — but still very much alive. Much like that Vision, the one in Westview has his memory wiped and doesn’t remember anything before he woke up in his new world. So, the question is whether Vision is actually alive or not. Wanda’s hallucination from episode four might suggest he’s a walking corpse, but there’s more to the story.

Jimmy mentions that Wanda’s stealing of Vision’s body violates the Sokovia Accords, which haven’t been mentioned since Captain America: Civil War. Unfunnily enough, the Accords were a direct response to the mission gone wrong in Lagos where Wanda lost control of her powers and caused the death of many civilians.

Darcy mentions that Vision is playing “Father Knows Best in Surburbia,” referencing the ’50s sitcom.

Tommy and Billy find a dog that, with the help of Auntie Agnes, they name Sparky. The Vision family has a dog with that exact name in the King and Walta comics, but he’s green. Sadly, he meets a similar fate as his live-action counterpart.

Wanda blatantly uses her powers in front of Agnes, who has seemingly handled the magic around her with ease. It’s almost as if she’s used to magic.

Darcy calls the Westview anomaly the “hex” because of its hexagonal shape. Although the magic has been taken out of the phrase, Wanda’s powers are known as hexes in the comics.

Jimmy, Monica, and Darcy try to understand how Wanda can revive Vision and control the Hex, which takes much more power than she’s ever displayed before. Monica notes that Wanda has always been powerful, being the only Avenger who was close to taking down Thanos singlehandedly, which Jimmy interjects to note that Captain Marvel could as well. Both are empowered by Infinity Stones, with Carol’s Kree biology giving her a power boost.

When Jimmy brings up Captain Marvel, Monica is visibly uncomfortable and changes the subject back to Wanda. What happened there?

Vision’s office mates learn about the sweet glory that is dial-up internet! But when he and Norm open their first bit of electronic mail, it’s a transmission picked up from S.W.O.R.D. talking about the Maximoff anomaly.

Vision breaks through Norm’s conditioning, revealing that he’s under the control of a woman (alluding to it being Wanda). He directly references his family, a conversation that Jimmy mentioned in his notes in the last episode.

The twins have aged themselves up to 10 by this point and are seemingly completely aware that Wanda has control over certain aspects of life, like time. They point out that it was Saturday when they woke up, but Wanda says it’s now Monday. She apparently changed the day to send Vision to work. Is their awareness because they also have magic or because she doesn’t control them?

Monica sends an ’80s drone into Westview after working out that Wanda’s Hex is rewriting reality to suit each era occurring in the bubble, and the drone would need no era-appropriate change. Though she attempts to speak with Wanda through the drone, Director Hayward commands agents to fire a missile at Wanda instead — directly ignoring that Monica said she doesn’t see Wanda as a danger. The action results in Wanda leaving the Hex and confronting the S.W.O.R.D. agents outside. She’s wearing the suit we last saw her wearing in Infinity War and Endgame and has her accent back, although it’s much thicker than it’s been since Ultron.

Episode five’s commercial is more pointed than any of them have been. Lagos brand paper towels directly reference the city in which Wanda accidentally killed several people in Civil War by blowing up a building. Thus, the Sokovia Accords were born.

While Wanda and the twins are searching for a missing Sparky — with no one calling out the fact that Wanda disappeared for some time — the mailman tells the boys that their mom “won’t let him get far.” It seems almost like a dig at how no one can leave Westview, like the doctor mentioned during episode three.

When Agnes reveals that Sparky died after eating too many azalea bush leaves, the boys ask their mother to reverse his death. Agnes seems particularly surprised by the idea of Wanda having that ability despite having seen other displays of her power and watching the twins age up rapidly twice. Wanda tells the twins that they can’t reverse death as there are still rules to things, which almost seems hypocritical considering her circumstances. Is she trying to say that she hasn’t revived Vision? Or is she simply trying to keep her boys from expecting too much from her?

Later that night, Vision reveals that he unearthed Norm’s repressed memories and demands to know what’s going on. He tells Wanda that she can’t control him, which she cooly responds asking him, “Can’t I?” Although the credits start rolling, their argument continues as Vision unleashes his frustration with not knowing his past and his confusion over their circumstances. Wanda tells him that she doesn’t control everything, saying, “I don’t even know how all of this started.” Vision believes it began subconsciously, but chastises Wanda for letting it get that far. Wanda reiterates that she isn’t controlling everything, which gives weight to the theory that there’s someone else behind the scenes. But who could it be if Wanda isn’t the “she” that Norm was referring to?

Mid-argument, the Vision family doorbell rings, which Wanda states she didn’t do. I’m inclined to believe her because when she opens the door, she is genuinely shocked speechless. At the door is her “brother” Pietro, now sporting the face of Evan Peters. Darcy asks the question we were all thinking as the episode closes, “She recast Pietro!?”

WandaVision Episode 4 Easter Eggs

This episode opens with the heartbreaking reveal that Monica Rambeau was one of the people lost to the Snapture from Infinity War. She returns from Endgame’s Reverse-Snap in a hospital where she had been awaiting news after her mother Maria’s surgery.

As Monica is waking up, we hear familiar voices echoing in her head. It’s Captain Marvel calling her by her childhood nickname, Lieutenant Trouble.

As Monica weaves through the chaos of people reappearing in the hospital post-Reverse-Snap, she finally locates someone who recognizes her. Although Maria survived the surgery five years ago, she died from cancer three years ago in real time, having not been blipped with her daughter.

We finally have some information on S.W.O.R.D.! The acronym stands for Sentient Weapon Observation Response Division, rather than the meaning in Marvel comics, which is Sentient World. It sounds a little more ominous, right?

Maria’s badass legacy continues well past her friendship with Captain Marvel; according to S.WO.R.D.’s acting director, Tyler Hayward, Maria helped build the agency during its inception. She was the acting director until her death.

Tim gives Monica a mission to help out the FBI in the town of WestView, NJ, where something super freaky is going on with a missing person’s case. This confirms that WestView is, indeed, a very real place.

Welcome back, Jimmy Woo! Monica’s FBI contact is none other than Scott Lang’s parole officer and semifriend, Agent Jimmy Woo.

Jimmy reveals that a person in witness protection has somehow dropped off the map in a town that no longer seems to exist where no one recalls anyone who lived there. In an attempt to figure out what’s going on, Monica sends in a S.W.O.R.D. drone that vanishes inside the forcefield. It’s revealed to have transformed into the retro-style helicopter that Wanda picks up in episode two! We can only assume that since it’s an item from the outside world, it gained color when it entered Wanda’s reality to show that it doesn’t belong.

Darcy Lewis is back! Now a doctor in astrophysics, Darcy is called to help figure out what’s gone wrong with WestView. She’s the one who figured out a signal for the broadcast and is the owner of the hand we saw watching Wanda and Vision in episode one.

The mysterious beekeeper from episode two is revealed to be S.W.O.R.D.’s Agent Franklin, who journeyed through Westview’s sewers to investigate. His hazmat suit became a beekeeper’s uniform, and the cable around his waist becomes a jump rope as he travels through the tunnels.

Darcy explains that the sitcom that’s become Wanda and Vision’s life is literally being broadcast through the signals that S.W.O.R.D.’s viewing, with an audience and everything. There’s no explanation for how this is happening, but Darcy and company watched those first three episodes just like we did, credits and all.

Darcy also points out that Vision is supposed to be dead-dead, which leaves his presence in WestView still unexplained.

While Darcy and Jimmy can identity a majority of the neighbors we’ve met in WestView to their real-life counterparts, Dottie and Agnes are the only ones who are missing real information.

It’s revealed that Agent Woo was the voice behind the radio disruption, just as we suspected! But while we can see Wanda and Dottie’s reaction to the call, Darcy’s broadcast didn’t show the same thing. She explains that someone is “censoring” the visuals they’re receiving, which means someone knows they’re watching.

Back in the sitcom WestView, we see that Monica’s slip-up resulted in Wanda blasting her through the house and the energy field. It’s the first time we physically see Wanda using her powers again, so she still has them. But the lapse in her facade has consequences — when Vision returns from his talk with Agnes and Herb outside, Wanda hallucinates him as she last saw him in Infinity War, a corpse with his head crushed in.

It’s important to note that Vision seems to become more aware of the strangeness of their world with each episode. It makes sense because no matter how human he may seem, he’s still a synthezoid who has always been able to see beyond the superficial. It harks back to his “birth” in Age of Ultron. He’s omnipotent and always learning.

When Monica lands back in the real world, all she says is, “It’s all Wanda.” That seemingly serves as an answer to what’s going on in WestView, but it’s not a whole answer. Wanda seems just as confused and unaware as everyone else, but she is willing to stay in her “perfect” world. The question is, who put Wanda in the position to have her perfect world?

WandaVision Episode 3 Easter Eggs

Much like the comics, Wanda magically becomes pregnant! But this time around, things are progressing much more quickly, and her doctor isn’t Dr. Strange.

The first of the episode’s weird glitches happens with Wanda and Vision’s neighbor Herb, who is attempting to saw through the brick fence separating the two houses instead of trimming his hedges. When Vision points out that his aim has gone a bit askew, Herb’s detached reaction is a bit creepy. He thanks Vision but keeps sawing through the wall! And unlike the previous weird behavior, there’s nothing that triggers the moment, especially not from Vision or Wanda.

Wanda and Vision contemplate what to name their baby boy, with Vision suggesting Billy and Wanda throwing out Tommy. (The argument becomes moot when they have twins!) These are the names of the pair’s sons in the comic, who later become members of the Young Avengers. In the show, Wanda chooses her name because it’s “all-American,” which is also a fair indicator of why her perfect reality is framed around sitcoms. Vision cites William Shakespeare as his inspiration and uses a quote from As You Like It that seems pretty on the nose. “All the world’s a stage, and all the men and women merely players” seems like a pointed reference to the fact that WandaVision is, in fact, all a show.

Wanda decorates the nursery using Simser brand paint, which is most likely a nod to Jeremy Simser, a storyboard artist for Marvel Studios and WandaVision.

The second glitch appears when Wanda says the residents of WestView always seem “on the verge of discovering our secret.” Vision has a moment of sobering clarity where he notes that something is wrong in WestView, citing the incidents with Mr. and Mrs. Hart and their neighbor Herb. A second after his says this, reality glitches and the scene starts over with Vision seemingly worry-free. The last time this happened with the beekeeper, it was clear Wanda was the culprit in turning back time, but in this case, she doesn’t seem to do anything to force the change. This suggests someone else is pulling the strings.

Wanda mentions that their child could be human or “synthezoid,” a term that originates in the comics. Although fans like to joke that Vision is an android, he’s technically a synthetic human. He’s not made of metal or machinery — in the comics, his body is composed of the bioengineering tech of Dr. Helen Cho, while in the MCU, he’s made of organic tissue mixed with vibranium and “powered” by the Mind Stone.

Vision jokes that Billy will be just like his mom, which is funny because, in the comics, Billy has magical abilities similar to Wanda’s powers. Tommy ends up having superspeed abilities like his uncle, Pietro.

It’s time for the third commercial! Much like the previous episode’s watch promotion, this break references Hydra — though a tad more directly. It’s all about Hydra Soak, and the message is decidedly more pointed than we’ve had before. “Escape to a world all your own, where your problems float away,” the announcer says. “When you want to get away, but you don’t want to go anywhere: Hydra Soak.” Marvel: Agents of Shield fans will recall that Hydra Soak HAS been mentioned on the show. During the series’s Framework arc, Phil Coulson claims that Hydra is brainwashing people using soap, so he makes his own. Is the commercial another sign that Hydra is behind the mystery of WestView? Is it a warning that no one in the town will be able to get away? And what’s that about finding the goddess within?

The actors in this ad are the same ones as the previous ones, Victoria Blade and Ithamar Enriquez. Their recurring presence might mean they have some significance in Wanda’s life. Maybe they’re her parents?

In what feels like an ominous follow-up to the Hydra Soak commercial, the doctor reveals that he and his wife won’t be taking their trip away after all. “Small towns, you know, so hard to escape,” he mutters, pointedly. I think we’re starting to get the hint, folks! Wanda mentions she is a twin and that her brother was named Pietro. It’s been a hot minute since anyone has talked about MCU’s Quicksilver — he made his debut back in Age of Ultron, the same film in which he was shot and killed.

When Geraldine lets it slip that she knows about Pietro’s death at the hands of Ultron, Wanda interrogates her and discovers her necklace bears a familiar symbol — it’s that damn S.W.O.R.D. logo, and Wanda is apparently not a fan.

In another sign that something is UP, Agnes and Herb seem to warn Vision about Geraldine. They note that she’s “brand new” to town with no family and start to say that “she came here because we’re all —” before they’re cut off. It’s worth noting that the two figures that may be MCU versions of formidable Marvel characters are the ones who seem to understand that strange things are going on in WestView. If Agnes and Herb are the MCU’s Agatha Harkness and High Evolutionary, they would definitely be the ones in the know. But why would they try to warn Vision about Geraldine if WestView is a trap?

Agnes is wearing her infamous brooch as a necklace that could be referencing an MCU supervillain mentioned before. The necklace has three figures close together, with the center figure holding what looks like a giant scythe. Is it another clue that the Grim Reaper is on his way?

Wanda literally throws Geraldine out of town — though she tells Vision that she had to run home — and Geraldine passes through what seems like a magical forcefield. While fans have been assuming WestView is a fake town, this shows us that physically, it’s a very real place. But it’s currently bubbled off with a barrier that Wanda can apparently allow people in and out of. And the song that plays as Geraldine finds herself outside the barrier? “Daydream Believer” by The Monkees. It seems pretty appropriate for a situation that feels like a surreal dream.

When Geraldine lands on the outskirts of real WestView, she’s instantly swarmed by cars and agents all bearing the S.W.O.R.D. logo. Since we know Teyonah Parris is playing the adult Monica Rambeau, it’s safe to assume Geraldine was an alias she used to go undercover in WestView. Combined with the mystery agent watching the show within the show from episode one, we can conclude that Wanda and Vision are being closely observed by S.W.O.R.D. for some reason. But they clearly aren’t the ones in control, since Monica is so easily forced out. What will they do next?

While the opening credits of this episode are a reference to The Brady Bunch, it’s the end credits that give us another clue about the big bad coming our way. Just like the previous episodes, Wanda and Vision are framed in a hexagon as the end credits roll. The symbol is so important because it’s the preferred shape of the creators at Advanced Idea Mechanics, or AIM, who are last seen in Iron Man 3. Remember the beekeeper suits that resemble AIM agents’ clothing? It seems like the evil organization might be making a comeback.

WandaVision Episode 2 Easter Eggs

The opening credits for this episode aren’t just an adorable homage to Bewitched but a whole bevy of Marvel Easter eggs! The illustration of the moon happens to be surrounded by six stars, and we can’t help but be reminded of the Infinity Gauntlet.

When Vision phases through the floor, there’s a dark shape that looks exactly like the helmet worn by Marvel supervillain Grim Reaper hidden in the space. In the comics, he’s the brother of Wonder Man, whose brainwaves were used in Vision’s creation.

When Wanda goes to the supermarket in the opening, three references hang above the aisle! Bova Milk refers to Bova, the humanoid cow who raised Wanda and Pietro on Mount Wundagore. Auntie A’s kitty litter is a witchy reference to Auntie Agatha or Agatha Harkness, whom we’ve discussed before, and her cat-like familiar named Ebony. And Wonder Mints is most definitely a cheeky reference to Wonder Man, aka Simon Williams, the superhero who Vision’s brainwaves are based on in the comics!

When animated Wanda and Vision settle on their couch, the small figure on their side table is a statue of the Whizzer. Featured in 1982’s Vision and the Scarlet Witch, the Whizzer thought he was Wanda’s father but later discovers he was wrong. Whizzer and his wife were offered the chance to adopt Wanda and Pietro when they were kids on the mythical Mount Wundagore, but they declined.

When Wanda hears a crash outside the house, she heads out to the front, where she finds a colorful toy helicopter in an otherwise black-and-white world. Not only does the red-and-yellow helicopter have the number 57 stamped on it, but it also bears the S.W.O.R.D symbol! The number is likely in reference to Vision’s first appearance in Avengers #57, while the symbol hints to the presence of S.W.O.R.D outside Wanda’s perfect world.

The creepy, cult-like refrain spoken by the fundraiser organizers of it all being “for the children” seems to be a reference to Wanda’s involvement in the comic event The Children’s Crusade. The story follows her son, Billy, who’s trying to gain control over his reality-warping abilities by looking for a missing Wanda.

Well, here’s another blast from the angsty past! The Strücker timepiece is a very obvious callback to Hydra and Baron von Strücker. The watch bears the unmistakable octopus skull symbol of Hydra, and Strücker is the Hydra leader who recruited Pietro and Wanda for the experimentation that gave them powers. He was later killed by Ultron in his prison cell. Does anyone else hear that ticking noise? Remember good ol’ Herb? In the comics, a character named Herbert is also the High Evolutionary who runs Mount Wundagore, the very same safe haven where Bova delivered the Maximoff twins. Time will tell if the super-scientist is the same character, but it can’t be a coincidence.

Wanda and Vision’s magic show has two gems that we’ve noticed! First thing, the literal Mind Stone happens to be the design on the doors of the Cabinet of Mystery that plays a huge part in their act. Second, Wanda and Vision use the names Illusion and Glamour for their actor, which are also the names of the magicians that Vision goes to see in an issue of The Vision and the Scarlet Witch.

Though we all enjoy a good jam, The Beach Boys’ “Help Me, Rhonda” gets interrupted by someone asking, “Who’s doing this to you, Wanda?” And doesn’t that voice sound an awful lot like Randall Park’s Jimmy Woo?

While it may seem weird that Wanda shows her pregnancy in an instant, it’s in line with what goes on in the comics. Wanda uses magic to help her have children, which checks out since her husband is a synthezoid.

Oooh, that mysterious beekeeper! Not only does their presence lead to the reveal that Wanda has some control over the reality they’re in, but it also sets off some alarm bells. Even though the beekeeper’s suit bears the S.W.O.R.D logo on the back, the costume is reminiscent of the yellow costumes worn by A.I.M., a military science organization founded by Baron von Strücker. Could this be a sign that Wanda is being watched by more than one organization? And is this a hint that Hydra is back!? (Obviously, it is.)

WandaVision Episode 1 Easter Eggs

When Wanda accidentally smashes a plate into Vision’s head, he jokes about his wife and her “flying saucers,” and she comments back about his “indestructible head.” Considering that Vision died after having the Mind Stone ripped from his head, it’s a dark joke to kick off the series.

Vision’s work tie has a visual reference to his comic-book alter ego! In Tom King and Gabriel Hernandez Walta’s Vision, whenever the character dresses as a human, he wears a tie clip that emulates the diamond pattern on his chest.

Vision’s boss, Mr. Hart, is likely named after comic creator Steve Englehart, who created 1985’s The Vision and the Scarlet Witch with Richard Howell, a miniseries that heavily influenced WandaVision. It’s been heavily implied that Kathryn Hahn’s Agnes is the MCU’s Agatha Harkness, a witch who helped train Wanda’s magic back in the ’70s and ’80s.

When Wanda magically saves dinner, the bottle of wine she pours from is Maison du Mépris, which translates to house of contempt or scorn. As fans have pointed out since the trailer drop, this seems like a reference to the House of M comics storyline in which Wanda bends reality into a new world ruled by her family.

The Stark commercial break refers to two things: Avengers icon Tony Stark and his part in Wanda’s dark past. As Wanda and her twin brother, Pietro, explain in Avengers: Age of Ultron, their parents were killed by an explosive Stark Industries device, leaving the twins trapped under rubble. The Maximoffs were trapped by a Stark Industries shell for two days, expecting it to detonate before they get rescued. Even though Wanda eventually fights beside Tony in the future, there’s still some trauma from that experience and her brother’s death. If it weren’t for the Starks, Wanda could have been a completely different person.

The episode closes with a mysterious observer watching the “show” and taking notes on a pad with the logo of S.W.O.R.D. on the cover. For those who don’t know, S.W.O.R.D stands for Sentient World Observation and Response Department and is a subdivision of S.H.I.E.L.D. It’s a counterterrorism and intelligence agency that deals with extraterrestrial threats to world security. Expect to see them around more.

Press: A Thorough Breakdown of All the Marvel Easter Eggs on WandaVision was originally published on Elizabeth Olsen Source • Your source for everything Elizabeth Olsen

#Elizabeth Olsen #Avengers #Scarlet Witch #Avengers Infinity War #Avengers Age of Ultron #Captain America Civil War #Kodachrome #Ingrid Goes West #Godzilla #Sorry For Your loss

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project-rebirth · 4 years ago

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Beasts and Beings: Angels

Angels are immensely powerful beings with very volatile existences in the Toaru Majutsu no Index universe. They can be beings of either divine origin, such as the Archangels Gabriel and Michael of Christian doctrine, or artificial existences consisting of masses of highly concentrated AIM fields built-up from the thousands of espers within Academy City. Angels of divine origin get their magical power from an energy accumulated in Heaven known as Telesma.

General

Appearances

Angels, both divine and artificial, have been described as possessing halos above their heads and various forms of wings manifesting from their backs, some of which such as the case of Archangel Gabriel can reach several kilometers into the sky, as well as speaking in an Angelic language that sounds like high-pitched gibberish to normal humans.

If deemed necessary, like a command from God, or being forced down from Heaven, an angel can acquire a human form. In the Old Testament of the Holy Bible, Angels hid their identities to enter ordinary people's cities and had meals with them. Indeed, as Gabriel can attest, he can hide his being an angel from humans quite easily.

Personality

Vento of the Front explains that Angels in the magic side have no free will of their own and that they are meant to be God's perfect tools, and are often referred to as messengers of God to humanity. Although, they can malfunction and in turn can be called a Fallen angel, or known as demons. According to Stiyl Magnus, Angels and Devils are similar in nature, however, the important thing is who they take orders from.

However, when a divine angel falls from heaven due to the effects of Angel Fall, they can break the orders of God in order to return to Heaven, such as killing humans, despite creating a paradox for God's plans for the Final Judgment, and seemingly have an orderly fashion of thinking. As with the case of Archangel Gabriel under the guise of Misha Kreutzev, who spends his time helping Touma, Tsuchimikado Motoharu and Kanzaki Kaori trying to find the culprit of her fall. Later when Kanzaki and the others try to prevent him or more appropriately inconvenience him from killing Kamijou Touya who was unknowingly the culprit, Gabriel resorted to destroying the world instead.

The case is somewhat different in the science side however, as evidenced by Kazakiri Hyouka's existence, as she displayed emotions similar to that of humans. However, Hyouka herself is shown to behave as a mindless tool similar to that of angels in Christian lore, after having her Fuse Kazakiri mode activated.

Abilities

As stated angels in both sides are extremely powerful beings, capable of causing great destruction. So much is their power, that their very existence can distort the world. It has been said that a single angel has the power to bring down the Vatican. Even a depowered one such as Archangel Gabriel in his first appearance was simply toying with Kanzaki, a powerful Saint in her own right.

An archangel such as Gabriel has been shown to possess the ability to manipulate any celestial body through the use of "Astral in Hand", allowing it to immediately block the sun by speeding up Earth's rotation. He also displayed tremendous speed, able to move from Russia to France easily and eliminate their forces.

In order to be "summoned" or take a physical form on Earth, Angels must have a medium, or "core", to keep them bound to the Earth. Likewise, if the core that binds them is destroyed their physical form will leave the Earth.

Both divine and artificial angels seem to be weak to Touma's Imagine Breaker as well, as with the case with Misha Kreutzev trying to avoid Touma's right hand, as well as Touma himself trying to avoid touching Kazakiri Hyouka after finding out her true form.

Abrahamic Angels

One notable feature that the angels of the magic side has is their name being chosen by God, which is the purpose for which they are created. As such the names of angels cannot be easily changed, unless a powerful distortion changes these laws of God. Angels are also genderless and is depicted in some Christian lore as having qualities of both male and female.

Angels are also apparently susceptible to Angel Fall, which forcibly casts them down from heaven. At which point, angels will try to get back into heaven, even if it means disobeying the will of God.

An angel's name and attributes are widely referenced by magician's spell chants throughout the story, such as being used as a way to borrow power from when constructing a magic circle.

Archangels

Archangel is a term used to refer to angels of higher rank than normal angels, in the Toaru Majutsu no Index universe there are four recognized archangels that are aligned to their own corresponding elements and attributes.

Each member of God's Right Seat derive their powers from the four archangels depending on their alignment after cleansing as much of their original sin as possible.

Archangel Gabriel

Archangel Gabriel (大天使　(ガブリエル) Daitenshi Gaburieru?) is an archangel that appears in Toaru Majutsu no Index. He embodies the The Power of God (神の力 Kami no Chikara?) and represents the symbol of water which is its attribute, and is the guardian of the moon, the governor of blue, and the protector of the rear side. He is the only true abrahamic angel to appear in the series thus far.

Acqua of the Back is aligned with the archangel. Because of the distortion of the elements, he can bypass the name God has given him and is weaker than normal, even then Gabriel is still more powerful than several other characters combined such as Accelerator and Kazakiri Hyouka.

Other Archangels

Archangel Uriel, also known as God's Flame or Fire of God Archangel Raphael, also known as Medicine of God Archangel Michael, also known as Regard of God or The Likeness of God

Other angels

Fallen Angel

Lucifer the Light-Bringer was said to be an angel that was the closest being to be allowed to sit to the right of God, until he malfunctions and causes chaos in one-third of all the angels in heaven, making him rebel against God's will and causing war and becomes a fallen angel. He is later defeated by Archangel Michael who became the ruler of all the angels, and had become a higher being compared to Lucifer even though they were once equals.

Moreover, there is a mention of the Grigoris by Sherry Cromwell as the ones who gave knowledge to humans on how God created Man from clay before the time of Noah, knowledge which eventually gave birth to the golem.

Non-Abrahamic angels

Aiwass

Aiwass, the entity that Aleister Crowley supposedly summoned and the true author of the Book of the Law, has also shown the characteristics of an Angel, possessing a halo above its head and a divine form.

Espers

Espers of Academy City have been shown to sometimes exhibit angelic characteristics under specific circumstances. The most well-known example is what is termed "Awakening" by the fandom, wherein an esper gains wings and sometimes halos following contact with Magic and an emotional breakthrough. So far, only Accelerator has been shown to "awaken", gaining black wings partially during the Taowu incident at Seiin High School, then fully during the 0930 Incident, white wings and a halo during World War III, and finally platinum wings during the Ceremony of Mo Athair. Accelerator also speaks the garbled language of the angels in the early manifestations, though he can now retain his rationality.

The exact reasons behind this phenomenon are unclear, but it is known to be linked to Accelerator's mental state or him having an emotional breakthrough, like him feeling cornered or having something to protect. And when first manifesting a particular color, it follows Accelerator having contact with magic: redirecting the explosion resulting from Taowu's body collapsing into space; hearing Index's singing prayer to free Last Order from her coma induced by the manifestation of Fuse Kazakiri; singing a magic spell to save Last Order using data from Index's song, his encounter with Aiwass, and magical parchments under a Telesma-filled sky and crossing the Abyss using the new kabbalistic tree Clonoth with the assistance of Qliphah Puzzle 545. Index also compares the matter of the wings as similar to Telesma yet also fundamentally different in some way, and after first manifesting the wings, Accelerator, similar to Sasha Kreutzev as a former vessel of Telesma, is able to sense magic.

The cyborg Rensa 29, while making use of Accelerator's ability, was shown to be able to manifest wings same as Accelerator, deliberately getting pushed into a difficult situation to draw out the black wings and manifesting the white wings while determined to protect Yakumi Hisako, though she didn't manifest a halo.

The #2 Level 5 Kakine Teitoku manifests angelic wings when using his powers, but it is unknown if this is like Accelerator's, or just an aesthetic choice stemming from personal preference.

During the Level 6 Shift attempt on Misaka Mikoto, the transformed Level 5 esper manifests a halo, and even physically resembles the form of Misha Kreutzev during World War III.

The manifestation of angelic characteristics is not restricted to Level 5s only. While fighting to save her mother and using the magic of the Rosicrucian Spiritual Item violin Stativarius Ainsel, Sakibasu Yuri temporarily gained white wings and a halo.

Artificial Angels

The AIM Burst is a less obvious form of an artificial angel.

Magic cabals such as the Hermentic Order of the Golden Dawn (Aleister Crowley's former magic organization), seem to have dabbled in creating angels themselves by collecting the formless telesma into a container which is in the image of a person. It is unknown if they had succeeded, though since Aleister Crowley has successfully manage to create an artifical angel on his own, he was most likely influenced by the cabal's methods.

One example of an "artificial angel" is Fuse Kazakiri, the "artificial angel form" of Kazakiri Hyouka, an existence that manifested from the mixing of AIM fields throughout Academy City and resides in the "Imaginary Number District" when not physically manifested. Fuse Kazakiri, an existence that is considered considerably less powerful than an a Christian archangel, has displayed the ability to fire beams of energy that can reach several kilometers in length, project an AIM barrier that protects all those around her, flying at supersonic speeds and manifest a powerful energy sword.

The AIM Burst, an AIM entity product of the Level Upper network also displayed angelical attributes such as a Halo and wings similar to those of Fuse Kazakiri. It should be noted that Kazakiri Hyouka, Aiwass and AIM Burst all had small triangular-prism shaped cores inside their bodies that sustain their existence.

#Kinoverse Lore #Information // Magic Side #Information // Science Side

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honourablejester · 4 years ago

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Spellbook/Book of Shadows Descriptions:

I saw a post recently about how you would describe your own spellbook, if you had one in RL, and that was an interesting idea, but I misread it first and thought it was describing spellbooks for your characters. Which is honestly a bit more interesting to me, because of various circumstances, so I thought I’d do that first.

(My spellbook, if I’m entirely honest, would likely be whatever the medieval equivalent of a ring-binder would be, because I like to physically lay stuff out and rearrange things for organisation purposes, so loose sheets that can be clipped or tied together in various orders would likely be what I ended up with)

Also, you may notice from the following, I like illusionists. Also abjurers and diviners, but they don’t show up here. GOOlocks are a given.

Heironymous Xiloscient, High Elf Illusionist & Historian:

Hieronymous is a shabby mess of a hunchbacked wizard who lives in an attic flat-slash-perpetual book landslide in a university district, is dating a shady mess of an assassin rogue, and is about half-and-half historian and wizard. He is not at all a practical sort of person.

His spellbook is a mess. It’s this great huge lumpy codex that he keeps sloppily stitching pages into the back of, covered in leather so patched and beaten and stained it’s hard to tell what colour it used to be. The thing is bristling with bookmarks and loose sheets, because he’s constantly cross-referencing back and forth within it, and he needs something to grip to flip easily. He could get a permanent three or four bookmarks stitched into it, three different coloured ribbons that he could put to the right pages each time, but he keeps forgetting to do that, so we’re left with whatever scraps he had to hand instead. This is purely for cross-referencing, though, for ease of moving back and forth between pages. He knows where everything in the book is, and if he needed it in a hurry, he could crack open the right page every time.

Every time he puts a spell in, he usually does remember to put the spell itself and all the pertinent practical necessities of it together, but then there’s an annotated ramble on the history and theory and links the spell has to a bunch of other things. And some other rambles that the spell reminded him of, and usually several pages of what was basically a mental wiki-walk on his part. All written in this incredibly cramped, tight, blotchy handwriting that half looks like it’s a code but mostly it’s just messy. He’s more careful with his handwriting on dissertations and things he has to actually submit to people, but for his personal spellbook? Scribbles at the speed of thought.

However messy the book looks, though, like the wizard himself, it is nonetheless very rigorously researched and holds a lot more pointed observations than you might think.

He also has a much smaller little back-up ‘folio’ which is just his spells themselves, along with assorted loose sheets of related research when he remembers to copy some over.

Fenlock the Frog, Bullywug Illusionist & Adventurer:

An abandoned urchin, Fenlock grew up mostly feral in a vast swamp. He might have grown up to be a very different sort of person, if not for two things. One: he stumbled across the blackened ruins of a wizard’s tower in the depths of the swamp, with several still-intact rooms hidden by illusions, and two: when a group of adventurers tried to slaughter him some years later to raid the ruins themselves, a passing dragonborn gladiator helped save his life and let him keep at least one ‘treasure’ from his old home, earning his eternal loyalty in the process.

As a wizard, Fenlock is slowly and painstakingly self-taught from the books and notes that survived in the ruins, starting with the ones in Common that he could semi-easily puzzle over, and graduating to several of the slightly more complex volumes. He chose illusion as his school partly because that’s what he had access to, but also because he saw how genuinely useful illusion magic was when it came to protecting what matters to you, since the only reason he had anything to puzzle over at all was because of the illusion spells hiding the study and sections of the library.

He’s still a Bullywug, though, and a feral little shit who wanted shiny things, so his personal spellbook is the fanciest thing he could scrounge from the remains of the tower. And, given the apparent personality of its original owner, there were several shiny options to choose from.

The one he went with is a codex in deep burgundy leather, with gold embossing and several small amethysts inlaid around the edges of the front plate. The pages are gilt-edged and a thick, heavy paper. It’s the fanciest thing he’d ever seen in his life, the fanciest thing a lot of people have seen in their lives, and was probably intended by the original owner of the tower as a blank slate for a magnum opus. It also has a nice little enchantment on it that protects the paper from water-damage, probably because the original wizard hid himself away in a bloody swamp and had at least some awareness of the fact.

The book, along with the clothes on his back and a couple of bottles of good inks, were the only things Fenlock managed to keep when Fierce saved him from the adventuring party. He is deeply, deeply attached and incredibly protective of it, viewing it as a gift from his ‘teacher’, and while he’s willing out of general paranoia to transcribe spells elsewhere as a back-up, if the book ever was actually destroyed he would be completely devastated.

He’s gonna learn Nystul’s Magic Aura at some point just to protect it.

Alcyone of Carcosa, Aasimar Great Old One Warlock:

This is a Tomelock’s Book of Shadows, not a spellbook, so its appearance is only partially of Alcyone’s choice, and she has something of a complicated relationship with it.

Alcyone’s powers were unwillingly gifted to her by an eldritch star cluster called the Hyades, at the cost of the destruction of her home city of Carcosa, and Alcyone possibly being either plane- or time-shifted away from its ruins. Her relationship with her powers is thus complicated, to say the least. However, she views the grimoire she was given as something close to an apology gift from her patron, as it allows her to look for other types of magic than just those the stars want to give her.

The grimoire is a heavy codex consisting of sheets of vellum bound between two plates of a strange grey metal. On the outside, the metal is fully covered in a stained yellow leather, with the Hyades constellation embossed heavily in black on the front and rear. Sometimes the embossed stars seem to glow the silver-purple of her eldritch blast. The spine has strange symbols on it that she hasn’t yet deciphered, and isn’t sure she wants to. When she finishes transcribing spells into the grimoire, the vellum takes on a strange silvery sheen and becomes slightly metallic, as if to match the metal of the binding plates.

The book also chimes slightly when she studies from it. She can’t hear this, or doesn’t notice it, but everyone around her will. It’s not a good chiming.

This is a fun game, honestly …

#d&d #writing exercise #spellbooks #wizards #warlocks

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communisticrevolution · 5 years ago

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I wrote another essay about homoeroticism - this one’s on The Great Gatsby

I’m not sure if anyone cares about this because I can’t envision The Great Gatsby fandom being as desperate for such content as the Lord of the Flies one, but I hope that anyone who can be bothered to read enjoys it! Thank you for all the positive feedback, and check out The Great Gatsby if you haven’t already :))

Although on a purely superficial level, The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald is a blatantly obvious examination of the American Dream, the shallowness of the upper classes, and the underlying corruption and hedonism perpetually underpinning affluent 1920s society, an alternative and previously analysed reading of the novel lies partially below the surface, yet evident enough to possess a significant critical following. This theme is, undeniably, homoeroticism, perhaps hidden and coded implicitly within the text to disguise still criminalised components, but crucially important, particularly from the perspective of understanding Nick Carraway’s narration, and the nature of his conspicuous bias towards Jay Gatsby which skews his reliability significantly when recognised by the reader. Despite his proclamation at the end of Chapter 3 stating that his ‘cardinal virtue’ is that he is ‘one of the few honest people that I have (he has) ever known,’ from the beginning of his subjective account of events, his descriptions of others suggest that his statement of being ‘inclined to reserve all judgments’ on the first page is contradicted by his profiling of others, both physically and in regards to their personalities. This is almost relentless and lacking in exclusive scrutiny, offering an insight which appears to be detached, consequently lulling the reader into believing Carraway’s points surrounding his allegedly objectively accurate retelling of the summer – however, even before this, Nick admits the one major and vital fault of his perception, which is Gatsby. Even as it becomes clear to all parties that Gatsby is, in many ways, extremely morally flawed (he is an illegal bootlegger by profession, he is obsessive and somewhat manipulative of Daisy, he facilitates and encourages her infidelity, he is fixated on materialistic wealth, and he frequently lacks consideration for others if it ensures his ability to pursue his ambitions), to Nick, he represents ‘everything for which I have (he has) unaffected scorn.’ For our narrator, this character is symbolic of hope, success, and romance, and when the inherently decaying American Dream inevitably collapses, as exhibited by Gatsby’s murder towards the end of the plot, Nick’s portrayal in hindsight is not altered by Jay’s faults, but by his positive attributes. Prior to a genuine introduction with a scene involving the two, Nick writes that ‘there was something gorgeous about him, some heightened sensitivity to the promises of life,’ and this permeates all. Regardless of whether or not the assumption is made that Nick is describing merely Gatsby’s metaphorical and figurative role in the story, it is clear since the book commences that his perception of the titular man could, in many ways, be interpreted as one of intense passion and attraction, far beyond the platonic relationships he has with other individuals, and later extending to him conveying the physical beauty that is highly appealing to him concerning Gatsby. Even Nick’s love interest, Jordan Baker, is not exempt from his reproval, and is, in fact, articulated to be ‘dishonest,’ with negative and emotionally lacklustre depictions that prompt questions surrounding the easily debatable strength and plausibility of his romantic interest in her.

One major scene that is consistently referenced and considered to be majorly indicative of Nick’s sexual orientation occurs very early on into the novel towards the end of Chapter 2 – it is incredibly subtle and often overlooked especially by first time readers due to the cryptic nature of its language and the seemingly comparatively unimportant series of events that ensue. In fact, one could argue that there is generally very little need to include such a scene, and thus contemplate why Fitzgerald decides to do so regardless. Usually, from a literary perspective, for something to be rendered worthy of inclusion, it must serve to develop plot, characters, or a specific setting and atmosphere in adherence to overriding themes, and the focus upon Nick, still as a relatively submissive bystander who is simultaneously immersed enough to offer a narrative insight, indicates that the only feasible value available must be revolving around his character development. The plot is not advanced as the occurrences are entirely overlooked and left with no true contextual repercussions, and the setting at this point is not focal nor enhanced with adjectives and figurative language that would suggest a distinct relationship between the whole surrounding set of dates and the West and East Egg regions which become recurring areas with allocated symbolic values, and ergo this being the reason.

Here, most notably, Fitzgerald must be attempting to prove or infer something about Nick Carraway, which I believe, largely due to substantial implicit evidence within the text, to be referring primarily to one of the many factors culminating to formulate his broad unreliability; a sense of sexual ambiguity, and the blatantly apparent evasion and withholding of information, but still without avoidance of the subject in its entirety, implied by the use of ellipses to signify both time passing and suppressed detailing of the true events. In regards to homoerotic subtext, this component potentially begins with the description of Mr McKee, the character that Nick purportedly has an affair with, as ‘pale’ and ‘feminine’ upon first encounter, two adjectives directly referencing a lack of masculinity and, in turn, the stereotype of effeminate fragility typically associated with homosexual men. His involvement in the ‘’artistic game’’ has, again, subtextual connotations with homosexual and, possibly to a lesser extent, bisexual males, as the following of artistic pursuits was perceived to be more traditionally feminine, and perhaps later adhering to forms of aestheticism and the almost synonymously analogous and prominent figure of Oscar Wilde, who was and still is renowned for both aesthetic and philosophical reasons and his historical persecution for gross indecency. With this evocation of Mr McKee in mind, suggesting his lack of conformity to societal norms through sexual deviation, at around 10 o’clock, Nick wipes ‘from his cheek the spot of dried lather’ that had ‘been bothering him’ over the course of the evening, a remarkably intimate gesture, and an otherwise broadly inexplicable fixation within the context of this man’s likely homosexuality. Later, Mr McKee proceeds to leave the room, and Nick follows without hesitation, implying almost a non-verbal communication which results in the scene in the elevator, laden with highly euphemistic linguistic choices. Mr McKee uses the command ‘Come to lunch with me some day’ in a manner reminiscent of an individual asking another out in a cryptically heteronormative tone, coupled with the pair ‘groaning’ down the elevator, a verb synonymous with overtly sexual onomatopoeia. Nick agrees, saying he’ll ‘be glad to,’ perhaps an admission to both the reader and Mr McKee that the feeling implied by the latter is to some extent reciprocated, indicating that Nick himself is not heterosexual. Just before this, a ‘lever’ is incorporated which Mr McKee is shunned for allegedly touching, seemingly a clear phallic symbol due to its vague resemblance of a penis, reinforcing the layers of homoerotism and the ambiance leading up to a romantic or sexual encounter involving the two characters that have distanced themselves from the overwhelming group, potentially a metaphor for the exclusion and separation of the LGBT community necessary for protection in an intolerant outside world. This scenario, abruptly led and finished with a series of ellipses, concludes with Nick, our narrator, ‘standing beside his (Mr McKee’s) bed,’ as Mr McKee is ‘sitting up between the sheets, clad in his underwear, with a great portfolio in his hands.’ Nick ends up at a train station waiting for the ‘four o’ clock train,’ leaving what truly happened with Mr McKee largely a mystery, but the aforementioned’s nakedness and the presence of a bed, as well as the feasibly metaphorical ‘portfolio,’ all indicate that a sexual encounter took place between the two, as little other explanation is given for the passing of six hours shown to have been almost exclusively in each other’s company. As always, Nick’s bystander-esque lack of involvement even in situations centring predominantly around him leaves room for plausible deniability; maybe the scene is exclusively a reflection on Mr McKee’s sexual orientation and subsequent moral perversion, or, more significantly, Nick’s willingness to go along with anything without reaffirming his own beliefs or desires, painting him as a fully submissive and detached narrator. Regardless, this relatively brief passage is undeniably dense in highly homoerotic content, portraying Nick largely as a closeted homosexual (or simply a heterosexual man who had a short and sexually intimate relationship with someone of the same gender, but this is far more difficult to believe in the surrounding circumstances), with this conveying an image of both and unreliable narrator and one who could conceivably be infatuated with the protagonist (Gatsby).

Nick’s relationship with Gatsby is vital throughout the novel, in both plot and in how Nick chooses and is capable of narrating a story focusing mainly upon the latter – one which is, evidently, biased invariably in his favour, even amidst ethical decay and his eventual death, which appears to influence Nick far more profoundly than the others, all of whom decide to abandon Gatsby by not attending his funeral as the book comes to a close. Despite the brevity of the period in which they interact and become extremely close, Nick organises the majority of Gatsby’s funeral, as previously mentioned, is loyal to him throughout with consistently lacking personal gain, offers him advice and support, and after his death, decides to write a memoir framing him in an overwhelmingly positive and complimentary manner, one which is likely far from the reality of his existence and impact upon others. Physically, Nick is evidently immensely attracted to Gatsby; when his love interest is given an unenthusiastic paragraph with phrases including ‘I enjoyed looking at her’ and emphasis upon her more masculine features and attributes (‘small-breasted,’ and ‘like a young cadet’), Gatsby’s intrigue is delivered impactfully, with several sentences dedicated to his smile alone, which is stated to have had ‘a quality of eternal reassurance in it.’ The last interaction between Nick and Jay consists of a long and emotional confession delivered by the latter, involving the true history of his origins, a story which he escapes explicitly mentioning, denies, and formulates lies to detract from right up until the end of the text, signifying that the bond established between both men may even be greater than the romanticised superficiality of Gatsby’s infatuation and fixation with Daisy. Whether or not Gatsby ever truly loved her is easy to speculate, with the most common theory being that he was simply enamoured with an idea that he had attached to her for his own sanity and aspirations – in a more uncommon homosexual reading of Gatsby, perhaps he ascribes an idea of the American Dream, wealth, success, and integration with the ‘old-money’ elite to her as a means of distracting from his real sexual and romantic interests, although this is admittedly far from substantiated. Nick finishes the dialogue with allegedly the ‘only compliment I (he) ever gave him,’ which is stated as written: ‘’They’re a rotten crowd,’ I shouted across the lawn. ‘You’re worth the whole damn bunch put together.’ Gatsby responds to this with his ‘radiant and understanding smile,’ one glimpse of a world in which Nick’s love for him may have not been so apparently unrequited, and potentially a revelation into the growing mutuality of what could have been a romance in different circumstances. Nick’s description of Gatsby and his actions is close to being perpetually complimentary, and usually resumes to this position quickly when it falters, so this reinforces his unreliability and a degree of obliviousness to his own feelings and emotions, whilst simultaneously demonstrating to the reader what is already salient at most levels of observance – that Nick views Gatsby and his worth above all others, including his friend of many years, Tom, his cousin, Daisy, and his romantic interest, Jordan. This level of attraction and love is usually reserved to forms outside of what is known to be platonic, suggesting that what Nick feels for Gatsby also transcends friendship. In Tom and Nick’s last interaction, Tom states that Gatsby ‘threw dust into your (Nick’s) eyes just like he did in Daisy’s,’ conveying that he might himself have deemed Nick and Gatsby’s relationship to be of a similar nature to Daisy and Gatsby’s. Gatsby ‘throwing dust’ into her eyes was a way of performing a romantic illusion that caused her to fall in love with him, implying that Nick also fell in love with Gatsby as he became similarly enchanted by his hope, dedication, and beauty, leading into his romanticised retelling of the man himself.

Ultimately, I personally believe that homoeroticism is definitely existing and, at times, prevalent within The Great Gatsby, and that above all, it is critical to Nick’s characterisation and generating an acceptable explanation of his behaviour and actions, as well as his identity as a character. Many of his attributes, such as his submission and tendency to behave as a bystander in his own life and social interactions, could be found as possessing origins in both a desire to fit in as a social chameleon and avoid extreme scrutiny under the masculine ideal, and also in the repressed identity exhibited by a vast number of sexual minorities in communities and historical contexts of heightened intolerance, where it would be necessary for non-heterosexual individuals to conform to norms and avoid confrontation. In Chapter 7, as Nick remembers that it is his birthday, he reflects on ‘the promise of a decade of loneliness, a thinning list of single men to know,’ a poignant evaluation to finish this essay with – adhering to his consistent writing style and internal monologue, Nick focuses on men here, not women, avoiding the topic of getting a wife and settling down into the rhythm of 1920s America, and instead accentuating his declining list of opportunities in romantic prospects, as well as concentrating on the ‘promise of loneliness’ that homosexuality undoubtedly was prior to at the very least decriminalisation. He will remain incapable of finding love and fulfilment in the sense that others can with relative ease, and he will continue to restrict his personal identity and expression for safety in the aftermath of the death of arguably his only true friend (and genuine romantic interest), with even Gatsby failing to treat him with equal respect and admiration. Some argue that the true tragedy of The Great Gatsby lies in the story of unrequited love detailed by the narrator, and I would not fully dispute this; this great American novel is, on the surface, a story surrounding the corruption of the American Dream, capitalism, disillusionment, and the ethically abhorrent upper classes, but more obscurely, it could potentially be interpreted as an enlightened representation of closeted sexual identity, genuine love (not concerning Daisy and Gatsby), and unreliability in narration.

#the great gatsby #nick carraway #jay gatsby #natsby #lgbt #gay #essay #english lit #the american dream #themes #homoeroticism #f scott fitzgerald #nick x gatsby

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gregellner · 4 years ago

Photo

Covers by Larry Rostant.

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Today, rather than reviewing David Alan Mack's three Dark Arts novels (The Midnight Front, The Iron Codex, and The Shadow Commission), I have elected to instead do an analysis of what is known regarding some of the less-explained elements of the supernatural systems underlying his secret history series, especially those that are not fully explained in the glossaries or on his website. To simplify, angels and demons will be called "Presences" for their overall designation.

For more information regarding the terminology of for the practice of magick within the series, see the pages for generalized information and the glossary. To learn more about Black Magick affiliated with the powers of Hell, see the Infernal Hierarchy and a list of demons. To look into the less common White Magick associated with Celestial powers of Heaven, see the Celestial Hierarchy and a list of most, but not all, angels present in the story.

In referencing individual angels or demons, their names will be listed entirely in capital letters, much like how they are presented within the novels and by David Alan Mack in external communications. Furthermore, the word "magick" will be capitalized when referring to one type or another, and the words "karcist" and "magician" will be relatively interchangeable, as they were in the third novel.

Disclaimer: Mentions of various entities within this analysis do touch on real-world religions, but are not to be taken as opinion on the matter beyond basic objective commentary on the story as it is presented in the novels.

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As a note: There are other systems presented within the story, primarily through general mentions, such as "Wūshi of the ancient Chinese way, Arctic shamans, [and] doctors of the African Rites" (colloquially known as "witch doctors" in common parlance), is has been confirmed that they are still working with the same Presences, just through different names and rituals.

This approach has precedence in the books, particularly in The Iron Codex's examination of the creation myth of The Mystery of the Dead God. Cultures across centuries and countries, each of them with their own cultures, all contribute to the same story of creation. The range is pretty extensive, as can be seen chronologically in Cade Martin's examination: roughly 3000 BCE Egypt, 1700 BCE Babylon, 1000 BCE Zhou dynasty China, ninth century BCE Greece, 800 BCE Judea, and third century BCE Maya, each of which would have had completely different ways of using magick to learn of the mystery.

In terms of practitioners of these non-Eurocentric methods of the Art, there are at least two culturally distinct examples deliberately shown.

First, there is the Vate Pythia, the last Oracle of Delphi, who works in prophecies and can call out to individual people who are in need of and deserving of her aid. The way that she functions seems to follow an ancient Greek form of magick, one of divine inspiration rather than yoking demons or angels into one's body or calling on them in the same ways as modern European karcists. She also appears to still worship the old gods, mentioning Chronos, the Greek god of time.

Second, there are the uses of Kabbalah, a form of Jewish mysticism. In The Iron Codex, they are alluded to in that they apparently work with White Magick in ways that would enable them to translate the eponymous codex of magickal knowledge. In The Shadow Commission, a user of magick under the employ of Mossad sends a golem, a nigh-indestructible assassin, after a former Nazi agent in the United States, with its sheer durability and the method of its defeat directly referencing the way in which the most famous story of a golem in Jewish folklore was shut down (by turning the "Truth" word on its forehead to "Death" by removing one of the Hebrew letters). This more hostile usage of Kabbalistic magick is likely their "Black Magick" variation, Sitra Achra.

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The nadach and the nikraim are, respectively, mortals who have had their soul bound with that of a particular demon or angel, boosting their magickal power significantly. While these can occur naturally from birth, as in the case of the sole known nadach in the story and one of the two nikraim examples, certain rituals can be called forth to artificially invoke that connection to create a powerful magick user from a normal person, with powers as strong as the Seraphim. While these people are not immortal by any means, they are known to handle yoking demons or angels with less strain, with those naturally formed doing so with less need to indulge in distractions such as drug abuse than those who are created artificially.

As an added bonus, those who are fused by soul with the infernal or the holy seem capable of utilizing specific supernatural powers even without yoking a single spirit. The nadach who was bound to LEGION proved capable of splitting his consciousness into three distinct beings, and perhaps more given sufficient the time and practice. The natural nikraim in the books was capable of using an unnamed angel's abilities to project her thoughts telepathically to animals in her vicinity, nudging them to act in her favor, though not directly hearing them in response. The artificial nikraim had a more unusual gift supplied by the Seraph GESHURIEL, namely that of being able to yoke a tremendous amount of demons without being driven to madness, along with his ability to read proto-Enochian, "the language of angels in the epoch before the Fall," with relatively little difficulty compared to many others, to the point that it was described as "preternatural ease" by an onlooker. However, that one still felt weaker than the natural nikraim.

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There are some particulars about the Pauline Art (as opposed to the Black Magick "Goetic Art" of working with demons) that help to distinguish itself pretty extensively from the primary magick used during World War II (and, for that matter, apparently beforehand in Europe). First, let us go into the etymology of the two terms, each of which are named for books in The Lesser Key of Solomon, a five-volume grimoire on demonology compiled in the mid-17th century from materials that preceded it by several centuries.

The "Goetic" Art is named for (arguably) the most famous of the aforementioned books, the first named Ars Goetia. As it so happens, "Goetia" is also a term for a form of magick that includes the conjuration of demons.

The "Pauline" Art is named for the third of the volumes, Ars Paulina, itself named for Paul the Apostle who is purported to have communicated with heavenly powers. This two-book work encompasses the twenty-four angels aligned with the fwenty-four hours of the day and the three hundred sixty spirits of the degrees of the zodiac.

As Pauline magicians are bound by oaths of non-interference with the machinations of Black Magick karcists by the inter-order "Covenant," they tend to restrict their interactions with the Divine to remotely viewing actions, divining the future, healing the wounded, and defending with a variety of magickal shields. Only those who breach the boundaries and decide to become gray magicians such as Father Luis Pérez. Whether or not this is true for other traditions of magick is unclear, or if it is restricted to the White Magick side of the Eurocentric model.

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As stated in the general analysis of magick, yoking angels is much harder than their fallen counterparts, with the one calling for them needing to be granted the favor of the Divine and to beg of the Celestial forces, rather than invoke demands in accordance with a pre-existing pact, on account of angels still having the link to the Divine and the will behind it rather than not having that will as demons. In fact, there are no defined pacts linking humans to any one angelic patron when using White Magick, meaning that multiple distinct highly-ranked angels capable of being called upon at any one time, or even all at once.

Although not entirely unique to the Celestial side of the Art as shown in the novelette “Hell Rode With Her,” there seems to be an added focus on taking up the powers of one or several of the seven archangels and utilizing their powers in a manner similar to that of yoking demons into a karcist's body. As some notable examples, there has been the use of MICHAEL and URIEL's swords and GABRIEL's shield.

The organization of angels makes for a very different kind of chess game regarding how to defend against any one Presence. There do appear to be "dukes" affiliated with individual higher powers, as is mentioned in the aforementioned Ars Paulina itself. One example was the yoking of DAROCHIEL, BENOHAM, and MALGARAS after asking permission from the archangel SAMAEL, and another was the yoking of that of HAMARIEL after asking it of ABASDASHON, who has notably not been directly identified as an archangel in the novel nor the associated website. Specific Orders of these angels are not always described, but those who are called upon to seek aid from another angel seem to primarily be of the upper Orders. According to dialogue in The Shadow Commission, even if one were to exclude one of the seven archangels who likely take up a great many of the Presences, there are still dozens of alternative protective barriers that can be made.

Owing to the lack of contracts, and perhaps to some other oddities, it appears that specific angels can be called upon for protection against harm except for those weapons that bear the sigil of the protecting angel. While this is not entirely unique to angels, especially given its prominence throughout the novels on the demonic side, demons only appear to be used for defensive sigils of individual patrons, one of six apparent options.

One particular "trap" is known for those who use White Magick: the angel's snare, a version of a "devil's trap" used for angels rather than demons. Those who are caught within its binds when it is invoked are rendered paralyzed so long as they hold on to the Celestial Presences within. The arcane sigil itself is formed with proto-Enochian script, the language from before the demons' fall from grace.

A variety of powers provided by angels are known even outside of individually named ones, even barring those already mentioned above. While magickal injuries are difficult to heal, if not impossible, the power of an angel can be used to draw the dwindling life force from one person and apply it to another, saving one life at the expense of the one from which said life was taken. Blasts of pure light are a fairly standard use of angelic power that is easily associated with their kind.

Another relatively common ability is the use of holy fire, which appears to take the form of invisible or white-hot tongues of flame rather than the blues, greens, and perhaps other colors associated with hellfire. This form of fire seems to be more versatile than the nearly always destructive hellfire, with uses such as the conjuration of weapons, beams from the eyes, a breath of flame, and even usage in conjunction with other angels to create temporary flames for torturing the infernal powers or banishing spirits and demonic sigils.

The usage of the Sight, identified by Mack as "full-spectrum vision, including perception of invisible or magickally concealed persons and things," is different from that of Black Magick karcists. According to those viewing users of the Pauline Art, said vision takes the form of green flames replacing the eyes, or the eyes themselves seeming to "flicker" in some way to see what is hidden.

In terms of teleportation, some White magicians may be capable of teleportation, be it through a "thunder jump" in a bolt of lightning from one location to another (seemingly only through single use in at least some angels), or by summoning enormous, feathered angel wings to near-instantaneously move to another person, take hold of them, and transport themselves to another, safer location.

One of the most potent uses of White Magick in the series is the use of something identified as a "spirit hammer," a way to sever the bonds of all of the yoked spirits of a Black Magick karcist (though perhaps not a White Magick one; unproven one way or the other) from a distance by invoking an exorcism rite, with this ability only able to be utilized once before the angel ascends back to Heaven.

Certain angels can be called upon to let loose individual spells, much as demons probably can be used to the same effect, each of which have their incantations stated in Latin. While the most common incantations beyond the experiments to yoke demons or angels that are shown in the series are for exorcism, there is at least one case of a spell cast that is deliberately mentioned as tied to an individual angel, namely MARBAS, which has its incomplete incantation translate to "Spill blood."

==========

In The Shadow Commission, an intriguing magickal artifact is brought up, one that invites another wrinkle into the overall system: phylacteries. The original phylacteries are derived from Jewish folklore, more commonly known amongst the religion as tefillin. They are a set of small black leather boxes containing scrolls of parchment inscribed with verses from the Torah, and are worn by observant Jews during weekday morning prayers on the forehead and one palm.

In fantasy, including in this magical system, they are more often a container to hold someone's soul, allowing them to live continuously and often not age at all unless the container is somehow destroyed. Destruction of the phylactery can cause instantaneous acceleration of the soul owner's age to befit their chronological age.

In The Shadow Commission, at least one member of the eponymous group, along with probably the rest as well, has one of these artifacts, and it is known to be a particularly powerful one. It is described as thus:

It was a bottle of hand-blown lavender crystal, its body broad at the base and tapering at the top to meet a long and narrow neck. The surface of the bottle was etched with eldritch sigils, many of which Anja recognized as Enochian, the language of the angels. A fine metallic mesh had been woven around the bottle, a delicate web of precious metals pulled into hair-thin filigree. Sealing the bottle was a long cork secured with an abundance of tightly wrapped steel wire.

The use of Enochian, the language of angels, rather than proto-Enochian, helps to figure out that the means of producing a phylactery are likely infernal in origin, as said language is used in Black Magick experiments extensively, as opposed to the proto-Enochian for White Magick.

These devices are evidently extremely volatile, as a blast that was capable of destroying it caused the artifact to let loose all of its energy very explosively, to a degree similar to a very strong hand grenade, or even stronger, capable of dealing lethal damage even to an accomplished nikraim.

The most interesting element of phylacteries, by far, is the fact that, according to the owner of the one known, the soul within does not need to be that of an actual magician. The owner was not a user of any form of magick beyond that which he hired from elsewhere, but still had a phylactery, and the same can be said of the various members of the Commission, showing that one does not need to have extensive power with magick directly to be able to have a serious impact on its use and prevalence as the centuries continue ever onward.

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allisondraste · 5 years ago

Text

Temperance 30/42

Pairing: Nathaniel Howe/ Female, Non-HoF Cousland

Story Summary: Nathaniel and Elissa were childhood friends, but time and distance tore them apart. In the aftermath of the Fifth Blight, and Ferelden’s Civil War, both Elissa and Nathaniel must attempt reconstruct their tattered lives. As a series of events lead them to be reunited, both are reminded of so many years ago when things were much simpler.

Chapter Summary: The Grand Tourney defies Nathaniel’s expectations

Note: That’s right, y’all! We have a final chapter number (and the big 3 - 0)! I have a few notes that I wanted to make about this chapter as well. Due to the amount of suggestion, innuendo, and things referenced in this chapter, I thought it warranted a note that there are some more mature and sexual themes explored in this chapter that I did not feel necessitated a rating change. However, I just wanted to give everyone a heads up! ^^ Also, shout out to the WoT V.2 for providing me with the excellent backdrop of this story (if you haven’t read Nate’s entry, I highly recommend) as well as to @daydreamingdragonage for coming up with the awesome tavern name featured here. Finally, I just want to thank everyone for being so patient with me in updating! November has been a hellish month with internship apps due, a draft of my dissertation due, a conference, and some personal/mental health woes that all just knocked me on my butt, but I’m back and so happy to be writing again. I’m so grateful to all of my lovely, wonderful readers and friends. Thanks from the bottom of my heart.

First Chapter

Previous Chapter

[AO3 LINK]

Tantervale, 9:26 Dragon

For all that Starkhaven made Ferelden seem like a small, dirty hovel filled with unrefined brutes and barbarians, Tantervale made it seem like a land of impious sinners. Not only was the large marcher city-state pristine and orderly, but it’s people were quiet and mild mannered. On its own, it was not a particularly beautiful place. Plain, uniform buildings stood side by side for as far as the eye could see. The Chantry was the only exception. Decorated with stained glass and golden filigree, the building was nothing like Nathaniel had ever seen, vibrant and large as the palace in Starkhaven and as imposing as Fort Drakon’s shadow.

Down every street and every corner, Andrastian icons and images could be found, accompanied by a fully armored Templar or two, who served as city guards and watched through the slits of their helmets with vigilant eyes. Still, the city and it’s people seemed to revel in the presence of the Grand Tourney, decorating their plain buildings with pennants of blue and gold. Citizens and guests alike danced and sang in the street as wine flowed freely. Nathaniel wondered how the Chantry felt about the influx of pleasure-seeking outsiders pouring into Tantervale, bringing their sin with them. Then again, it was likely a profitable venture. How else would they afford to feed their chancellors to excess or erect a fiftieth marble statue of the Holy Bride of the Maker?

The sheer opulence disgusted him, and yet he was in no position to complain. He’d only ever read about the Grand Tourney in books, or heard about them from Liss who always enthusiastically rambled about her favorite contests and competitors. Even her emphatic descriptions did not do it justice. He wished she could be there to see it. He imagined her face lighting up with excitement as she took everything in, and laughed as he thought about how she might slap him on the arm repeatedly as she pointed at something she did not want him to miss. He had not seen her in four years, and yet there was a big hole at his side where she belonged. At this point, he had no hope that it’d ever be filled.

He shook his head, attempting to refocus on the present, where he stood in the center of the festivities in Tantervale, with a new pouch of coin resting heavily in his hand. Ser Rodolphe had given it to him after watching him compete in the Grand Melee. Nathaniel had stubbornly entered the contest with a bow as his weapon, determined to prove to his mentor how archery could be useful in close-quarters combat. He was faster than his opponents, and managed to duck under, dodge, and evade the many clumsy attacks against him. That is, until the end.

Nathaniel typically enjoyed irony, but the Orlesian bastard that finally managed to disarm him and force him to yield bore an uncanny resemblance to his own father. He had piercing blue eyes and a cruel smirk, and seemed to take great pleasure in disarming Nathaniel, knocking him to the ground, and holding a sword just above his throat. Nathaniel did not enjoy that one bit.

To his surprise, Ser Rodolphe seemed pleased with his performance -- or at least as pleased as he’d ever seen him be. He claimed it was “entertaining” to watch him outmaneuver his opponents, and even admitted that he might have underestimated Nathaniel’s abilities. The knight handed him a purse of coin, gave him a good-natured clap on the shoulder, and went on his way. Nathaniel remained where he stood, dumbfounded, staring at the purse in his hand with a smirk twitching at the corner of his lips.

It was Ben who finally drew him from his pleasant stupor, running up and throwing his arms around Nathaniel, patting him on the back with some force. His fellow squire had grown considerably over the past two years, and he did not yet know his own strength. It reminded Nathaniel of every young mabari he’d ever met. Fully grown, with all the excitement of a pup. It was as uplifting as it was annoying.

“Nate,” Ben shouted right near Nathaniel’s ear, before releasing him from the smothering embrace, “You were fantastic! I was on the edge of my seat the whole time. What did Rodolphe say?”

Nate grinned and held up the coin purse by its strings, letting it swing back and forth in front of Ben’s eyes. “He said to use it wisely.”

“That means ale, yes?” Ben fidgeted eagerly. “And food? One of the locals was telling me about this tavern--”

“Let’s go,” Nate said, laughing and putting an arm around Ben’s shoulder. The younger man smiled in response, and they headed back toward the center of town.

It was early in the afternoon and many merchants from around Thedas stood at kiosks that lined the streets and squares, bringing color and life to the city. At one of the stands, Ben found a replica of Hessarian’s Sword of Mercy that caused his eyes to glitter with youthful excitement, and Nathaniel had no choice but to purchase it for him. He swore he saw his friend’s eyes brim with tears as he thanked him profusely.

They continued on, but Nathaniel stalled at the site of a stand owned by a Dwarven merchant with a thick, braided beard and a doublet of bright red and gold. On the table beside him was a series of small, mechanical music boxes that the man claimed were hand-crafted. One, in particular, caught Nathaniel’s eye. It was a tiny, bronze bronto that sparkled in the sunlight. Twisting its tail produced a tinkling, plucky sound, and a song that Nathaniel had never heard before. Liss would have loved it, he thought, remembering all the times she’d talked to him about Dwarven culture and brontos. He wondered if she’d gotten to “meet” one yet.

Without giving it much of a thought, he bought it, and the merchant thanked him repeatedly for his business. Apparently the people of Tantervale and the visiting Tourney attendees were tough customers when it came to mechanical, dwarven-made music boxes. Nathaniel was happy to oblige.

“Finally,” Ben said, and pointed in the direction of a tavern straight ahead of them. The sign that hung above the doorway featured a humble templar kneeling in front of a curvy figure wearing the robes of a Revered Mother, whose face bore an unusual, shocked expression.

“The Kneeling Knight?” Nathaniel snorted and raised his eyebrows as he followed after his friend.

“Thought you’d like that,” Ben said, turning back and winking at him. “Apparently the locals aren’t as buttoned up as they pretend to be.”

“No one is as buttoned up as they pretend to be.”

“Including you?” Ben offered his typical mischievous smile as he opened the door, motioning for Nathaniel to go in first.

“Especially me,” Nathaniel answered with a shrug, and then entered the crowded tavern.

The Kneeling Knight was a spacious tavern, with a main floor filled with many wooden tables, as well as the bar area where several barmaids an a man who appeared to be the owner worked rapidly to fill mugs and flagons and carry them to guests. A second floor housed a few more tables as well as a balcony where a minstrel stood, performing her songs and poems.

They pushed their way past the dense crowd of people gathered chatting and celebrating to occupy one of the few vacant tables that sat against the back wall. Several of the other patrons pointed and stared, whispering so loudly that it could hardly be called whispering. They’d watched the melee, or so it seemed, and Nathaniel was recognized as “that Fereldan dog who nearly won.” Nearly. He huffed, and attempted to ignore the dozens of eyes that bore into him.

“What’ll you boys be havin’ today,” chirped one of the barmaids as she bumped her hip against Nathaniel’s shoulder. He flinched, but did his best to not look as annoyed as he felt. Ben laughed into his hand.

Offering his most charming smile, he turned his head up to face the barmaid, whose lips were painted red as blood, and offered her his entire purse. “Whatever this buys us.”

The woman grinned mischievously, taking the pouch and tucking it down safely into the top of her dress. “Say no more, sweet thing,” she said and bumped him with her hip again. This time he rolled his eyes.

It was not long after she left that the propositions began. Handfuls of people, person after person, most of them at least twice Nathaniel’s age approached the table, batting their eyes at him, touching his arms, making completely inappropriate remarks involving his bow and their quivers. If his face was not red, it was missing its chance. He declined each and every one of them politely, and when the barmaid returned with the first round of ale, Nathaniel could not have downed the first tankard any faster.

“I can’t believe you sent that last one away,” Ben said after they’d finished a few rounds, “He was right handsome. That woman too! The one with the--” he made a lewd gesture with his hands.

“Ben.”

“What?” He offered Nathaniel a bewildered expression, foam from his last sip hanging just over his upper lip.

“They’re people, not… play things.” He grimaced and Ben seemed to notice the froth on his lip, wiping it off with the back of his arm.

“Right. Sure,” Ben answered wiggling his eyebrows. “If I were you I’d really be playing up my second place finish.”

“Second place is just another way of saying that I lost the slowest,” Nathaniel mumbled as he stared at the music box he’d sat on the table as they came in. He didn’t know why he thought the ale would make him forget about her. It never did anything except make him numb.

“You’re impossible,” Ben prodded good-naturedly, “You’re a young, decently good-looking man who just got himself some attention. Enjoy it, man! Live a little. Unless, of course, you’d rather pine over that Fereldan lass for the rest of your life.”

“If I wanted to talk about Liss, I would have brought her up.” He leaned back in his seat and sighed, forcing a smile he didn’t feel. “If you want me to enjoy myself, you’re doing a terrible job of helping me.”

Ben snorted. “ You’re the one sitting in a tavern, with beautiful men and women throwing themselves at you, while you stare longingly at a toy bronto like it broke your heart.”

“Oh, piss off,” Nathaniel snapped, wishing he had something to throw at him.

“Fine, Fine,” he said, throwing up his hands. He surrendered, but not before throwing Nathaniel a smug expression. “Here I thought that thing with the prince knocked you out of it.

“What ‘thing?’ There was no ‘thing.’” He was lying, of course. He and Sebastian had, in fact, had a thing. He thought he’d been discreet enough that Ben did not know. Clearly, he was mistaken.

Ben smirked, and shook his head. “RIght. ‘Course not.”

Nathaniel sighed and glared at the red-head, muttering. “Once. It was one time.”

“Only because his parents forced him into the Chantry.” His typically rosy cheeks were even rosier, as he teased.

“Ben.”

“A shame, that,” he continued, completely oblivious, “You seemed to really get on with him.”

“Ben,” Nathaniel hissed again, clenching his fists at his side.

“You could have tamed that wild boy prince for them. No need to bother the Maker with it, really.”

Instead of speaking again, he stood and reached across the table to flick his friend forcefully right between his eyes. Ben flinched and reached up to touch the now reddened patch of skin on his forehead. “Ow. Maker! Fine. I’ll stop.”

“Thank you,” Nathaniel muttered dryly, small smirk twitching at the corners of his mouth. Suddenly, he felt much better.

Eventually, Ben got some attention of his own, a young woman with dark eyes and porcelain skin approaching, and whispering in his ear. He blushed, and offered her a seat next to him. He widened his eyes at Nathaniel as she looked away briefly. They exchanged a few flirtations, and wasted no time making their lips acquainted with one another, hands moving where hands shouldn’t go in public. He had to remind himself that Ben was barely more than a boy. Still, Nathaniel was not inclined to remain at the table and watch their publicly-displayed affection. He moved to stand quietly, but staggered a bit, vision swimming. He’d nearly forgotten how much he had to drink. Once he steadied, he made his way to the door, and out of the tavern.

He was not certain how he wound up in the middle of the archery range, only that he did, and that a skillful arrow had brushed past him, nicking his cheek slightly. He reached up, wiping a trickle of warm blood from his face, disoriented and searching for the direction from which the arrow came. One more step, and he’d have been dead, he thought. Or perhaps, someone else said it. It was difficult to tell. There was shouting, a woman’s voice, and a string of profanity, and he looked down to see an elven woman, as angry as she was petite standing in front of him and glowering as if she, in fact, were his size.

“Are you mad,” she shouted, Antivan accent thick on her tongue. “You could have been killed!”

Nathaniel did not answer her immediately, completely disarmed. She was lovely, with her deep green eyes beneath furrowed brows. Her auburn hair was braided loosely over one shoulder, rustling slightly with the wind and her own agitated movement. The fact that she looked at him so sternly did nothing to make her any less attractive.

“Hello,” she drawled, waving a hand emphatically in front of his face.

He shook his head and straightened his posture, hoping to regain what little dignity he could muster in his current state. “You call yourself an archer?”

The elf flinched, clearly offended. “What does it look like, human?”

Nathaniel looked around dramatically and shrugged before returning his gaze to meet hers. “No offense my lady, but you seem to be a terrible shot.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Well, first, you missed your target by quite a bit. And second” he slurred, holding up two fingers for emphasis, “You nearly killed a man.”

“Because that man stumbled out onto the field like some sort of confused druffalo,” she spat, shaking her head in complete disbelief. Nathaniel should not have enjoyed it as much as he did.

“Excuses,” he teased.

“You think that you could do better?” She narrowed her eyes at him.

“I know I could,” he replied with a smirk.

The elven woman seemed to relax at his words, and offered him a smirk of her own. Reaching behind her head, she took an arrow from its quiver, raised her bow, nocked, and fired in one smooth motion. The arrow flew past his head and straight on into the bullseye of the target. Nathaniel observed the arrow for a moment before meeting her lovely eyes again.

“Prove it,” she said, thrusting her bow at him and handing him an arrow.

“Very well,” he answered, bowing playfully before turning around and shooting the borrowed bow, matching her shot exactly. He was impressed with himself, considering how his head still swam. Though he was no longer certain how much of it was from the ale, and how much of it was the prospect of a beautiful woman testing his archery mettle. He almost wanted her to beat him.

They spent the better part of an hour taking turns making increasingly more difficult shots, each time matching one another perfectly. A small crowd amassed watching them and cheering, and occasionally they looked at one another exchanging smiles. It was the most fun he could recall having in years. Eventually, they tired, and decided to call it a draw. When they shook hands, Nathaniel found himself not wanting to let her go. Ridiculous, he knew, the workings of a disinhibited mind. He did not even know her name.

“I am Erina,” she announced, as if reading his mind, “And that was… impressive.”

Nathaniel chuckled. “It is nice to officially meet your acquaintance, Lady Erina. I am Nathaniel.”

“You flatter me,” she answered with an embarrassed laugh.

“Is it working?” He did not know what possessed him, nor did he care.

“Perhaps.” Erina grinned playfully, then scowled at him again. “I still think you are a fool who is lucky I did not shoot him.”

“I never said I wasn’t,” he began, “A fool, that is. I do, however, feel rather lucky. It has been my pleasure not getting shot by such a lovely, competent woman.”

She laughed gently, darting her eyes away from his quickly and looking toward the ground where she kicked the toe of her boot into the soft, grassy dirt. After several moments passed, she looked back up at him, embarrassment gone from her features. “What are you doing this evening?”

“Nothing,” he answered quickly, though he could not shake the feeling that he was forgetting something. “Do you have something in mind?”

Erina grinned, eyes sparkling as she took his hand and led him away from the range, and toward the outskirts of the city. They climbed the steps that led to the top of the battlements on the walls surrounding Tantervale, green grassland extending off into the horizon. The sun had not yet begun to set, but it hung low in the sky, and the breeze had become cool with a hint of the approaching evening.

“So, Nathaniel,” she said as she crawled up to perch on the parapet, legs dangling over the edge. “Tell me about yourself.”

Moving forward to rest his elbows beside her on the parapet, not trusting his current balancing abilities to keep him from falling to his death, he asked, “What would you like to know?”

“Everything,” she answered.

Nathaniel obliged. They spent the next several hours talking, sharing stories of their troubled pasts. He told her of his childhood and his strained relationship with Father, of the Couslands and their hospitality. He explained how he’d been forced into a squireship in Starkhaven, but had not hated it as much as he expected. He even complained affectionately about Ben and Ser Rodolphe. In turn, Erina told him her own story, about how she’d grown up in an Alienage in Antiva City, and trained to become a Crow, one of the infamous assassins known for their skill and ruthlessness. She’d been disappointed when they turned her down, and so she left, hoping to find mercenary work to help her family get by.

“Why did the Crows reject you,” Nathaniel asked, “I can’t imagine that it was lack of skill.”

“They said that I was too headstrong and compassionate.” Erina chuckled. “Not exactly what one looks for in an assassin.”

“Perhaps not,” he said with a laugh of his own. Thankfully, the effects of the ale had begun to dissipate, and his thoughts came more clearly. “But they are desirable qualities for...other things.”

Erina turned abruptly to face him, smirking. “Yes? Like what, exactly?”

Nathaniel could not bring himself to answer, instead holding her gaze for what could have been an eternity. It was an odd sensation, he thought, to be so ridiculously attracted to someone he’d just met, so drawn to her that only a few hours left him hoping he could see her again. Catching himself staring at her for entirely too long, noticing the knowing smile that continued to twitch on her lips, he shook his head and looked out over the city.

“It is starting to get dark,” he said, clearing his throat.

“Is the big brave archer afraid of the dark?” She elbowed him.

“Not exactly, but I am just unfamiliar enough with the area, and just drunk enough that I do not trust myself to find my way back to the inn in one piece.”

“Then, I shall escort you,” Erina remarked cheerfully.

“You don’t have to--”

“I do.” Her words were serious as they left her lips, and he found himself unwilling to argue.

By the time they made it to the inn where he had been staying, the sun had set completely, stars twinkling brightly against the dark sky above. Erina entered with him, and he was glad to see that the inn was much more subdued than the tavern had been. He was grateful that Rodolphe and Ben still seemed to be absent as they would both no doubt tease him relentlessly for his drunken escapades. He was not certain if he intended to tell them.

“This is me,” Nathaniel stated softly, somberly as he pointed to his room.

“Oh,” Erina replied, tone resonating similarly to his. “Good.”

“I have had a lovely time,” he admitted, scratching the back of his head, “Much lovelier than I’ve been allowing myself to hope for.”

She smiled brightly. “Me too.”

Silence stretched on for eternity between them, as Nathaniel searched for the proper words to say. Finally, he found them. “Listen, I apologize for being so forward earlier. I was --”

He was not able to finish his apology, as Erina’s lips found their way to his, soft yet powerful, just as everything else about her seemed to be. He stumbled, back bumping into the door so that he was flush against it. With as much force as she had given him, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into him more closely, bending down to deepen the kiss, breathing in sharply as their tongues met, as if it were his first breath in years. Perhaps it was. Reaching behind him, Nathaniel turned the door knob and pushed open the door with his back, pulling Erina into the dark room with him. He caught a glimpse of her glittering smile in the light from the hallway just as she kicked the door closed behind her.

Nathaniel awoke to a pounding at the door, sunlight flickering directly through the closed curtains and into his eyes. Ben’s voice was muffled through the wooden door, calling his name repeatedly, Nathaniel’s head throbbing with each word, and again with each knock. He’d definitely had too much to drink, without question. Never again, he promised, massaging his temples as he turned to get out of bed. It was only then that he realized he was naked. His pulse quickened as he could hear Ben fiddling with the door knob.

“Shit. Erina,” He muttered and then turned over to where he expected her to be in the bed, but she was nowhere to be found. Had he imagined the entire night before? Had it been some ridiculous drunken dream? His heart sank at the thought, but he did not have time to be sad, and rushed back into bed, pulling the coverlet and sheets up over his head just as been burst through the door.

“Nate,” he shouted and tugged the covers down from off his head, “There you are. Rodolphe’s been looking all over the place for you. Said he wants to know what you thought of his joust.”

“What,” Nathaniel asked hoarsely, squinting his eyes in the still unwelcome light.

“You did go to his joust, didn’t you?”

“Of course I did,” he lied in his most annoyed tone.

“I didn’t,” Ben said, laughing mischievously, “Unlike you, I actually had a good time last night.”

Just as Ben finished his sentence, a petite figure emerged from the bath area of the room, auburn hair a disheveled mess, and clad in Nathaniel’s shirt. “Hey, Nathaniel I --”

She froze as she saw Ben, eyes darting nervously between the red-headed stranger and Nathaniel. A wide grin slowly stretched its way across the young man’s face, eyebrows raising so high up on his forehead they might as well have flown away.

“Ben,” Nathaniel snapped, pointing to the hallway, “Out.”

“Nate, you dog ,” Ben exclaimed excitedly, unmoving from his spot in the middle of the room.

Nathaniel glanced over at Erina, who smiled, and brought her hand up to cover her mouth. Thank the Maker she did not seem embarrassed. “Ben. Out,” he repeated, “Now.”

“Oh, right. Sorry,” he answered, flustered, clambering to leave the room and close the door behind him.

Once he was gone, Nathaniel sat up on the edge of the bed, so that his feet touched the cool stone floor, and brought his hands to his face. He sighed as he attempted to scrub away the remnants of sleep and hide any evidence of his shame. The bed moved beneath him and there was a warmth at his side, a weight on his shoulder, and he dropped his hands and looked to see Erina, leaning against him.

“So that’s Ben,” she remarked cheerfully, turning her face up to look at him, smiling.

“That’s Ben,” he sighed again.

She shrugged. “He seems… enthusiastic.”

“You have no idea.” Nathaniel laughed, trying his damndest to not stare at the woman. She was even more beautiful than she’d seemed the night before. He was relieved he had not simply dreamed her up.

“I hope I get to know him better,” Erina stated, returning her head to its spot on his shoulder.

“Me too,” he said as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her more closely to him, his eyes fixated on the dresser at the far end of the room, where a small, bronze music box sat alone. “Me, too.”

#dragon age #dragon age origins #dragon age awakening #nathaniel howe #nathaniel howe x cousland #cousland #my writing #update #temperance

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