#and i think it's actually quite difficult to truly become something inhumane. you have to have a certain level of flippancy or disregard for

[bluejayblueskies]

this may be an unpopular opinion, and i may end up eating my words in the weeks/months to come, but i don't think that arthur is following a corruption arc or losing his humanity. that's not to say that arthur is doing well or making good decisions, but i think there is an important distinction to be made between arthur slowly breaking down and making more morally dubious decisions and arthur losing his humanity, which to me is a very specific word that has a very specific meaning and that holds considerable weight in this podcast. here's why:

arthur’s rationale for killing larson that he presents to john is flimsy and, as we know, obscures his real motivation: larson's sacrifice of his daughter. arthur right now is driven by emotion, not logic, which is something that most of us can probably agree on but that i argue is a mark of humanity rather than indicative of its absence. feeling such emotions as the desire for revenge, fury, guilt, or even murderous intent does not make somebody less human. to be honest, i think the real mark of inhumanity would be either a lack of feeling altogether or a sort of amusement--ie, if arthur were chasing after larson for fun, solely because of the hunt or the thrill of the kill, or if he saw himself as so far above larson that killing larson means nothing. (i think that arthur is in fact projecting himself and his guilt onto larson, so while he calls larson monstrous etc., he doesn’t see himself as a degree above larson, like a god would to a human, though that’s straying away from metatextual analysis a bit and into headcanon territory).

arthur is messy right now, yes, and all over the place emotionally. he strikes me as unstable, on the verge of a breakdown, and not thinking clearly. he's a man who's been through more than anyone should have to go through, who's had to make impossible decisions for the sake of survival. there is, in my opinion, a great deal of trauma sitting on his shoulders, and really the main thing that surprises me right now about his actions is that it took this long for him to reach his breaking point. he has a strong, never-give-up attitude that has helped him survive and keep going, but he's had to face now the fact that a) in order to survive he has had to make otherwise immoral decisions, such as killing and eating faust and b) that sometimes, no matter what you do, you still lose the things you care about (ep. 20, coda, and the period with yellow). i keep coming back to this quote from yellow in ep. 23:

You imprisoned me, you took me from my rightful place as king, and stuck me inside this prison. You are a murderer, Arthur, you are a monster. You are no better than Wallace, no better than the foulness you murdered in that pit! I am not your friend; I am not John. And I never will be. I am nothing like you. And he is dead.

...

This is your fault, all of this. I hope you know that.

and thinking about how hearing this must have affected arthur. even though yellow is not quite john, he’s also not not john, and arthur knows this (exemplified by arthur slipping and calling john ‘yellow’ in ep. 24). arthur cares about john, even when they’re fighting or hurting one another, and i think hearing all of this right after finding out that larson sacrificed his daughter really dealt a blow to his mental state. all of arthur’s drive right now hinges on his emotions--his anger at larson and, i would argue, his feelings regarding the murder of faust and what that means for him. arthur may think that he is losing his humanity, but he’s not; he’s just going down a bad path, one lined with hurt and trauma and guilt and desperation, and eventually, that path will reach the bottom and arthur can begin to rebuild from there.

TL:DR - i disagree with the interpretation that arthur is losing his humanity or following a corruption arc because to me his actions as of late seem rooted in emotions, trauma, and increasing mental instability inching towards an inevitable breakdown. humanity is, to me, a specific word with a specific meaning that is important to this podcast, and i think it’s best to look at what we mean when we say that arthur is losing his humanity and consider whether or not he’s actually becoming less human, or rather reacting to things in a way that is in fact very human indeed.

[havethetimeofyourstyles]

in which you’re prince harry’s personal bodyguard.

a/n: hi angels! i’m SO EXCITED to be finally sharing this story, and i’m really proud of this piece! like it’s genuinely one of my favorites i’ve ever written and one of my babies, so i can’t wait to hear what you all think! this story is inspired by gold rush by taylor swift, and this story immediately came to me once i heard the song. so, enjoy and please reblog and leave feedback! 

thank you to my best beta and friend tina @sunflowers-styles​ and miss zoey @serendipitystyles​ who screamed with me when i just started writing it, ily both! 

WORD COUNT: 24.7k of prince!harry x guard!yn (it’s gonna be a rollercoaster <3) 

WARNINGS: ANGST (genuinely a lot of it), smut, mentions of death and disease 

COME INTO MY INBOX AND LETS TALK ABOUT ‘SINKING SHIPS’ i’d love to know your thoughts! 

pls rb to share! <3

.・。.・゜

‘Eyes like sinking ships

On waters so inviting

I almost jump in.’ 

With a slight groan, you were taken out of your slumber by the sunlight that was seeping through your curtains. The birds were chirping away quite loudly this morning—acting like there weren’t people who were sleeping at seven in the morning, but early birds get the worm, right?

You sat up, stretching your arms towards the ceiling as you let out an inhumane sound that was very ‘unladylike’ before freshening up in the restroom. After putting on your regular and daily uniform: black slacks, white crisp shirt with a black tie, and black formal shoes—you opted out on wearing a blazer since you were going to be out for most of the day—before you headed towards the kitchen that felt like miles away because the Royal House was huge. 

The chefs were already up, bright and early, ready to feed the Royal family. The aroma of French toast and sautéed vegetables filled your senses, making your mouth water. 

“Morning, everyone!” You greeted happily once you entered the kitchen. 

“Goodmorning, Y/N!” The chefs welcomed you into their kitchen in sync. You softly smiled, walking over to the fruit basket at the edge of the marble counter, grabbing a banana and orange before walking over to the island and leaning your elbows on it as you watched the chefs cook. 

You always loved watching them work on their art, it was quite mesmerizing—the way they sautéed the vegetables, tossing the contents into the air was always something you loved ever since you were young. They were always so proud and humble about their work, presenting it with a satisfied smile as satiated empty stomachs. 

Suddenly, the side door opened, revealing Maria tugging on the wagon that carried basketfuls of fresh vegetables and fruits. You quickly walked towards her, grabbing the basket from the wagon to set it down on the counter. The baskets were always quite heavy, and you always made sure to help her out every morning since she wakes up at sunrise to pick out and wash the produce for the day. 

“Thank you, my dear,” Maria said, smiling. 

“Of course, Maria. These are beautiful.” You handpicked vegetables and fruits. “One day, I’ll wake up earlier to help you out in the morning, so you’re not all by yourself,” you suggested. Maria was like a mother to you, and you truly looked up to her ever since you started to remember things. You never really knew who your real mom was because she had passed away when you were just a year old, so you saw Maria as a motherly figure. 

You remembered when you first visited the Royal House; your father, Josiah, used to be a stableman and would bring you to work with him every day, occasionally letting you ride on the horses with him if it was allowed. Josiah and Maria had a mutual liking towards one another, but neither of them had acted upon it. They had just simply acknowledged the fact they had feelings for one another. So, you were around Maria a lot, and it wasn’t forced because you genuinely took a liking towards her and she started becoming a female figure in your life that you never really had. 

“Oh, you’re so sweet, but that’s not needed. I know how exhausting your day is, so get those few extra hours of sleep, okay?” She raised her brows at you, and you chuckled, nodding your head at her. “And besides, I’ve actually got some help…” she trailed off in suspense. 

It was your turn to raise your brows at her. “Really? And who might that be?” A tint of pinkness hit Maria’s cheeks as she looked down, occupying herself by taking the produce out of the basket. 

“Just…Nathaniel.” 

“Nathaniel, really?” 

“Yeah, he’s nice, yeah? Handsome. Funny. Kind,” she started to sound like she was convincing you, but you really didn’t need all that much convincing because you actually knew him.

“I know Nathaniel, but thanks for the little recap,” you joked, chuckling as Maria blushed. “So, do you like him?” You asked. 

“I mean…I don’t know. Maybe,” she admitted shyly. You gave her an encouraging smile because you knew that she was only shy to confess the truth because she had been in love with your father. 

“Good—that’s good. Well, if you are taking a liking towards him, don’t run away from your feelings,” you told her sternly as if you were the mother now. “You deserve to be happy and in love!” 

“Suppose you’re right. I just feel…bad.” 

“Don’t be. He would want you to be happy, I promise,” you reminded Maria. 

You could definitely understand why she felt bad about the fact that she was interested in Nathaniel. Maria and Josiah were in love, once upon a time, but ever since your father passed away two years ago, due to his heart condition, it was difficult for Maria to move on from the love of her life. With regret wilting down on her face, she asked herself why she didn’t bother to do anything about her love for him, and she didn’t know if it was the right thing to do to be interested in someone else. However, you constantly reminded her that Josiah wanted you two to have a great life, containing a lot of love and laughter. 

Looking at the wall clock above the chocolate brown cabinets, you realized that it was a bit past seven, so duties for the day were calling. You kissed Maria on the cheek, telling her that you’ll see her during lunch before bidding the rest of the staff goodbye as you headed out of the kitchen

Your clad black shoes clicked against the shiny and polished tiled floor, echoing the corridor of the Royal House as you walked towards the West Wing of the house; the staff and employees all lived on the East Wing, and it was quite a walk from one end to the other. 

Knocking on the tall and heavy door, you heard absolute silence on the other side, which wasn’t abnormal. So, you knocked once more, hearing no movement before you allowed yourself inside of the bedroom of the Prince. 

As you expected, he was sprawled out onto his large bed, too large for one person, with his curls covering his forehead. His mouth was slightly agape with puffs of breaths coming out as he was in deep sleep. You opened the long curtains, letting the sunshine enter his room before walking over to the side of his bed, placing the two fruits on his bedside table so he could fuel himself as he’s getting ready; you gently tapped him on the shoulder. 

“Your Highness, It’s time to wake up,” you softly said. With no response, you shook his shoulder a bit harder to get him out of his deep slumber. “Your Highness, it’s past seven.” 

The Prince groaned, eyes still closed as he began to writhe around the bed. You took a step back from the bed, waiting for him to wake up fully before greeting him. He buried his face into the pillow, refusing to budge, as an exhausted muffled groan came out of his mouth. 

Once his eyes were fully open and he was aware of his surroundings and consciousness, he turned his head towards you, giving you a look as if to momentarily remember who you were; you gave him a smile to start off his day. 

“Good Morning—agh!” You let out an unexpected squeal, cut off by the Prince’s large arms wrapped around your waist, bringing you down onto the bed with him. His lips immediately attacked your neck and face, peppering your skin with his affection. You laughed softly, trying to keep your voice down in case anyone heard you, but you couldn’t help it because it tickled. “Your Highness!” You pushed his body away from yours, and you knew he only pulled back because of the name you had called him. 

He pouted, looking at you with puppy eyes. “I told you to stop calling me that, Princess,” he joked slightly. 

You raised your brows, mouth slightly open as you playfully patted his chest. “And I told you to stop calling me that, Harry.” 

“Then I’ll stop calling you that once you stop calling me ‘Your Highness,’” he said in a mocking tone before he raised his brows to see what you were going to respond with because he knew that you loved being called ‘Princess’ even if you were far from actually becoming one. You two would have these playful arguments on which nicknames to call one another, and ‘Princess’ and ‘Your Highness’ were both a bit of an inside joke now. 

You simply just rolled your eyes. “Not fit to be a Princess.” Harry’s arms wrapped tighter around your waist as both of your heads rested against the same pillow. You loved mornings like these, and although it was unusual to be sleeping in different rooms, it had to happen under certain circumstances. 

“You definitely are fit enough to be a Princess because you’ll be mine…soon…one day,” he lightened up the air, pressing a kiss to your cheek and forehead. “Perfect for me, I swear.” You smiled admiringly at the Prince, feeling incredibly grateful for him and his presence. 

For five years, your love for him had only increased when you thought that your heart couldn’t get any bigger. But Harry somehow made it happen; he filled your beating organ with so much love and devotion, making you feel so overwhelmed with happiness that you felt like you could burst any minute. You’ve known Harry since you were a little girl, but you didn’t play with him much since you had to stay close to Josiah. But when you did, you two would always go riding together; it was an innocent and pure friendship, and even when you were younger, you would find yourself missing your friend, who just so happened to be the Prince of the country. 

Five-year-old Y/N simply understood that he was a Prince, but you understood it just like the Disney movies. So, you and seven-year-old Harry would play Prince and Princess for fun. Every morning you would tell Josiah to dress you up in a pretty dress because your “Prince was waiting on the West Wing,” as you said. 

As the years went by and you two played less of Prince and Princess, but you and Harry were still inseparable. He was your best friend—still is, and you couldn’t be more happy that you two had never drifted off into the fog that vanishes every afternoon. 

With how close you were to Prince Harry, you realized you had feelings for him when you were thirteen, and it wasn’t until you were twenty when you two got together. Harry had told you that he’s liked you since he was seven, and fifteen years later, he finally had the balls to tell you. Typically for some, it wouldn’t be the most ideal relationship since your blood didn’t bleed royalty, but you’d rather have him in private rather than displaying your relationship to the entire world, especially his family. 

The bubble that was his room, was your hideout. The sanctuary where you felt most comfortable because it was where he slept in, as his scent roamed around the room, making it feel like home. You loved how you immediately felt safe and calm when you opened his bedroom room door, especially when you saw him peacefully sleeping; it was your favorite thing to do. 

Harry didn’t mind, either. He knew how brutal his family could be if they ever found out about your relationship with him, and no matter how much he wanted to shout his love for you from the top of his lungs to the world, they truly didn’t need that because the only people who were the most important in this relationship were you and Harry. As long as the two of you knew that you were in love with one another, that’s all that mattered. 

He was there for you for most of your life, and with a clueless mind, you didn’t know where you would be without him when your father had died. Since Josiah was working for the Royal Family with your occasional help, you had thought the Queen and King were going to kick you out because you had no place or purpose staying in the Royal House. But luckily, Harry quickly proposed the idea of you being his personal bodyguard. Someone who just followed him around while making him seem less lonely because the other men that were his guards before rarely said a word to him when he was out. 

The Dutch and Duchess, and especially the Queen, were a bit skeptical, but let him have his way to avoid any sort of resentment in the future. You were ecstatic and thanked him profusely for letting you stay at the Royal House, but he brushed it off, telling you that he would’ve asked a million times more until they said yes.

 So, for two years now, you’d been Harry’s personal bodyguard, and you thought it was the easiest job. One, because even if you weren’t his bodyguard, you’d protect him with your life, putting yourself in front of him when chaos would come his way. Two, he made the job seem fun and it didn’t even seem like a job because you two laughed and messed around from time to time, not actually doing work. And three, who doesn’t love working with their partner?

“Is that a promise?” You tested him, seeing if he was willing to promise you that he was going to marry you. It didn’t seem possible if you were honest. Either he would have to run away from home or you two wouldn’t get married at all, and just stay together, which you wouldn’t mind either. 

“That’s definitely a promise. You know me—don’t say shit just to say it,” he said, a smug smile on his face. 

“Okay, well. Whenever that day comes, I’ll be waiting to become Mrs. Styles.” 

“Princess Styles,” he corrected, and you breathed out a chuckle, shaking your head a tad bit as you surrendered your argument on him calling you that. 

You snuggled closer to him, enjoying his presence and warmth; and for a moment, you had forgotten yours and Harry’s responsibilities for the day; you just enjoyed this small and quiet moment you two had together that only usually happened in the mornings. But you cherished them nonetheless. 

Nearly drifting off to sleep, you jolted to stay awake. You looked at Harry to see him looking at you with a small but fond smile on his face, eyes gleaming ever so brightly as the sun gently cast its light through his window from above his bed. 

You gave him a quick kiss to his lips and nose before getting out of his hold, earning a groan from him. You stood beside the bed, smoothing out any wrinkles that creased on your clothing. 

“C’mon, we have so much to do today! Plus, we’ve already exceeded morning bedtime hours.” You grabbed his arm, tugging him towards the edge of the bed. He sighed, resisting as he pulled back. 

“Don’t wanna do anything today. Just wanna lay in bed all day with my Princess.” His words came out muffled as he spoke into the pillow. Your cheeks heated up as you held his arm; you wished that you’d get the chance to spend the entire day with him, doing nothing instead of keeping a distance from him throughout the day. But alas, being with him for most of the day was still what you considered a wonderful day. 

“Let’s go,” you softly insisted. You kneeled down onto the floor beside him, pecking his face all over. The left side of his face was smashed against the mattress, but you could see the smile forming onto his face as you kissed his cheeks. “Get up, dreamy.” You used your nickname on him, and you realized that was a bad idea since you were trying to get him out of bed. 

Harry suddenly perked up, smirking before he turned around to lay on his back. He pulled your arm, hauling you to lay on top of him; you giggled once you landed on him, and he connected his lips with yours, kissing you passionately and sensually. Your legs were straddling him, and you unconsciously ground against his sleep pants, feeling his bulge grow harder and bigger. Harry softly moaned into your mouth, slightly bucking his hips upward towards your center. 

You pulled away, about to tell him that you couldn’t do this right now, but once you saw his flushed face and swollen pink lips, not to mention his aching hard-on that was rubbing against your thigh, you decided against it. 

And Harry knew you all too well to know that you were going to say something but held back. So, instead, he grimaced and wrapped his arms around your waist before trailing them down to your ass, giving it a squeeze over your pants. 

“Think we got time for this?” He raised his brows teasingly at you, and you bit your lip. 

Grinding your hips against him was your way of giving him your answer, your mouth met his ear as you whispered, “All the time in the world for you to fuck me.” You nibbled on his earlobe before moving your lips down to the spot under his ear, resulting in a moan slipping out of his mouth. 

He flipped you two over, now his turn to hover over you. The Prince gave you a certain look that you knew all too well; it was a look of certainty like he had all the time in the world to have his way with you, and he definitely wasn’t going to shy away from it. 

“Wanna feel me? Think you could handle me?” He challenged teasingly. His voice was low, raspy, and deep—much deeper now since it was morning and he’d just woken up. But the way he spoke sent a shiver down your neck, making you jerk, causing a mess in your panties. 

“Know I could handle you. I’ve been handling you for years now,” you smirked. A flushed tint rose onto Harry’s cheeks; he always seemed to feel himself get giddy over the fact that you two had been together for years, and hearing it come out of your mouth made it much better. 

“Let’s see about that.” He began to kiss down your neck and body as you relaxed into the pillow, completely enjoying his lips and body on you. 

And just like all the other days, it was going to be a long morning. But the early birds get the worm, right? 

Harry headed towards the dining room where his family was eating breakfast. They all looked up at him suspiciously, like they knew about his morning escapade with his Princess, and he was nearly gutted because they had gotten caught, but they simply just looked at him and continued eating. 

“Morning everyone,” he relaxed, clearing his throat as he took his seat, unbuttoning his black suit jacket; a light pink button-down shirt clad on his tattooed torso. The servers that had been serving them for decades, Mariah and Deborah, poured him a tall glass of water and set down his mug of coffee. He thanked them, and they gave him a smile, always surprised to receive a ‘thank you’ in the Royal House. But Harry wasn’t snobby or arrogant, he had manners and was polite. 

“A bit late to breakfast, Harry, and you didn’t show for morning tea,” the Queen herself had pointed out. Elaine hadn’t even made eye contact with him, she just continued eating as she sat at the head of the table. 

Harry froze for a moment to look at his sister to see if she’ll help, but Gemma just raised her brows, not knowing how to back him up. 

“Sorry, Nan. Couldn’t sleep last night, so I slept in a little bit,” Harry lied. 

“Hmm, and where was that bodyguard of yours to wake you up? Isn’t she supposed to wake you?” She wondered, but by her tone, it was like she knew already; and Harry really hoped that wasn’t the case. 

“Uh, yeah. She did, actually, and I told her to give me a moment. Guess that turned into forty-five…” he curled his lips in, containing the smirk that was begging to show through. His cheeks formed a tint, and he quickly grabbed his glass of water to cool down and to cover his flustered face. 

The two of you had stayed in bed longer than anticipated, and when it was only supposed to be a quickie, Harry took his time with you the first round but decided to go two more rounds, fucking you hard until your teeth were biting the sheets and screaming into the pillow. You had to cover all of the marks that littered his neck, but the others that only you were able to see were casually resting under his clothes. 

Harry shifted in his seat, remembering how your eyes looked up at him as you kissed down his body to wrap your lips around his cock. His mind was spiraling, immediately thinking filthy things your mouth and body could do to him; that was until Gemma had kicked his foot under the table that got him out of his head. 

He looked at her, flicked his head at her, a way to ask ‘what was that for?’ She tilted her head towards the Queen as Elaine was still talking to Harry. 

“Okay, just wanted to make sure she’s doing something right. If not, you let me know, and we’ll have her removed from the House,” she advised quite sternly. 

“There’s no need for that, Nan. There hasn’t been a problem for the last two years she’s been my guard, so there certainly won’t be,” Harry explained quickly. He didn’t know if his eagerness sold his disagreement, or if it helped his case with his secret relationship with you. But he didn’t want you to leave his side, let alone, leave the House. He wanted you here, and if having you in private was the only way, where you two had to sneak around and kiss behind closed doors, then he didn’t mind that.

Elaine nodded, letting go of the subject before talking to the Dutch, Harry’s father, about some of the duties that needed to be completed today. Harry let out a sigh of relief once the Queen’s attention wasn’t on him anymore. He ate his breakfast in silence, thankful that the conversation he had with his grandmother didn’t go any further than a bit of scolding; he would say it was going to be a good day if they went a morning without Harry marching off early from breakfast. 

Breakfast went on quickly after that, thankfully. Mariah and Deborah began to clean the table before setting up a few cups of coffee for his mother, father, and the Queen. Harry and Gemma excused themselves, saying they had a few things to do for the day before they quickly walked out of the kitchen. 

The siblings rounded the corner and walked until they were far enough before Gemma spoke, not wanting their family to hear their conversation from the echo because of how large their home was. 

“You really need to be careful, H—the both of you, I mean it. Staying in with Y/N can’t happen consistently—I feel like she’s starting to get suspicious. ” Gemma started. She had a concerned expression as the part in between her brows creased. 

Harry sighed, nodding his head. “Yeah, sorry ‘bout that. We’ll try to be more careful. It’s just hard, y’know.” 

“I understand. I get it, I really do,” Gemma sighed before chuckling as if a realization had popped into her head. “Hell, I’m doing the same thing, but I’m just better at hiding it,” she chuckled.” It was true; Gemma was in a relationship with one of the servers—Sebastian. 

They’d been together for seven years, ever since she was twenty-three. She kept it a secret for three years until she decided to tell Harry, which of course, Harry was ecstatic to hear the news—only because he had just told his sister about his own relationship, which you two had only been together for a year at that time. 

Gemma and Harry were supportive of one another, looking out and covering up for each other because at the end of the day, they were on the same side and in the same situation; neither of them wanted the other to get caught because there would be worse consequences coming from the Queen, and the two tried to avoid those said consequences as much as possible. 

Naturally, Gemma loved you. You’d grown closer to her and seen her as a best friend, someone you could always go to and count on. The appreciation you had for her was vast, and you thanked her almost every day for how grateful you were that she was so supportive in your relationship with Harry. 

“Thanks for kicking me back there, though. Didn’t need another morning where Nan flames my ass,” he scoffed, shaking his head slightly. 

Gemma laughed. “Yeah, don’t know why she’s picking fights with you. She used to love you, wonder what changed,” she wondered, genuinely thinking what the cause may be. 

“Don’t know what it is, but if you know, tell me because I can’t always eat my meals stressed because she’s always onto me.” Gemma giggled. “Anyways, gotta go. I’ll be at the charity event until late afternoon, and I gotta find my girl. I’ll see you later?” 

“Yeah, I’ll see you. I’ll wait for you to eat dinner, so you’re not alone. Have a good day, little brother, be safe.” The Styles siblings hugged, a nice and warm embrace that showed much appreciation and respect they had for the other. 

“You as well, big sister.” 

Harry walked in the opposite direction as Gemma, smiling to himself as his heart felt so full. He was lucky to have a sister that was so encouraging and caring, and he always made sure to give the same love back to her because she needed it. Their parents were always a bit strict on them, but he was sure they had to have gotten that attitude from the Queen—well, at least his father. His mother, Anne, was a sweetheart. For some odd reason, she didn’t show much love to her kids because of Elaine. When they were kids, Nan would always get on Anne’s case about how she shouldn’t show them much affection or treat them like babies because they needed to learn discipline and from their own mistakes. 

Walking over to the East Wing and past the kitchen, Harry headed towards the living area, where some of the staff, including you, were hanging out, waiting for the Royal Family to finish their breakfast. One of his father’s guards immediately stood up, making the rest hastily stand up to greet the Prince. 

“Your Highness…” The staff greeted in sync; the men bowed as the women curtsied as Harry stood in the doorway of the living room. His eyes found yours, watching you curtsy; and on your way up, your head perked up, shyly smirking at him. Harry’s heart flipped as he puckered his lips to the side, containing his smile; you two would always laugh about these kinds of greetings, and sometimes Harry would greet you the same way because after all, were his Princess. He wasn’t one to be formal with greetings, and if it were up to him, he would tell the entire staff to stop greeting him like that, but he didn’t make the rules around here. 

“Goodmorning, everyone,” he greeted back. “Hope everyone has a great day. I should get going, though. Y/N?” He looked at you and slightly raised his brows. You walked across the living room and past him, standing before him before making sure to give him a smile. He bid everyone goodbye before you two walked alongside one another. 

The two of you headed towards the large front door in silence. You occasionally glanced up, but quickly averted your eyes towards the path, and Harry was also looking at you through his peripheral vision, smiling to himself as he saw how many times you glanced up at him. The silver Rolls Royce was waiting for the both of you at the end of the steps with the back door open with his driver, Benjamin, holding the door open. Harry gestured for you to get into the car first like the gentleman that he was. 

“Hi, Benjamin,” you greeted the middle-aged man with a smile. 

“Hello, Y/N,” he responded, tilting his hat down. 

“Thank you, Benjamin,” Harry shook his hand appreciatively. Benjamin had been Harry’s driver for the past ten years. He used to be his father’s driver, but when Harry grew older and was able to go to events and out on his own, they assigned Benjamin to be Harry’s driver. 

“You’re welcome, Prince Harry,” he slightly bowed before closing the door after Harry slipped into the car. 

Benjamin drove to the facility where the charity event was held. The privacy compartment screen between the driver and back seat was up; the fancy car seemed more like a movie theater with so much leg space and a middle console between the seats with a blank privacy screen in front of you. It screamed expensive, and Rolls Royce was the company that helped the Royal Family get from point A to point B as their entire underground garage was filled with these types of vehicles. 

You and Harry had about half an hour to chat and touch one another, so you unclicked your seatbelt, quickly moving towards his seat. He smiled, unclicked his seatbelt before letting you half-sit on his lap, your legs rested on his thighs, and he pulled the seatbelt over the both of you and clicked the metal buckle before pulling the seat belt strap behind him so it wouldn’t get in your way. 

A sigh came out of both of your mouths, enjoying this moment that felt short, but was cherished. You cuddle into his side, resting your head against his shoulder as his arms were tightly wrapped around you. You could feel his heart pounding through his chest, and you enjoyed the sound, knowing it was maintaining a steady heartbeat for you. 

Harry kissed your forehead, lips delicately brushing across your skin, making you flustered. You looked up at him as he smiled down at you, the two of you smiling like idiots before he took his lips in with yours. 

“What’s it like to grow up always being so beautiful?” He suddenly asked, very charmingly, might you add. He couldn’t get enough of you and how stunning you looked every single day; no matter how much you disagreed with him, he always thought you were the most gorgeous person on this Earth.

You smiled, looking, and studying his face. Some strands of his hair had fallen into place against his forehead; you pushed them back, softly kissing his forehead. 

“Could say the same for you. You always have a beautiful heart and a lovely face.” You grazed his jaw with your thumb, his stubble scratching against your finger. 

A breathy chuckle fell from his lips. “Love you, my Princess. Dream girl, I swear.”

“And I love you, Your Highness. Love you like crazy,” you softly giggled, kissing his jaw. “How was breakfast, by the way?” 

“The usual. Gemma said Nan is starting to get suspicious, so we have to be careful, can’t have too many mornings in,” he explained sadly. You slightly pouted, but quickly covered up your sad expression with a neutral face, not wanting to make him feel bad because he had no control over his grandmother. 

“Okay…” you agreed, nodding your head. 

“Hey, I’m sorry,” he said genuinely. “Know this is hard, but we’ll figure it out, alright?” His hand cupped your cheek, gently caressing your soft skin as he looked deeply into your eyes. His green eyes held an immense amount of care and love, just like his heart, and just being in his view of vision was an honor enough. 

You nodded, blinking back the tears that had quickly formed. “I know we will. Don’t mind having you to myself, though,” you chuckled. The corners of his lips turned up as his dimple popped out. You took your finger and poked his dimple, something you had been doing ever since you were younger. 

“I don’t mind it either, but sometimes the sneaking around sucks, doesn’t it?” His brows slightly furrowed, clear frustration expressed on his face. You took your thumb and smoothed out his stressed and wrinkled forehead, and he immediately relaxed. 

“It does, but if that’s what it takes for me to be with you, then that’s how it’s gonna be.”

Harry deeply sighed, resting his head against your neck. You lifted your head up, so he had more room to perfectly fit against you as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. Butterflies soared in your stomach once you felt his lips against your neck, pressing soft and gentle kisses to your skin. After all these years, his touch still made you giddy while goosebumps rose on your skin. His kisses didn’t lead to anything more as they simply spoke the words of admiration and gratitude. 

“Hmm, don’t deserve you,” he mumbled against your skin. 

“Yeah, you do. Deserve love and happiness more than anything, and if I’m the one to provide it to you, then that’s all I need in life.” He pulled his head back, coming face-to-face with you now as your words had really meant something. Your hand grazed his cheek, feeling his soft but yet somewhat stubbled skin. 

“I love you so much. Genuinely think my heart is going to explode full with my love for you.” He took your hand that was on his face in his, giving the back of your hand a kiss before placing your palm against his heart. You felt his heart beating fast, hard, and it was all for you. “You have my heart in the palm of your hand.” His actions were literal, and you loved how he always had a way with his words. “Full of love for and from you.” 

You smiled, leaning forward to kiss him as your hand was still against his chest. For the rest of the car ride, you two relished in one another’s touch; it felt nice to be with one another outside of the Royal House where you didn’t have to hide behind corners or in secret passageways. 

When the car came to a smooth stop, you quickly unclicked the seat belt and got off of Harry, giving him a peck to his lips before situating yourself in your own seat. Benjamin opened Harry’s door and you let yourself out on your own side, quickly jogging around the car to stand next to Harry. 

A line of Rolls Royces were parked behind the vehicle you were in previously, and five guards, including you, were surrounding Harry as you all walked inside of the banquet room. You were standing in front of Harry, between two guards, while the other two were slightly behind the Prince, making sure he was safely boxed in between you all. 

Quite a few gasps were let out once people saw who had just walked in, and the volume in the room had increased. People were starting to walk towards you all, bowing and curtsying to the Prince as he said his hellos to everyone. Straight ahead, you noticed a woman running towards you, and you knew that wasn’t safe at all, considering this was a children’s charity event and you had the Prince right behind you. 

“Prince Harry-” her arms reached forward and she gained a little air, jumping a tad bit, but you had immediately stopped her, making sure she did no harm to the royalty. 

“Ma’am, please step back,” you stood in front of her like a brick wall, pushing her slightly as she stumbled back a bit. Her face had gone red, stepping aside; Harry softly smiled at her, waving his hand. You turned around briefly to see if Harry was okay, and a small smile appeared on his face, nodding at you to proceed. 

The group of guards walked Harry to one of the tables a group of kids were sat at. Harry told the guards that he was okay and that they could stand back until he was ready to leave. The four guards, including you, separated along the wall behind the Prince. 

You observed the room, noticing that there were a few photographers, clicking away at the charity event, making sure they get Prince Harry in their shot, along with volunteer workers and some parents at the event with their phones out, snapping pictures of him. You watched Harry interact with the children, helping them build legos with an enthusiastic smile on his face; he would high-five them, telling them that they did an amazing job building the ship before taking his phone out and snapping a picture of the wonderful sets the kids had built. 

Your heart warmed at the sight, and you couldn’t help but think about Harry being the father of your children because he would be the best dad; he would treat them so sweetly, spoil them rotten, and support them in letting them be whoever they’d like to be. A sudden warmth hit your face as you curled your lips into your mouth, hiding your smile—you suddenly thought about being pregnant and how Harry would be so gentle with you as he touched and kissed your stomach. 

With your leg shaking as you stood, you were getting jitters as you daydreamed. One of the guards noticed that you couldn’t stand still, so he slightly nudged your shoulder with his, bringing you out of your pleasant daydream. You looked up at Earl, raising your brows before he asked if you were okay. You nodded your head, standing straighter and placing your arms behind your back, interlocking your hands as you continued to watch how Harry’s smile brightened up while playing with the children. 

Harry absolutely loved charity events, not because they gave him good press but because every time he had gone to one, he would forget that there were cameras around him. Being and spending time with the kids had made him so happy, and the children seemed to enjoy their time with him as well, so that’s all that mattered to him. 

The charity event was being hosted by a foundation that helped kids who lacked a certain connection with their youthfulness because their parents didn’t have the money to get their kids toys or bring them to amusement parks. The foundation was a non-profit organization that simply organized donations to be used towards the children. They hosted toy drives every month, picnics every other Saturday, and sometimes Disney trips every six months if they reached their donation goal. 

Harry was all for donating to them, and this foundation was one of the five organizations for children that he was a member of and was very active with them throughout. He was very passionate about helping the children out, and he wanted them to have a nice childhood, helping them outweigh the good from the bad. His natural liking towards kids in general very much helped him easily bond with them. 

After a few hours, making sure every child got his attention, he was ready to leave. He didn’t leave without saying a small speech because it was expected; thanking everyone for donating and supporting this foundation, and he also thanked the kids for playing with him, which he earned many cheers from the young ones. 

Once he got off stage, he made eye contact with you, telling you that he was ready, and you headed towards him, the other guards followed after you. Just like you arrived, the guards boxed Harry in safely as he bid everyone goodbye. Everyone waved as a series of farewells were scattered across the room, sad to see the Prince go. Once you all were outside the venue, Benjamin was waiting by the passenger door. From the three hours Harry had been at the event, news had spread out like wildfire that the Prince was attending the event, so there was a swarm of paparazzi waiting outside the venue. 

The box of guards that were surrounding Harry closed in tighter since you had to get through the crowds. Harry, being the polite prince that he was, said hi to everyone as they reached out to hold his hand. But he rarely let anyone touch him because of an incident he had six months ago when he had reached over to shake someone’s hand, but they had taken advantage of the opportunity and harshly yanked him forward, making him stumble. Being frightened by that, he informed his guards to not let anyone touch him after that. He wasn’t being obnoxious or a typical ‘no one can touch me because I’m the Prince’ kind of guy, it was simply for his safety. You absolutely hated that someone was out to hurt him, and it pained you to see how shaken up he was that day. If the Prince had actually gotten hurt that day, there would be massive consequences for that person, but anyone would risk their lives to feel his touch. 

Once you were close to Benjamin, Harry let you get into the car first, but Benjamin stopped you. With a confused look on your face, you asked if everything was okay while Harry asked if there was something wrong. Benjamin leaned down to whisper in Harry’s ear, and you furrowed your brows, suddenly becoming suspicious as you watched them. Benjamin pulled back and Harry deeply sighed, shaking his head. 

“Y/N is my personal guard, though,” Harry mentioned. 

“Yes, but this was a direct message from the Queen herself. I’m only delivering the message, Your Highness. I don’t want to lose my job if I don’t comply,” Benjamin explains sadly. There was clear stress on his face, saddening him that he has to go against the Prince’s orders, but he couldn’t afford to lose his job when he has a family. And besides, it’s the Queen—everyone follows her orders. 

“Okay. Thank you, Benjamin,” Harry said, and Benjamin bowed. 

Harry turned towards you, leaning down to whisper into your ear just as Benjamin did to him. “Nan said that I have to take one of the other guards to ride back to the House with me. Specifically said, ‘Have the other guard come back with Harry, don’t care who it is.’ She told Benjamin that she wouldn’t be happy if he’d let us ride together. Fuckin’ ridiculous.” Harry pulled back, rolling his eyes. You simply nodded, knowing you couldn’t comfort him in any way since you were still in public, so you moved out of the way and stepped aside. 

Harry gave you a quick smile before turning his head to one of the guards, asking if he could join him. They quickly said yes, and safely got into the car. The rest of the guards waited until the car door was closed before walking towards the cars they arrived in. You slipped into the car, the one you didn’t arrive in, as you watched the one with your Prince inside drive away and towards the Royal House. 

Sighing, you looked out the window and watched the road and houses pass by. The Queen had never really taken a liking to you—never really made the effort to talk to you. You were the closest person to Harry, physically, since you were his bodyguard, but all she had ever done was question your actions when you’d been doing your job correctly, according to the instructions and demands from Prince Harry. 

But the worry and anxieties had increased because Elaine had become more suspicious than she was last year. Had she found out about your relationship with the Prince? You two had been doing well at hiding it besides this morning. And you had been good, denying Harry’s wishes to stay in up until this morning. But every day, it got more difficult hiding your love and affection towards the Prince. The word ‘no’ coming from his beautiful mouth as he would stare at you with those captivating emerald green eyes as he would plead to spend more time with him in his comfortable bed; the word completely vanished from your head. 

You wished the situation was different, but for now, you only hoped that things would get better from here. 

Once the car was parked in front of the large cemented steps that led up to the front door of the Royal House, Harry sighed, thanking Benjamin for driving him as well as Nico for accompanying him on the ride back. They both bowed, saying ‘you’re welcome’ before Harry let himself out and up those steps. Benjamin quickly reminded him that the Queen would like to see him when he arrived home, making Harry dread the conversation. 

He walked slowly towards the front door that was opened by two of the front gate guards. Saying a quick ‘hello’ to them, he walked towards the Queen’s lair, where she always prevailed when she said she needed to have a conversation with someone. 

The hallway leading to the double doors always made Harry anxious, ever since he was a little boy. He hated how dimly lit the hallway always was, and he never understood why she never wanted to put lights in this hallway. Probably to match her heart, Harry thought, but immediately took back the thought because he shouldn’t think that way about his grandmother, better yet, the Queen. 

Taking a deep breath, his shaky hand knocked on the door, hearing ‘Enter’ from the Queen from inside, and Harry opened the door. His grandmother was sitting at her large desk chair that was lined like a gold antique frame and was drinking tea out of her teacup that was passed down from generations. 

“Your Majesty,” Harry bowed, greeting his Nan. She placed her teacup down onto the small plate, placing her hand out to indicate him to sit down in the chair on the other side of the desk. There were no greetings, not a word out of her when he had entered, and now, she was staring at her grandson with snake eyes, ready to attack. 

Harry gulped, hands fidgeting in his lap as he sat straight up so she didn’t point out any more of the things he was doing wrong. 

“How was the charity event, Harry?” She suddenly asked, breaking her silence. 

“Uh, good. Had a lot of fun with the children.”

“Good, good. Anyways, I should get to the point with this, hmm?” She raised her brows as she asked her question as a genuine one. Harry’s face remained neutral, slightly nodding. “I called you in here because I wanted to tell you a bit of news that I found out earlier this week…” she trailed, taking a deep breath before she revealed her news. “I found out that I’m dying. I have a tumor in my brain, and the doctors have found it too late. They gave me the option to have surgery where they would try to take it out, but that would lead to very risky complications that I can’t afford. So, I told them that I would hold out.” 

Harry was shocked. His mouth was open, eyes wide, and speechless. Not knowing how to process this new information, he couldn’t believe how casual her tone was when she told him, even her face remained calm like she expected this to happen. 

“I, uh…Nan…” 

“I’ve been preparing for this—I’m getting older, so this was bound to happen already. I’m making sure the kingdom and our country are safe, and I’m making sure your parents are ready for the job they are about to accept.” 

Harry nodded, eyes welling up. “H-How much longer do you have?” 

She shrugged her shoulders. “Doctors said six months to a year, but that could change anytime. We just don’t know.” Harry exhaled deeply, looking down at his lap. He felt as if his heart was heavy as he listened to her talk about her disease—how okay she was with dying. Sure, now, he and Nan don’t get along very well, but once upon a time, they were closer than ever. The Queen absolutely loved her grandson and was always so sweet and gentle with him, but things quickly changed when he turned twenty-two. The older you get, the more distant they become, he thinks. He sighed, wishing it wasn’t like that. 

“I do have a wish from you…before I go.” 

“Anything,” he answered immediately, and he had wished he hadn’t answered so soon because the words that came out of her mouth next was his worst nightmare. 

“I would like to see you get married while I’m still alive. I’m arranging a gala this weekend and I’d like you to meet some people, you know, you can take your pick or whatnot,” she said with an emotionless face. He always disliked how much she lacked enthusiasm or emotion, and how she talked about things so casually. 

Elaine picked up her pen, writing out Thank You cards that she was sending to some people in the village. 

“I…what?” 

“Might I need to repeat that again?” She raised her brows annoyingly, hating when she needed to repeat herself. 

“I can’t do that…” 

“And why not?” She asked sternly, her change of voice had surprised Harry as she slapped her pen down onto the wooden desk. 

“Because…” This was it; he could easily out his relationship with you, tell her the truth, and it would be over with, but he didn’t because he knew that you weren’t ready for what was to happen after. Besides, you would have to know if he was going to tell her the truth, so Harry couldn’t go behind your back. “I don’t wanna meet someone at the gala just to get married right away. What happened to falling in love?” He questioned. 

Elaine scoffed, waving her hand. “Falling in love, that’ll happen when? Never? I’m gonna be gone, Harry. You’d rather fall in love in a year’s time rather than fulfill your grandmother’s wish?” Her voice started to increase, echoing, and bouncing off the walls of her office. Harry started to shake his legs anxiously from the volume of her voice and the idea that she proposed, absolutely hating it. 

The Queen had guilt-tripped him into marrying someone; she had used her disease and lifetime time limit so she could get what she wanted. Elaine knew full well he was going to obey her wishes because that’s how Harry was—he didn’t want anyone to feel bad and he certainly didn’t want it to come from him. She would ask Gemma, but she had much thicker skin than her brother, so she would turn the idea down faster than Elaine would be able to get it out. But Harry, on the other hand, was much easier to get to. 

“Harry, I’m only asking for one thing. When have I ever asked you for anything major?” She crossed her arms, resting them down on the desk. “This is my dying wish. Wouldn’t you want your wish to be-”

“Okay,” he interrupted. His voice was soft as he didn’t dare to look her in the eye as he spoke. 

“Great, it’s settled. Make sure to get your fittings done before the weekend. You have to look your best.” Harry didn’t have to look at her to know that she was absolutely beaming, knowing that she got what she wanted and didn't try hiding her excitement. “Please close the door on your way out.” 

Harry stood up slowly as he was in disbelief. Walking out of her office and closing the door, he started to breathe heavily. Tears were in his eyes and his chest felt heavy as his hands started to shake. He picked at his fingers to calm the shakiness down, but it didn’t work. Walking down the hallway, he rushed towards his room, not even checking to see if you had arrived yet, but he couldn’t face you, not yet. He had just agreed to marry someone that wasn’t you, and you were bound to be upset—he would be suspicious if you weren’t. How was he going to break this news to you? Hell, he didn’t even know how to process this himself. 

All he knew was that this was not going to end well. 

Hours later, you were wandering around the house, wondering where your Prince could be. You hadn’t seen him since you left the banquet hall earlier this afternoon; and Benjamin had told you he was to meet with the Queen once he had gotten home, but as the hours went by, you hadn’t heard or seen him. 

Quickly walking over to the West Wing, you headed towards his room because that was the last place you hadn’t checked. You walked by some of the guards and maids, saying a quick ‘hello’ to them as you passed by; it wasn’t odd for any of the staff to see you heading towards the Prince’s room because you had done it many times and Harry had instructed you, in front of the staff, that if you ever needed to see him, you could knock on his door. 

So, that’s what you did; you knocked on his door, waiting for a word from the other side, but you heard no movement whatsoever. You had checked the entire Royal House from top to bottom, but he was nowhere to be found, so he had to be in his room. You took a look around if anyone was near and once you saw the second floor was empty, you slowly opened the bedroom door of the Prince’s room. And what you saw was as if a tornado had hit his room; a mess was what described his room perfectly as objects were thrown all across the floor, the bed was unmade, chairs and sofa were flipped upside down, and the mirror was cracked in half, leaving shards of glasses on the dresser. 

You slowly walked in, afraid that someone other than Harry might be in his room, and had purposefully trashed it. There was light coming from his bathroom, so you walked towards the light, slowing your steps so your shoes wouldn’t squeak against the polished and shiny tiles. 

“Harry?” You softly called out. By now, he would have come out because you were the only one allowed in his room without permission, so you were starting to get worried. 

Once you were close to the restroom, you started to hear sobs echoing the bathroom, filling the room with soft and quiet heartbreaking sounds, making your heart drop because you knew those cries and you knew exactly who they came from. When you were inside the bathroom, you saw Harry sitting against the wall, arms leaning on his knees as his face was resting on his arms as Harry cried and sobbed. 

Seeing the love of your life in pain and in such anguish, it genuinely felt as if your heart was tearing into pieces or if someone had ripped your heart out and stomped on it. The pain that Harry endured was also felt through your heart as well because he was your soulmate, you both felt everything the other felt. 

You kneeled beside him, gently calling out for his name once more so he knew that you were right beside him before you placed your hand on his shoulder. Harry didn’t have to look up to know that it was you—your touch, your voice, and your presence before leaning to the side and into your arms, sobbing into your chest uncontrollably. You quickly wrapped your arms around his shoulders, comforting him in the best way that you knew how, and that was to simply hold him. 

He liked being held and it made him feel at ease, made his mind shut out the noise. You would simply hold him for the rest of your life if your life depended on it, and if that meant keeping him calm and at peace, then you didn’t mind. 

You ran your hand through the locks of his hair, scratching his scalp and pushing his hair out of his face. You kissed his forehead, giving him many pecks in a way to comfort him. Harry roughly coughed and sniffled; you could feel his heart beating radically, so you smoothed your hand down his back, somewhat rocking him in your arms. You knew he wasn’t a baby, you knew that, but if it worked with crying babies, then it must work with adults too. And besides, who didn’t like to be held while crying? 

To your credit, it had worked; Harry was calming down and his heartbeat wasn’t out of control. He looked up at you through his glassy eyes, sniffling; he looked defeated, and you hated that you weren’t there when he was breaking down because it must have gone on for hours.  There were visible tears that stopped against the crevice of his nose, so you took your hand and wiped his tears away before kissing his nose. 

Harry sat up, sitting against the wall as he was before you came in. Propping his knees up, you moved to sit in front of him, in between his legs, so he could know that you were there for him and that he had your full attention. He grabbed your hands, sadly kissing them but in a way, saying ‘thank you’ for comforting him and making him feel better just by your hold. You rubbed his hands with your thumb, gently caressing his skin as you patiently waited for him to talk to you. 

He took a very deep breath as if it physically pained him to breathe before he spoke, wishing the words that came out of his mouth were a sick joke, but it wasn’t—nothing that came out of the Queen’s mouth was a joke. 

“I spoke with my grandmother earlier…” he began to tell you that she had brain cancer and that she wasn’t going to do anything about it, just live the rest of her life until she couldn’t anymore. Your face saddened as Harry explained, simply just listening to him as he spoke. You placed one of your hands around his neck, playing with the curls that sat on the back of his neck. 

“Bub, I’m so sorry to hear that.” You leaned forward, kissing his cheek before giving you a hug. He wrapped his arms tightly around you, taking in your scent and comfort; he felt better for the time being—before he had to tell you the other part. A new set of tears streamed down his face, unable to hide his emotion now. 

Once you pulled away, you softly wiped his face with your hand before he spoke again. “Sadly, that’s not the news that I’m crying over.” 

Raising your brows, you looked at Harry with a surprised expression, wondering what got him so sad to trash his room and breakdown in the corner of the bathroom. 

“Oh…W-What is it?” You hesitated. 

You listened, watching his mouth as he spoke. Every ounce of hope had disappeared from your body as Harry explained the situation that he was in, that you were in. He cried, unable to be coherent as possible as his sobs won over his ability to speak a full and proper sentence. It genuinely felt like you were asleep like this was a dream, more of a nightmare. As if all of the plans and dreams you had patiently waited for was thrown out the window in a world record time of a minute, maybe less. The color from your face had completely drained, leaving you shocked, appalled, and hurt. Every word was just another twist of the knife that went straight to your heart as you wished his words would get better to relieve the strong and harsh ache in your chest, but they didn’t. 

Wake up, please, wake up, you told yourself, but this was reality. It was real.  

Silence had washed over you two after Harry was done explaining the horrible news. The silence was louder than glass shattering, loud and pitchy. Contrasting to the silence outside of your head that laid between you and Harry, the inside of your mind, your world, was similar to the glass, breaking and crumbling into pieces with one hard hit of the enemy.

“I-I’m sorry, baby. I should’ve said something, anything. But instead, I said yes,” Harry bawled through his words. 

“Are we…over?” You asked nervously. The lack of eye contact you were giving him only pained him, but he knew how difficult it was to say that. He took your face into his hands, tenderly cradling your sad but beautiful face. 

“No,” he immediately disagreed. “I mean, not if you don’t want it to be. I understand why you would, though—didn’t even fight for you. Please, let me fix this. I’ll talk to her, tell her everything. She can’t make me do this, I have a right to my own words and decisions, right?” You stayed silent. Harry understood why you were quiet as you were still taking in this information and how to process that your boyfriend was to be married in the next few months, but he really needed to hear your voice. He needed the reassurance from you because you always seemed to know the right words, but he knew you needed him more. “Princess, please look at me.” His voice was shaky, and you glanced up at him through your lashes. “I’m gonna fix this, okay? Not gonna let her walk all over me again. I love you, and it’s time for her to know that.” 

You nodded briefly, not able to get the right words out. Harry didn’t mind; he took you into his arms, wrapping his strong and tattooed arms around your shaking and frightful body. 

He held you tight as you both sat on the floor of his bathroom, pretending that everything was going to be okay. But in reality, neither of you knew if it really would be. 

The weekend had come by too quickly for Harry’s liking. He didn’t get the chance to have a moment with the Queen because she was busy with handling errands for the gala; from talking to event coordinators, caterers, and floral arrangements, so she hadn’t gotten a moment to sit down unless it was nighttime. Harry practically felt her negligence towards him, always telling him she’d talk to him later, which left Harry feeling defeated because the more she ignored him, the quicker the days had gone by—closer to the gala. 

And to his dislike, it was the morning of the gala, something he had been dreading ever since Elaine had told him she was hosting one. It felt like his world was crumbling; he noticed your demeanor change—how could it not. Things weren’t the same, and they weren’t going to be the same again until he got himself out of the unwanted arranged marriage that the Queen was putting him upon. 

You didn’t mean to act differently around Harry, your boyfriend, or whatever this meant for your relationship, but it was difficult to act like your normal self. You sought comfort from Maria as she told you that this wouldn’t be the last of you two; she had a gut feeling it wouldn’t be. 

You had always imagined getting married to him as you two would excitedly talk about marriage and how life would be when you were husband and wife. But Harry was soon to be meeting his wife, and you had to be in the same room as him, possibly feet away from him when he did so. Your heart ached, dropping to your stomach as you felt sick to your gut every time you thought about it.

You were wearing your usual attire but you added a black corset over your white shirt and a black blazer since the gala was a more formal event. Standing in front of the large bedroom doors, you closed your eyes for a mere second, taking a deep breath before knocking, entering right after. 

Upon your eyes was Harry standing on the block square step in front of the mirror that was placed in the corner of his bedroom. His seamstress sewing the crystals that were loose on his embellished jacket that he paired with white trousers. The gold buttons on the front of his jacket were engraved with his initials, adding a touch of personalization to his attire; along with his white lace gloves, white pearl necklace, and cross pendant. 

He looked absolutely marvelous, rightfully so, and you couldn’t take your eyes off him no matter how heartbroken you were. 

His eyes caught yours in the mirror, widening before turning around to face the seamstress. “Jaylin, I think we’re good, yeah?” He asked, hoping she wouldn’t find any more flaws in his suit. 

“Yes, we are. Have a great time at the gala, Your Highness,” she curtsied, grabbing her supplies before heading out the door. You greeted her on her way out, and you earned a smile from her. 

The click of the door was heard, indicating that it was just the two of you in his room. Usually, you would take advantage of being alone with him, but again, things were different this time around. 

Harry stepped off the step, slowly walking towards you. His eyes never left yours, piercing through you like fire, and you were going to melt. 

“Hi, beautiful,” he greeted softly, looking you up and down. You slightly grinned, looking down at your feet. 

“Hi, Your Highness.” 

He placed two fingers under your chin, lifting your head up. You looked at him with doe eyes, and he couldn’t help but fall in love with you even more with just your stare. 

“You look gorgeous,” he complimented. Leaning forward, he was about to place a kiss on your lips, but you felt his hesitancy as he pulled away. He hadn’t felt your touch, your lips in what seemed like years; completely deprived of your touch, but it’d only been a few days. 

“Thank you. You look wonderful as always.” You grabbed the edge of his jacket, tugging on it to straighten out the material before smoothing your hand over his shoulder and down his arms. Harry sucked in a breath; that was the most you’d ever touched him in days, and he was cherishing every second of it because reality had hit him, and this could possibly be the last time you were ever going to touch him. 

You sighed, pulling back as you crossed your arms behind you. Harry could tell that you had a million thoughts racing in your head and you were wary of saying them, but nothing you could say would scare him; he was already faced with his biggest nightmare. 

He walked towards you, taking your hands in his. The softness of your hands juxtaposed to the slight roughness of his that carried multiple heavy rings on his slender fingers. 

“Hey, I’m gonna fix this, alright? I’m telling her tonight, and I promise that I’m gonna be yours forever, no matter what happens,” he reassured, looking ever so deeply into your eyes so you would get the message. His eyes had captured yours, putting you under his spell, so you nodded and believed him. Harry sighed in relief, thankful that you trusted him. “I actually got you something.” He let go of your hands, walking over to his dresser before pulling out a square box from the drawers. 

Harry was always one to give, always the giver and he loved giving without expecting anything in return. Throughout your relationship, he would always buy you random but sentimental things that he saw at the shop simply because it reminded them of you. The thought was incredibly sweet and you loved the fact that even when you weren’t around him, he was still thinking of you. 

He opened the box, revealing a pearl necklace that had a gold anchor in the middle. It was a necklace that you had thought of getting to match the tattoo that was inked next to your right breast. You and Harry had gotten complimentary tattoos the second year of your relationship, and he proudly got a ship tattoo on his left arm as well as an anchor on his wrist to match with you. Harry was your anchor; he kept you upright. He was the backbone of your ship, helping you slow down whenever you needed a break. 

“You were secretly eyeing this when we visited that farmer’s market a few months ago. And since I couldn’t go and get this by myself since you’re always with me, I asked Gemma if she could get it for me. Hope this was the one you were talking about,” he explained shyly as he held the box open for you. 

You were speechless as your heart fluttered. “Harry…” Your fingers delicately grazed the necklace, studying and feeling his gold chain; it was the exact same one you saw at the market. 

“Do you like it?” 

“Yes, I do—I love it.” You softly smiled up at him. “D-Do you mind putting it on me?” He immediately nodded, taking the necklace out of his case, and you turned around, slowly pulling your hair to the side. 

Harry unclasped the necklace; the small skin on the back of your neck was exposed to him, so he leaned down, placing a small kiss on your skin. The action sent shivers down your spine, but you took the touch that you’d been starved of. He put the necklace on as it sat perfectly against your collarbone; and Harry wrapped his arms around your waist, taking in your delicious scent. You felt extremely warm as if you were standing in the courtyard and the sun was casting its light right down your spine, providing you warmth. You placed your arms on top of his, hugging him to yourself as he rested his face against the crook of your neck, tenderly kissing your skin. 

A deep sigh of relief was released from your lips as you let loose in his hold. His arms were a place you wanted to be in forever; it was a place where you found security and comfort, and the thought of leaving, a chance to never be in his arms, had never once crossed your mind. 

You turned around in his arms, facing him as you wrapped your arms around his neck, mindlessly playing with the small curls that sat so effortlessly on his neck. 

“Thank you for the necklace, I truly love it,” you sincerely said, reaching up to place a small chaste kiss on his lips. Your lips against his had made Harry’s stomach flip, and he couldn’t bear to hide the smile that made you fall so hard for him. 

“You’re welcome, my love.” 

“Do you mind…fixing my corset? It’s a bit loose.” You offered him a smile, and he nodded. You took off your blazer before he reached behind you to untie the knot that you had tried to make look decent. 

“I love you, you know that, right?” You suddenly asked as Harry pulled the strings tighter, making you take a big breath in before he started to tie them smoothly without the need to look if he’s doing it correctly; he’s tied your corset for you so many times already that it was all muscle memory. 

“Yeah, I do know that,” he nodded, looking deeply into your eyes. You had practically felt Harry’s doubts and insecurities of your love deep through because of the news that he broke to you the other day. And you figured you weren’t being a good enough girlfriend to him and failing to remind him that you loved him and it wasn’t his fault for everything that’s happening. “You know I love you as well, yes?” 

You raised your brows at him, nodding. “Mhm. Just wanted to see if you knew.”

He chuckled, finishing up the knot. “Yeah, I know.” 

He placed his hands on your hips, and you leaned to give him a kiss to thank him as well as just to kiss him lovingly, something you two hadn’t done in days. Giving you a smile, he was going to go in for another one, but a knock was heard on the door, making you two pull away quickly. 

That knock on the door only meant that the car was ready and that Harry should be heading to the gala now. That knock only meant that it was time to face his future—the future that was going to fight for, the one that he wanted and not the Queen. 

That knock only indicated that it would be determined if he was to live with or without you, and there’s no way in hell he was living without you. 

Elaine had definitely gone all out with this gala, Harry thought. It was held in a museum that was closed due to the Queen’s personal favors and demands. 

When a guest entered the gala, they were immediately caught with the gold antique lining on every end of the wall; the high crystal chandeliers reflected off the gold and illuminated the room even further, bouncing off the shiny and polished floors. Long champagne color curtains were draped in front of each window with a historical gold statue pushed up against the window. The dome-shaped ceiling was high, painted to tell the story of the Renaissance. When a guest entered the gala, they were welcomed with elegance, grace, and exquisiteness, prepared to have a gold evening that would only end in secret affairs and tragic events. 

You led Harry through the room, many guests greeting him with such poise as they tried to get his very best impression. With suits looking sharp and dresses were extra flowy, they bowed and curtsied as Harry politely said his greetings to them. 

Many of the guests had been mentally and physically prepared to have a proper conversation with Prince Harry, and hopefully get a chance with him on the dance floor, if he allowed it. Everybody wondered what it would be like to walk into the building with Prince Harry on their arm, how they would flaunt and brag about how they arrived with him. 

During galas and balls like these, the guards were instructed to be present, to be aware, so they didn’t need to always be close to the Royal Family. Once you got an approving nod and smile from Harry, you left him be; guests surrounded him, the men were shaking his hand as the women gave him a kiss on the cheek. He was completely soaked up in the attention, everyone praising him for the recent work that he’s done for different foundations and events that he attended recently. He’d been offered too many invites to grab a drink, or to the dance floor later in the evening, or even to their bedroom when everyone was asleep. 

Politely and respectfully, he told all of them that he’d see where the night would take him, knowing full well that he wouldn’t be able to reject them fully because the only one he wanted to have a drink with was you. The only one he wanted to invite and take on the dance floor, dancing and spinning the night away to classical and soft music was you. The only one he wanted to go to bed with, to make love under the sheets, and wake up in the early hours of the morning to admire how you slept was you. 

The Queen was sitting on her throne, crown sitting perfectly on her head as she watched Harry for over an hour, interacting with her guests. She could practically hear the conversations that the many women whispered to in his ear, inviting him for a night in their presence, but she noticed how uninterested Harry was—the look on his face said it all and how he would politely brush off their question without giving them an answer. She observed how he, quite often, looked over at you, standing against the wall, watching him as well. 

You were nervously watching him, observing the way he acted around the guests, seeing if his demeanor would suddenly change since you weren’t right by his side anymore. It wasn’t as if you were jealous—you were never one to be jealous; it was your own insecurities that made you constantly worry about how Harry could just pack up and find someone else that was much better for him. Everyone always wondered what it would be like to love Prince Harry, and you were the lucky one to know what his love felt like, and you would hold onto that love for as long as you possibly could. 

Elaine had made her rounds and chatted with several people who were eager to talk to her, and they were lucky enough to get a chuckle out of her. It was difficult impressing the Queen, her own family even struggled to get her approval, so it was a rare sight to see Elaine walk up to someone and initiate a conversation. 

But that person wasn’t just ‘anyone,’ they were that person the Queen had specifically picked out to wed her grandson, someone who was worthy of hers and the Prince’s time. Elaine had asked the woman to follow her, which she immediately complied as Elaine walked through the room, nodding her head at everyone who greeted her, for what seemed like the hundredth time. 

Harry was in conversation with one of the Dukes when his grandmother had walked up to him, the first time tonight, with someone, who he had never met before, trailing behind her. 

“Harry,” The Queen made herself known. 

“Your Majesty.” Harry bowed. 

“I would like you to meet Venus. She’s the daughter of one of the board members for the Water and Power Organization,” Elaine introduced the dark-haired girl. 

Venus curtsied. “Your Highness.” She smiled, flashing him her gorgeous smile. Venus was pretty, anyone knew that from just a glance. She wore a champagne silk dress that had crystals embedded on her waist, cinching her figure. She added white silk gloves and diamond earrings to top off the look. 

“Pleasure,” Harry simply said behind a smile, masking his anxious and nervous attitude. He knew this was the moment where the Queen would tell him who Venus was and what he was to do while you were standing in the back watching the entire interaction, holding in your tears as your heart broke a little more. 

“My dear, Harry,” Elaine started. Harry looked at his grandmother weirdly; she hadn’t called him that since he was younger. “Shall you accompany her to the dance floor? Get to know each other, hmm?” She suggested, brows raised. 

Harry was all too polite to reject the poor girl as Venus looked at him with hopeful eyes. He simply cleared his throat and nodded, hesitantly offering her hand to the dance floor. Venus gladly took his hand, and Harry led them under the high crystal chandelier before she put her hand on his shoulder while the other still held his hand. Harry respectfully placed his hand on the small of her back--his actions unsure. Sure, he had danced with many people throughout the years, even while being with you, but this was completely different; this was the woman who he was to be wedded to, and he was sure Venus knew that as well. 

“The Queen is very kind. I thought she disliked a lot of people, so I was shocked when she started up a conversation with me.” Venus made conversation to fill the void of silence between her and the Prince as they swayed to the classical music. 

Harry lightly scoffed to himself. “She’s the Queen, could do anything she wants.” 

“She told me the plan, and I will happily be your wife, Your Highness, an honor really.” Her voice was light and hopeful. Harry knew that she was a kind woman and anyone would jump at the chance to marry into royalty, but he couldn’t deal with this, not right now. Not when you’re standing feet away, containing your pain. Harry pulled away swiftly from Venus’ hold, leaving her confused. “Your Highness?” 

“I’m sorry, I-I can’t do this,” he told her before walking away and leaving her on the dance floor. 

The Queen had watched the entire interaction, anger, and disappointment present on her face as she watched Harry walk away and out of the main ballroom. You were about to follow him out once you saw him frantically walk out, but you noticed the Queen quickly trailing behind him. Holding tightly onto your thumbs to contain the shakiness, you stayed put as your mind had begun to wonder if your boyfriend was okay or not. 

You understood why he seemed upset and stormed off; dancing with someone who wasn’t your partner hurt just the same as watching it right in front of you. All you wanted to do was hide away with him, in each other’s arms forever, but that wasn’t reality. 

Harry’s footsteps clicked against the tiled floor, walking in pure frustration as he tugged on his hair. Tears threatened to spill out of his eyes, a groan slipped from his mouth. He heard footsteps following behind him, and he already knew who those particular steps belonged to. Turning around to face what seemed like the devil itself, he inhaled deeply, holding his breath. 

“What in God’s name are you doing? You left the poor girl hanging!” Elaine scolded, eyes piercing through him. 

“Nan, I can’t do this. You can’t make me do this.” His eyes and voice pleaded, begged for mercy as he was asking for a favor as her grandson, not the Prince. 

“And why may that be?” She tested. Harry’s mouth opened but quickly closed, refraining himself to say anything. The words were right at the tip of his tongue and he had told you that he would tell her everything, but when it came to the moment, anxiety and nerves got in the way. But it seemed like the Queen knew exactly what he was going to say because she spoke for him, saying, “Is it because of that girl out there who happens to be your personal guard? Y/N, is it?” Her voice had a hint of sarcasm, and that’s when Harry knew. 

She knows, she knows everything. 

“H-How did-” 

“Oh, for god sake, Harry. Do you think I’m naive? Oblivious? It’s painfully obvious--the way you two look at each other, how you walk so closely next to each other, not to mention, the mornings in. You can’t tell me that every time you sleep in, she’s nowhere to be found too? Hmm?” Crossing her arms, she knew she defeated Harry. There was no way around it and no room for lying because she knew everything.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” 

“I thought it was a one time thing, the first time I noticed it--that it wouldn’t last long. But I’ve watched it happen for five years, and now that I’ve had limited time on this Earth, I didn’t want to see it anymore.” She shook her head in disappointment. “So, you will marry Venus,” she instructed sternly. 

“I will not,” Harry bit back, holding his ground. 

“You will do as I say-” 

“Your Majesty!” Harry interrupted, his lip wobbling involuntarily. For a moment, Elaine had seen the seven-year-old Prince as he gave her big puppy eyes, pushing his bottom lip out as he begged. For a moment, she was about to give in to his wishes, disagreeing to be wedded to a woman he had never met before tonight. If it were twenty years ago, she would have, but twenty-seven-year-old Harry didn’t have the same effect on her as he did two decades ago. 

She loved her grandson, she did. As cruel and heartless as it was, her love for him had begun to slowly dissipate ever since he started dating you, making her a bit more harsh with him as it was a complete switch up from how she acted around him when he was younger. 

“You are to be married to Venus next Saturday, and that is final,” she said in an unrelenting tone before she walked away, heading back into the main room without another look back at her heartbroken grandson. 

Harry was left in the empty hallway on the verge of a full breakdown. His knees felt weak, about to give out from holding him up. Luckily, you entered the hallway, quickly walking towards Harry who looked completely stunned. The bottom of your shoes clicked loudly against the quiet hallway. 

You placed your hands on the side of his face, frantically worrying. “Harry, baby? What’s wrong? What happened?” 

He finally exhaled the deep and big breath that he had been holding in since his conversation with the Queen. The absence of your presence had made his breath shudder as he quite frankly couldn’t breathe properly when you weren’t around. 

His legs gave out as he couldn’t properly stand, and without warning, he collapsed, but you had caught him as you quickly placed your arms under his underarms, trying your best to pull him up. But his deadweight had won, bringing you both to the floor. You caught his fall, somehow maneuvering yourself to be placed behind him, so he wouldn’t completely fall on his back. Sitting in between your legs, he turned himself in your hold, burying his head in your neck as he began to sob. Tears soaked your skin as they slid smoothly down to your shirt, dampening the piece of clothing. His hot breath hit your skin as he bawled his eyes out, holding your top tightly between his fist, wrinkling your perfectly ironed white shirt. 

His wails broke your heart, and you had no clue as to what happened prior to getting this reaction out of him, but it must have been something horrible; something the Queen had said to him as you saw her walk into the ballroom just before you walked out. You only assumed it had something to do with the arranged marriage that she mentioned earlier this week. 

“Baby…please, you’re scaring me,” your voice was shaky, anxious as to what the reasoning for his breakdown was. Your fingers threaded through his chestnut curls, comforting him in a way you only knew how to do. 

Harry’s breath stuttered as he sniffled, catching his breath as he calmed down a bit before he spoke. “S-She knows.” Your breath had hitched in your throat, heart dropping to your stomach. The Queen knows everything, constantly replayed over in your mind like a broken record. “She knew from the very start of o-our relationship that’s why she started to become so harsh and short with me.” Your heart broke for Harry as he spoke about his grandmother, and you couldn’t help but think that you were the one that caused the Queen’s unpleasant tone with the Prince. “But I am to still be married to the woman in the ballroom. She scheduled it for next Saturday,” he added as his voice cracked towards the end. 

His words were echoing in your head, and it only added fuel to your terrible nightmare. You thought you had time, time to convince Elaine that your relationship with Harry was serious and that you loved him. But you’re starting to think that Elaine didn’t care if he was happy or in love, that she was doing this completely out of spite. 

“W-What are we gonna do, Y/N?” Harry needed your words—he needed your console, your reassurance that everything was going to be alright. 

But this time, you didn’t have an answer. 

Your footsteps were the only thing that were heard as you walked through the dark and quiet hallway, leading up to the Queen’s office. She had asked one of her guards to tell you that she requested to see you after breakfast, and your thoughts had been running ever since. This had been the first time the Queen would speak a word to you; the other times had been full of her ignoring your greetings as you curtsied politely. 

You asked Harry if she knew if he knew what she was going to say to him, but he just shook his head no. Rightfully so, he’s been in quite a gloomy mood, but he’d been more clingy than ever since this was most likely your last week together. You tried not to think about how Harry was to be married to another woman at the end of the week, and that only led to crying into your pillow until the early hours of the morning; Harry’s been the same, maybe even worse. 

With a shaky hand, you knocked on the door; not too hard but not too soft either. You gulped as you heard Elaine say ‘Enter’ from the other side of the door. Nervously opening the door, you were faced with the Queen sitting in her chair with her hands linked together as she rested them against her desk. 

“Your Majesty.” You curtsied, anxiously looking at her for some sort of approval, but all she did was gesture for you to sit down. 

Once you were sitting rather uncomfortably on the edge of the seat, she stared at you for a moment, looking at you up and down as her glare was rather deadly. You tried not to fidget or anxiously bounce your leg, but her eyes were probing into your soul, and you were afraid of how she may react if you disconnected your eyes from her. 

“I assume you know why you’re here?” She started. You nodded lightly, not saying a word. “I don’t appreciate you and my grandson going behind my back to have this…affair of yours, especially for years. First, did you think nobody would find out? You’re in the Royal House, everyone reports things back to me when they see something suspicious, so don’t think you were all that sneaky. Second, Harry’s a Prince, you’re a…guard.” She said with much emphasis on your title. “Did you think it was going to work out? I mean, he’s a Prince.” She added a bit of a scoff at the end, but her tone was stern. 

“My apologies for going behind your back, Your Majesty.” You hadn’t a clue on what to say to her other than to apologize because there was no reason for lying only to make the situation worse. 

“Hmm. You see, Prince Harry is to be married in four days. That means you are no longer in relations with him, and since you’ve disrespected me and my family, you are no longer needed in the Royal House. You are to be packed by Saturday, and you’ll never go close to my family ever again—more importantly, the Prince. Understood?” She instructed unsympathetically. 

Your breath was stuck in your throat, your stomach in knots, and your heart didn’t feel like it was beating anymore. You were absolutely crushed. The thought of not seeing Harry anymore frightened you; you didn’t want to do life without him. You needed him, and unknowing to the Queen, he needed you too. 

“I asked if you understood,” she said, wanting a vocal answer to seal the deal. 

Slowly, you nodded your head. “Yes, I understand, Your Majesty.” 

Elaine leaned back in her chair. “Very well. You may leave now.” 

You got up, making your way out of her office, closing the heavy door before you let out a wracking sob, chest heaving up and down. You quickly made your way to your room, covering your mouth to contain the volume of your cries. The fee staff that you passed by had called out for you, asking what was wrong, but you ignored their calls, heading straight to your room where you locked the door and cried into your pillow, just as you had for the past few days. Your heart broke into a million pieces for yourself and for Harry, and you didn’t know how you would ever recover. 

As you were talking with the Queen. The Duchess had found Harry lingering around Elaine’s office, pacing back and forth as well as pressing his ear up against the door. 

“Harry? What are you doing?” Anne asked worriedly. 

“Mum, please. I need you.” Tears streamed down his face, and Anne’s heart broke as she saw her son so heartbroken. All of the rules Elaine had instructed Anne to do on how to raise her children, like completely stop showing her kids affection, had completely torn in half. And just like that, her child needed her.

Anne quickly took Harry into her arms, and Harry sobbed into her shoulder, hugging her tightly. “There, there, my darling. You’re alright.” She rubbed his back soothingly. “What’s wrong?” 

Harry pulled back. “Uh, Y/N—she's in there with Nan. Mum, she knows everything.” Anne’s eyes widened. “We’ve kept it in for so long, why now?” Harry choked in between his words as his cries had heightened. 

Anne looked at Harry with a defeated face. She’s always known about his relationship with you ever since the beginning. A quite fresh six months into the relationship, Anne had caught you two running around in the courtyard under the moonlight, past curfew hours. Harry suggested sneaking out because that was the only time you two had alone, so you hesitantly said yes without thinking about getting caught. Sure enough, you two did get caught by the Duchess. You relentlessly apologized to his mum, saying you won’t pass curfew hours anymore, but Anne simply just smiled, telling you two to be more careful next time because it could’ve been the Queen who had caught you. 

As Harry’s mother, she understood the importance of wanting him to live his life the way he wanted to. She always encouraged that he could be whoever he wanted to be, and she would always be there to support it. She didn’t want to tell him who to love or who to marry because that decision should be completely up to him. And throughout the years, she’d seen how much love he has for you while that same love was also being reciprocated. That’s all she wanted for him—someone who would love and cherish him. 

“I don’t know what to say, darling. Maybe you could talk to her?” Anne suggested, caressing Harry’s arms. 

“I-I tried before, but she just brushed past me. I don’t know what I’m gonna do.” Frustration was clearly going through Harry’s body as he pulled on his hair, something he does when he’s anxious and frustrated because he was somewhat in control over it. 

“C’mon, let’s go into the living room.” She grabbed his arm, leading him out of the hallway, but he pulled back. 

“But…” 

“She’ll go to you when she needs to. The last thing you need is getting caught lingering around when I’m sure the Queen doesn’t want you two being around one another.” 

Anne was right; a mother does know best. Following her wishes, he nodded, trailing behind his mother and out of the hallway, away from his poor girl who was being confronted by the Queen. 

It was Friday night, and you had just zipped up the last of your luggage. Your room was empty, and it pained your heart that it was your last night at the Royal House, the last time you would ever see Harry. 

You were due to be out of the Royal House by seven a.m and off Royal grounds at nine in the morning; there was a boat scheduled for everyone visiting the grounds to departure at nine, and you would be on your way to God knows where, but far away from the one person who had your heart. 

Harry’s wedding was to be scheduled quite early in the morning, around eight-thirty, or so you’d heard from the staff. The entire staff had no clue of your leave, except a few of the guards that were going to escort you out of the Royal House and to the docks. The Queen had bumped into you in the hallways and specifically instructed you to not tell anyone that you were leaving because she was going to tell them that you resigned if they asked. You simply had no energy to argue, to disagree with her choice, so you nodded, not saying a word. 

You sat on the edge of your bed, completely drained physically and emotionally, and the one thing on your mind was to go to sleep—sleep and Harry, your dearest Harry who you hoped was okay. You got ready for bed mindlessly as a numbness fell throughout your body. You couldn’t feel anything but pain, and the suffering you’d endured for the past week had overwhelmed your mind and body, leaving you dazed. 

Your heart pounded through your ears with every movement as it started to make you feel dizzy, so you laid down on your side, facing the wall while you hugged your pillow tightly while your hand was wrapped around your gold necklace Harry had gifted you. Shutting your eyes, you forced your mind to go to sleep. 

A few moments passed by, and due to your ears ringing, you didn’t hear your bedroom door open and close. But you did feel the edge of your twin bed dip down, making you open your eyes in startelement as the figure behind you engulfed you into their arms, and you immediately relaxed. 

Sighing deeply, a few tears shed from your eyes, feeling relief from the pair of arms around you; you hadn’t felt his arms around you since Tuesday, the day you talked to the Queen. You also hadn’t seen him since Tuesday because after your meeting with Elaine, she had found Harry, telling him to stay away from you. Many arguments had come out of his mouth, but Elaine immediately shut him down after that, sternly telling him that he was to never speak to her that way again. Knowing that Harry would break the rule of not seeing you, Elaine ordered for you to not cross the boundary of the West and East Wing as she knew you wouldn’t break her rules. 

The feeling of being this close to one another after three days was such a relief, and it almost felt wrong because of the Queen’s wishes, but you simply couldn’t care less because you were in the arms of the person you adored. 

Turning around to face him, you were immediately greeted with a loving ‘I missed you so damn much’ kiss. His lips glided over yours smoothly, but rushed, desperate to feel your touch as his arms never loosened around your frame, needing your body close. 

“Hi, Princess,” he said breathlessly once he pulled away. 

You kissed the tip of his nose, making him blush. “Your Highness, how are you?” You asked concerningly. 

“Was doing horrible without you, but right now, I’m just happy to see you, happy to be in your bed.” You softly smiled, pecking his lips. 

You were also happy to have him in your bed. He’d only snuck out of his room to sleep in your bed a handful of times, but he could easily say that it’s the best bed he’s ever slept on because your scent was all over the sheets as well as your body being pressed up against his due to the lack of space you two had. You’d tease him, saying that you were baffled he would rather leave his king-size bed for your small one, but he would charm your pants off and come back with how he liked your small bed better because that meant you would be closer to him the entire night. A charmer, he is. 

A silence fell over you both, simply just looking and taking one another’s presence in. You had both memorized every inch of each other’s face throughout the entirety of your friendship and relationship—every mark, mole, crease, and wrinkle was ingrained into your mind as it was your fear that you would forget how your handsome Prince looked like—but this time, it was different. You two were looking at one another, so neither of you would actually forget what the other looked liked because you wouldn’t be able to see him again. 

You lowered your eyes to your neck, stopping yourself from crying, but it seemed like your tears and emotion for the best of you. A small sniffle came out of you and Harry pouted, bringing you into his chest and holding you tightly. 

“I’m gonna miss you,” you said against his skin. 

“C’mon…” Harry said with slight annoyance, lightly scoffing as he was in disbelief of what you were saying. 

“I mean it, I’m really gonna miss you.” You pulled your head out of his chest, looking up at him. 

He shook his head as tears formed in his eyes. His heart was breaking more than it already had, and it upset him how much you were letting all of this happen—accepting it, more like. 

“Don’t do this.” He looked deeply into your eyes, brows furrowed; you could tell that he looked frustrated and offended, but you didn’t know what you could do to make your situation better, so you shrugged your shoulders in defeat. 

“There’s nothing else for me to do, Harry. I don’t know what you want me to do. I don’t want you to resent me for not being close to your grandmother when she’s practically on her deathbed.” He pulled away from you, laying on his back as he looked up at the ceiling fan, hoping if he looked long enough, he would be hypnotized into another life—a life where it involved just the two of you. But he was still in your room and his realities were still coming true. “I don’t know what you want me to do,” you added. 

“Don’t accept the fact that we’re not gonna see each other again!” He whisper-yelled, trying to keep his voice down, still not making eye contact with you. How could he ever resent you? For most of his life, you’d made him the happiest—ever since you two were kids, you would always find a reason to put a smile on his face and get out of bed in the morning. 

You sighed deeply, closing your eyes. This wasn’t how you wanted your last night to go, and you could understand why he was frustrated, but you really didn’t know what he wanted you to do because there wasn’t anything you could do. 

He turned his head towards you, seeing that you were closing your eyes, exhaling through your nose deeply. He turned his whole body to lay on his side, facing you before bringing his hand to your cheek, caressing your skin with his thumb. You opened your eyes once you felt his cold touch, chills rose onto your skin as you looked at him through your glassy and sad eyes; a look that broke his heart. 

“I’m sorry for raising my voice, my Princess. I’m just…angry and sad.” He lowered his eyes, feeling subdued. 

“It’s okay, I understand. I just don’t know what to do to make this situation any better, but we have to accept that this is our ending. And it may not be ‘happily ever after’ for the two of us, but that doesn’t mean I’m gonna stop loving you.” He nodded as he took in your words. 

“Just…hold me, yeah? Until you have to l-leave.” His voice cracked at the end of his sentence, finding it rather difficult to accept the fact that you won’t be on the same grounds as him anymore. 

You nodded, closing the inch of space, and wrapping your arms around him. As your face was pressed against his chest, Harry’s chin rested on the top of your head as you two held one another. It was a surreal but heartbreaking moment, but the two of you cherished the last several hours you had with one another. 

You lifted your head up, only to be met with his chin, and you pressed a kiss along with the sharpness of his stubble jaw; Harry sighed in relief. You hooked your leg around his waist, pulling him closer than he already was, and trailed your lips to his neck, sucking and licking his soft skin. Harry groaned, involuntarily bucking his hips into yours as the feel of your lips had that much of an effect on him. 

Shifting upwards so you were face-to-face, you looked in his eyes momentarily, taken back by his beauty. He was so immensely beautiful that he quite literally took your breath away. He almost didn’t seem real, so tangible, but he was definitely a sight. You’ve had a crush on him for more than a decade, and not once had it minimized into something frivolous or vanished; you hadn’t doubted your love for him and you never would. You were always going to have a crush on the Prince until the day you took your last breath when you would think about giving him one last kiss goodbye. 

Connecting your lips together, you felt like you were home. The peace his lips provided made you melt with every kiss, every single time his tongue glided over yours, or when he bit your bottom lip and pulled back a bit—just being connected to Harry physically and emotionally made you feel secure, and you couldn’t ask for anything more in life because you would be too greedy. 

In the midst of moving your lips in sync with his, he traced his tongue against your bottom lip, making you open your mouth, a moan leaving your lips. His tongue met yours, swirling and tasting one another as the grip you had on one another had stiffened, pulling each other closer. With your hips slightly grinding against his, the breathy moans that left his mouth, and Harry’s lips perfectly and gracefully kissing yours, the electrifying feeling was more powerful than ever. The spark ran down your back, making you want more as chills ran down the course of your body. You would always want more when it came to Harry; he had that appeal where he would leave everyone wanting for more, but luckily, you were the only one he would be giving it to. 

You pulled away, completely breathless by his soft and pink lips before you whispered, “Want you, please.” Your eyes were pleading with him to do anything to your body as you just wanted to feel his touch, his body against yours. 

“Sure?” He asked as he always did before you two ever had sex, and you appreciated the thought because it really showed how true of a gentleman that he was before he fucked you relentlessly into the mattress. 

“Mhm. Give it to me…one last time,” you sighed, curling your lips into your mouth as your fingers pushed away the curl that fell onto his forehead. 

He shook his head softly, disapproving of your choice of words. “Okay,” he responded, brushing off your statement as he gave you another kiss, unable to get enough of your sweet, cherry-flavored lips. 

Soft kisses were pressed against your cheek, trailing down your neck as he gave you a love bite; you threw your head back into the pillow, allowing him more access to your neck. His hands found the hem of your baby pink silk nightgown, bunching the soft fabric up to your waist as he held your thigh up to his waist, softly grinding his pelvis into yours. 

You sat up and raised your arms straight up before Harry took the chance to peel your nightgown off of your body and on the floor. You laid back down, completely naked, besides the necklace that rested perfectly on your skin, as his eyes bored into you, admiring your figure and being quite mesmerized by you as he always was. Your room was dark besides the soft glow of the moonlight that peeked through the window and casted down at your body, giving Harry a clear and beautiful vision of you. 

“So beautiful, my love. Take my breath away every single time I look at you,” he said softly. You shyly smiled under his state, finding it quite intimidating for a moment. 

Harry raised his arms and reached behind his head to take off his shirt, showcasing his tattoos that you’ve traced, counted, and kissed plenty of times throughout the years. His inked skin was something you loved most about him because despite being Royal blood, he still wanted to be himself—not someone people assumed he was as if they’d figured out his entire life and personality. Just Harry.

He was outright the most stunning man you’d ever laid your eyes on. You were sure there would be no one like him because there was only one Harry that you loved, only one person that you loved. 

You reached your hands out for him, and Harry slowly placed his weight on you. His lips sucked and licked the swell of your breasts and nipples, giving each the same amount of attention. You grabbed his face, bringing it up to your lips as you missed them. 

He molded his lips with yours for a few moments, enjoying your touch before you briskly flipped the two of you over so you were on top now. 

Harry smirked, hands immediately finding their way to your waist. “My girl wants to be on top, hmm?” You nodded as you began to take his striped pajama pants off; his cock was hard, sitting against his lower abdomen. You leaned down, licking one long stripe from the base to the tip, earning a raspy moan from your Prince before kissing up his body, making sure to leave a few love bites so he had something to remember you by in the morning on his wedding day. Call it petty if his new wife would see them tomorrow on their night as newlyweds, but rightfully so, he was yours and you had his heart first. 

You reached his neck, littering his skin as you sucked and licked. “Wanna feel you deep. Can you sit up, please?” 

“Always so polite. Of course, I can.” He sat up against the headboard, and you pressed your body against his as his cock laid perfectly between your folds. You could practically feel your arousal dripping onto his hard-on, so you slowly started to grind against his hard length as you feverishly kissed him. 

A throaty moan came out of both of you as your hands desperately held onto one another, grabbing whatever you both can to really feel each other. 

“Please,” he whimpered. “Need to feel you.” 

“Look who’s being so polite now, huh,” you teased, and Harry giggled. He loved being able to giggle and tease one another during the intimate times you two had together; it made things fun and less serious as you two were able to be yourselves around each other. 

You sat on your knees to raise your hips before you licked your hand and grabbed a hold of his cock, giving him a few pumps before you lined him up with your entrance. Slowly sinking down on him, your walls hugged him tightly as he graciously filled you up. After five years, he still filled your walls and stretched you out as his thick and long size was something you still had to adjust to. A soft moan left both of your lips once you were fully on him, keeping yourself there for a moment. 

“Fuck, you feel so good. Could stay like this for as long as possible,” he breathed out. 

You softly smiled. “Give me a moment. Always gonna need to adjust to you, just so big.” You praised him for endeavors, knowing he liked being praised; and he smirked. 

“All for you,” he breathed out, making you smile. 

After a minute or two, you started to move up and down on him, raising your hips until only his tip was inside of you before sinking back down, taking him in fully. He always hit that special spot in this position; with just one thrust, it had you moaning his name out like there was no tomorrow. 

You squeezed around him, making him throw his head back onto the headboard as he started to guide your hips that were working on grinding and bouncing onto him. Your movements began to pick up, finding a rhythm as you swiveled and grinded on his cock, feeling on edge already. 

His mouth attacked your tits as his hands squeezed and slapped your ass, leaving a red mark onto your skin, but you loved it, you always did. You wrapped your arms around your neck, hugging his face to your chest as he hugged your waist, keeping you close while kissing the valley of your breasts. 

His hands gripped your hips, pushing you down so you would stop your movements. You looked down in confusion as big doe eyes looked up at you. Pushing his hair back and scratching his scalp, you gave him a small smile, kissing his lips fully. 

“W-What’s wrong?” You asked once you pulled back from his lips, your voice soft and tender. 

“Just…wanna make this last longer.” 

You nodded, agreeing. “Okay.” You didn’t continue your movements after that, just simply staying seated on him, keeping him warm as he was tucked in away with your softness and warmth of your velvety walls. 

“I’ll love you forever, y’know that, right? Not gonna love another soul again,” he confessed sadly. 

“I know that, and I love you more than life itself. But baby, you’re getting married—spending the rest of your life with someone. You’ve ought to love her someday.” As hard as it was for you to tell him that he could love someone else, you knew that it was inevitable for him to catch feelings, especially for his new wife. 

He shook his head in disagreement. “No, no. I can’t do that, even if you’re telling me to love someone else, I physically and emotionally cannot open up my heart to someone who isn’t you.” His eyes were glassy; the moonlight still made his gorgeous green eyes sparkle. 

“I know, I know.” You lovingly placed a kiss onto his forehead, lingering your lips onto his skin for a moment as his fingers trailed down your spine. “Just know that I’m gonna love you forever, too.” 

“Yeah?” He asked, smiling slightly; you nodded. “Please do. Need your love,” he sniffled, a tear slowly streaming down the side of his face. 

You wiped it away, leaning down to kiss his nose and lips. “Need your love too. Can you feel mine? Can you feel my love?” You asked as you began to start moving your hips. 

A throaty moan left Harry’s lips as he nodded. “Yeah, I can feel it all over. Feel it everywhere—never want to not feel it.” He gripped your hips hard, squeezing the flesh as you whimpered. 

Slowly bouncing on him, you started to revive your orgasm as you started to whine and mewl, desperate to get there. Your thighs were shaking and burning from being on top and grinding on him for so long, and Harry started to see that as your movements slowed down and you had to take a few breaks. 

“Tired?” 

“Mhm.” 

“Okay, I got you, baby. Let me love you.” He shifted down so he was on his back and your body was pressed up against his. “Let me take care of you.” You nodded softly, burying your face into his neck, hiding away from him as you whispered from the movement. 

Harry planted his feet on the bed, bucking his hips and fucking up into you; it wasn’t fast, no, it was slow but his thrusts were hard. He was so deep that you felt the electrifying shock run down to your toes, making you curl them in. Hot breath hit his skin as you moaned out his name before he felt your lips continuously kissing, sucking, and licking his neck. 

“My Princess. My dream girl. Gonna love you forever. Gonna miss you, gonna miss this.” His voice cracked, hugging you tightly to his chest as he continued to thrust up into you. “Please, let me feel you,” he pleaded for your release. 

His cock was hitting your special spot as you were very close. After a few more thrusts, a few more moans, and a few more words that effortlessly slipped out of Harry’s mouth as he encouraged you to find your pleasure, you let go. Your beautiful sounds were muffled from the pillow and the way you buried your face into the crook of his neck. You were quite overwhelmed as you began to sob, a quarter of your distress was because of how powerful your orgasm was, but most of it was because of how empty you would feel when you had left the Royal Grounds tomorrow morning, and how you wouldn’t see Harry anymore. 

Harry continued to fuck you, riding your high out before he spilled into you, loud and raspy moans slipped filled your ear as he moaned your name and how much he loved you. 

Once he calmed down, the room was in absolute silence beside the sounds of the gut-wrenching sobs that came from you. You were incredibly sensitive and emotional as you held onto him tight, Harry still inside of you. His heart was breaking as he started to quietly cry with you, which caught your attention, so you lifted your head up to face him. Witnessing Harry crying wasn’t your favorite sight to see; it pained you to see him so upset, and you wanted to take his pain away and keep it to yourself so he would be happy. 

“No matter what…” you started, stroking his cheek tenderly. “I’m gonna love you. And even though I’m not going to be physically next to you, you’re still gonna have my heart and you’ll feel how much I love you. Just…remember that, please?” 

Harry nodded. “And you’ll have my heart,” he reciprocated. 

“Mhm, and I’ll guard your heart for the rest of my life.” 

He pecked your lips sweetly. “I know you know this, but you’re my ship. You’re the thing that brings me home safely and securely while I lay out in the sun for hours and be completely content and happy with life. And no matter what storm you, or we, encounter, you’re always able to guide us to a brighter part of the Earth. And for that, I will love you forever. Got you inked on my skin permanently and I will cherish the memories and the love you have given me for the past twenty years.” 

His proclamations had you in tears, sniffling throughout his words. You knew how difficult it was for him to say those words because it meant that he was accepting his reality. 

You captured his lips in with yours, sobbing and shaking against them as you cried, holding onto one another for dear life as you two only existed in each other’s arms—forgetting about the outside world. Your heart had sunk so far into your stomach, making your insides feel like they were in knots. Harry had been your safety net for so long, your source of happiness and love. But now, he was going to be added to the list of people that you had lost; the first two being your parents. 

The three most important people in your life had sailed a ship far away from you and you weren’t able to see them anymore. Maybe in another lifetime, but right now, you needed them.

It was quite ironic how Harry thought you were his ship, something that kept him afloat and content when all you felt was the numbness, the pain, and the sinking of your heart, making the depth of the ocean feel so inviting. 

A shake on his shoulder had woken an exhausted Harry up. Inhaling deeply before letting out a groan, he opened his eyes to be met with the day ahead of him. If it were any other day, he would be met with his love, looking at him so lovingly and sweetly as you would beg him to get out of bed, but he would pull you to get in the covers with him before spending half an hour of making giggly and sweet love in the morning. 

But today wasn’t any other ordinary day…it was his wedding day, and the person waking him was Anne, sadly smiling down at him as she wore a rather beautiful lilac gown. He looked at her confusingly before taking a look around the room; he was in your room and that’s when he recalled the night prior. You two fell asleep holding onto one another, whispering lovely words into one each other’s ear, pretending that the next wasn’t happening so you two could be Y/N and Harry. 

“Morning, darling. I see you’ve made your way in here last night.” 

Harry sat up, looking down at his body; he was fully clothed, and he smiled to himself at how thoughtful you were to put his clothes back on. But his smile quickly disappeared when he took a clear look around the room. Your belongings were gone and the luggage that was packed wasn’t there anymore. A piece of him felt like it was ripped out of his chest, leaving him to suffer and sleep through the nightmare. 

He sighed deeply, chin meeting his chest. “She’s really gone, Mum.” 

Anne didn’t say anything but nod. She rubbed Harry back comfortingly as she kissed his forehead. She’s never seen her son so heartbroken before; sure, she’s had to distance herself from him, but she was always observant of Harry. She noticed that whenever he walked into every room, he had a smile on his face and that was because he was laughing at something you had said or blew him a kiss that made him flustered. So, Harry being so sad and heartbroken was a new kind of Harry that she will have to encounter because for most of his life, he was always happy, never had a complaint in his life, and that was because he had you. 

“She left you this.” Anne presented a white envelope, which made his eyes widen, but he immediately took it from her hands. The front of the envelope wrote Your Highness with a heart at the end, making his heart flutter. He looked up at his mother and she smiled at him, caressing his face before planting a kiss on his cheek. “Be quick to read that. The Queen is still expecting you to be married today,” she sighed. “You have to be ready soon—the ceremony starts in an hour. Be out of this room before anyone else catches you.” Anne walked towards the door, and before she walked out, she called out for him, making Harry lift his head up. “Everything’s going to be fine. Trust me.” 

With that being said, she left your empty room, leaving him with the letter in his hands and your scent that swirled around the room, making him miss your presence even more. 

His hands shook as he carefully opened the envelope—you even spritzed some of your perfume that he loves so much as he brought the paper to his nose. Unfolding it, the letter was quite long—the entire page—and Harry could feel himself already getting emotional over it, but he read it anyway. 

My sweetest Harry, 

I am writing this in the early hours of the morning as you’re sleeping peacefully in my bed, hugging my pillow. You look so peaceful when you sleep, did you know that? Besides the occasional snoring, which I don’t mind because you know that I’m a snorer myself, you have this sense of calmness to you when you sleep. It makes me not want to wake you up in the mornings sometimes because you look like you’re at complete peace. But then I miss you too much and want your kisses so eventually, I do wake you up. 

I’m going to miss that, waking you up, and having a morning to ourselves where we get to be us. But I’m also going to miss all the other times we get to spend together. In the car on our way to events, in the courtyard running around like we’re kids, midnight strolls under the moonlight, and sneaky makeout sessions when you would pull me into a random room in the Royal House. 

I’m going to miss every single moment. 

It pains me that I am no longer by your side and we had to part this way. I’ve never felt so heartbroken in my life before, and I thought I wouldn’t ever get to feel this type of agony because I was with you. And we promised to not hurt each other, no matter what. But I’m proud of us because we kept our promise until the very end. We never hurt each other—we always talked it out and never left one another to fight one’s own battles. We were such a great team. The best team. 

You’re everything to me, Harry. My whole entire heart belongs to you, and it will always be yours as long as you hold onto it and keep it safe. Thank you for protecting my heart since we were kids. Thank you for always being there for me in a blink of an eye. You’ve truly helped me get me back on my feet when my father passed, and for that, I don’t know how to thank you enough. I felt like I'd lost the fight when he passed and I didn’t know what I was going to do, but then you reminded me that you were by my side, and for that, we won. 

It has truly been an honor to know you. To be in your presence. But to be in your heart is the greatest gift that I’ve ever received because you love like no other. There will be no other that’ll compete against you. It will always be you. 

My lips will remember the way you love, the way you taste. Your lips are my favorite, and I smile every single time I feel your touch because it’s quite unforgettable. 

You are my heart, my sun, my lover, my best friend, my dream boy, and my forever Prince that I will love for the rest of eternity. 

Thank you for loving me. Thank you for letting me into your heart, Your Highness. 

Yours forever, 

Y/N. 

With his face slightly damped from the tears that streamed down his cheeks while his eyes were swollen and red, he cried into his hands once he finished reading your letter a third time in a row. The feeling in his chest felt like it was physically tearing him apart as it was difficult to catch his breath, gasping for air through his sobs. 

All he wanted to do was to hug you, hold onto you for the rest of his life, and he would be completely satisfied with everything. But you were soon to be on a boat, sailing away from Royal Grounds, further away from him. 

He looked down at the piece of paper, making sure to not wrinkle the last physical piece he had of you. You signed your name off with a heart at the end, admiring your handwriting that he never failed to compliment every time you would handwrite him a note. Bringing the paper to his lips, he kissed your name briefly, exhaling heavy breaths through his nose before pulling away and safely putting it back into the envelope. 

His heart grieved for you two because neither of you deserved this consequential punishment that broke you two apart. 

Standing at the altar in front of hundreds of people wasn’t something Harry imagined his wedding to be like. He pictured his guest list to be quite small, only the people he truly loved and appreciated. It definitely wouldn’t have been in a large venue that held six figures worth of art. And it wouldn’t have been Venus walking down the aisle, meeting him in a white long gown with a veil covering her face. 

He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply as he felt slightly guilty. Harry knew it wasn’t his fault as to why he’s standing here, but he would have never thought he would ever be standing at the altar without you walking towards him. You two had talked about getting married and the wedding itself so many times that, naturally, it was the norm. Neither of you were scared of getting married to one another, so there was no need to worry about the other running away from the idea or the relationship. 

You always talked about wanting to get married in a garden where there would be bushes of flowers surrounding the area, giving the scene a pop of color. You two agreed on only wanting about fifteen to twenty people, most of the guests would come from Harry’s family and friends, and you would invite some of the staff that you had gotten quite close to throughout your life of living in the Royal House. You would ask Maria to walk you down the aisle as you wore a light champagne dress with hints of gold embedded into the dress; you always told Harry you didn’t want to wear a traditional white wedding dress because you would be too afraid to stain it, especially if you were going to walk on the grass. Harry didn’t mind one bit as long as you were the one walking down the aisle towards him; he would be the happiest man on Earth. 

But now as he watched Venus make her way towards him, this wasn’t the magical night he dreamed of ever since you two got together, and he wished this was a dream so you could wake him up as soon as possible. But you didn’t because it wasn’t a dream, and he realized that when he shook Venus’ father’s hand, giving her daughter away to marry the Prince as she was soon to become a Princess.

Harry and Venus stood in front of each other as she held his hands tightly, feeling that she needed to hold up his hands because he wasn’t holding onto her at all. Venus nervously gulped as she looked at the Prince; he wasn’t making eye contact with her nor the Priest. He was looking down at his shoes and the doors that she had entered as if he was impatiently waiting for someone to burst through those doors as he didn’t listen to a word of what the Priest had said. 

“Harry, do you take thee, Venus, to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, til death do you part?” 

The moment was finally here as Harry blinked his tears away, knowing two words were going to change his whole entire life. 

Your heart was beating fast as you struggled to hold onto your belongings with your two arms. You rolled two suitcases that sunk their wheels through every crack of the wooden and old dock as you walked; your duffel bags took every other bump, struggling to remain on your luggage, making you stop once again to place it back in its rightful spot. Towards the side of the dock was a schedule on what time the faerie was arriving for departure, and you had about twenty minutes to spare if there were no delays. 

It was a quite gloomy day—unfortunate that Harry had to have this kind of weather on his wedding day, but maybe that was Mother Nature’s way of expressing her sadness with you. 

You looked at your small gold watch on your left wrist—an accessory your father had given you when you turned eighteen as he told you it was your mother’s and that she used to wear it all the time. The small watch made her feel powerful, independent, and a grown woman who had grown up from the beaded bracelets she used to make when she was younger. It was a piece of your mother that you got to keep with you wherever you went, so you cherished it with your whole heart. 

When it was nearing T-minus 5 minutes, you gathered your bags and headed towards the boat where every passenger crowded around. There were quite a few people and you hoped that the boat ride off the Royal Grounds was a quiet and smooth sailing ride because with the headache you’re enduring from crying and your heartbreak, you needed silence. 

One of the members of the faerie stood on the edge of the boat with a megaphone raised to his lips. “Attention! People who are boarding for the nine o’clock departure heading West of the Royal Grounds. We seem to have noticed a last-minute complication with the engine, which will delay us for about another thirty minutes. We will update you all if we need to switch boats, but for now, hang tight and hang around. Visit the Royal gift shop and get yourself a crown!” He finished his announcement as everyone groaned as you chuckled at everyone’s reaction. You didn’t mind the delay because it meant that you got to stay on the same ground as Harry for a bit longer, even though you weren’t able to see him. 

You headed towards a bench that overlooked the ocean and set your bags close by you as you grabbed an apple from your tote that you snatched from the kitchen on your way out of the Royal House. There were little kids running around with balloons in their hands while their parents tried to chase them, telling them to be careful or they’ll fall off the dock. 

Suddenly, a little boy jogged towards you, nearly startling you. “Hello, are you Y/N?” 

You raised your brows, leaning your arms on your thighs as you wondered how he knew your name. “Why, yes, I am. And who might you be?” You asked in a friendly tone. 

“I’m Russell. This is for you.” He handed you a bouquet of a gorgeous arrangement of daisies. 

“These are lovely, thank you! Did you pick these out yourself?” 

“No, I didn’t. I was told to give them to you. Your husband wanted me to give it to you!” He exclaimed excitedly. 

“Really? And who might my husband be?” You amused him, not thinking seriously about his statement. But he suddenly pointed behind you, making you turn around in suspense. 

There he was, your Prince, smiling down at you as you looked up at him in pure disbelief. He looked dashingly handsome in a silk hot pink blouse and a floral embroidered black suit that suited him very well. You took a moment to observe him, trailing your eyes down to his hands, only to find his left ring finger bare. His face looked too happy to be married to someone who wasn’t you, but his smile looked as if it was relieved as if his worst nightmare had come to an end. He was relaxed, the complete opposite of the trepidation that he held for weeks. 

Your observation was coming to a conclusion, and once you realized what was happening, you matched his smile as you stood up. 

“Your Highness,” you curtsied, making him giggle. 

Before he could explain to you why he was standing in front of you with no security, he turned to the little boy who had helped him. “Russell, thank you for delivering the flowers to my wife.” 

“Your welcome, Prince Harry!” The little boy bowed excitedly before running off to his mother who was waiting and watching on the sidelines. 

Once Russell was safe with his mother, you turned back towards Harry. “Your wife, huh?” You raised your brows, teasing him as you masked your giddiness. You intertwined your hands behind yourself, containing yourself from reaching out and grabbing him. 

“Yeah, my actual wife—someday—not the one that was walking towards me earlier.” 

You smiled softly, still lost on why he’s in front of you. “What are you doing here?” 

“I left. I ran away from the altar. I couldn’t do it, Princess. No matter how mad the Queen would be, I couldn’t marry that woman,” he explained. You exhaled in relief, tears pricking your eyes. “I felt guilty, y’know? Never have I imagined standing at the altar without you. It was…weird and I didn’t like it.” 

“How did you even manage to do that? To run away?” 

Harry slightly chuckled. “Mum helped me.” 

“Really?” Your eyes widened as you were in shock. 

“Yeah,” he answered, explaining to you what happened thirty minutes prior to him racing to the dock to find you. 

When the Priest was reciting the vows, he waited on Harry’s promise to marry Venus. But Harry had turned his head to look at his mum before earning a nod of approval. He turned his head back to Venus, and she had some sort of look of understanding like she knew Harry clearly hadn’t signed up for this wedding—to marry her. Harry gave Venus a small smile that apologized for what he was about to do before turning to the Priest and telling him that he couldn’t do any of what he had said. The guests’ chatter had increased, some softly gasping as they wondered why the Prince wasn’t complying with the marriage. 

He let go of Venus’ hands, heading towards Anne to give her a kiss on the cheek. Anne had sneakily handed him a pair of keys to one of the Rolls Royce cars, and he smiled in appreciation. He glanced at Elaine, not even bothering to say goodbye to his Nan, but Elaine had a few words herself, so she grabbed Harry’s wrists before he walked down the aisle. 

“Walk out those doors, and you wouldn’t even be considered a Prince anymore, you are not allowed back on Royal Grounds if you walk out, and you are no longer going to be part of this family,” she warned, eyes piercing with such disappointment.

He gave Elaine one last look before yanking his arm out of her hold, which earned a loud gasp from the guests. Elaine looked around at the people who had watched the two, and she felt embarrassment heat up in her cheeks. 

Once Harry walked out the doors, he jogged to the front of the Royal House where Gemma had closed the trunk. He took his sister into his arms, hugging her tightly and gratefully. 

“Thank you, Gemma. For everything,” he said, giving her an extra squeeze. She patted his back before pulling away, giving him a smile. 

“I’m proud of you, H. Now, go and get her. I’ve already flagged down the captain and told him to delay the boat for thirty minutes, so you should hurry before the other passengers start to fret. And the boat you two are going on should be ready by the time you’re there.” 

He smiled. “Thank you, again. I’ll see you soon? I’ll call you from wherever I am.” She nodded, telling him to reach out soon. “You take care of yourself, alright? Don’t take shit from her. You and Sebastian deserve to be with each other.” 

“I will. I won’t. And yes, we do,” she answered in the order Harry said, making him chuckle. “Now, go. You’re making her wait.” She patted his back once more before he got into the car. 

With one last wave, he was off to the docks where the love of his life was waiting for him. 

“So, here I am,” Harry said with a smile, arms opening as he presented himself. You smiled widely, giggling. You were still in shock how he simply gave up his family and his position to once rule the country for you. You knew he would do anything for you, but this was more than anything—this was leaving his family for good, walking away from being connected to royalty. And he left it all behind. For you. 

“Here you are,” you breathed out a chuckle. “I can't believe you’re here. That you didn’t marry that woman.” 

“You know I couldn’t do that. You’re the only one I want to marry, the only one I wanna see walk down the aisle, wearing a beautiful champagne gown.” You were slightly taken back, tears glazing your eyes; he remembered the small detail you had told him about not wanting to wear a traditional white dress to your wedding. “So, you’re not the Prince anymore, hmm?” 

Harry shook his head. “Nope. Not gonna leave me to find another Prince, are you?” He joked, raising his brows. You playfully slapped his chest, but he caught your hand, bringing it up to his lips as he placed a chaste kiss on the back of your hand. 

“Course not. I’ve had a Prince of my own for the past five years.” You unconsciously reached towards him to straighten his jacket. He pulled you forward by the hand that he was already holding, and your chest was pressed together against his with your faces inches away from one another as you looked up at him. 

“Our six-year anniversary is coming up soon. How should we celebrate?” 

“Hmm, now that we have all the time in the world, wanna go on vacation? I’ve been dying to go to Italy,” you suggested, and Harry’s eyes lightened up as if you had suggested the greatest idea ever. 

“I would love that. Where in Italy are you thinking about? Because I’ve been thinking of the Amalfi Coast. Think about it…driving along the coast, cliff diving, swimming in the ocean. Sounds nice, huh?” You nodded your head at his plans. 

“Sounds amazing. Maybe we could…get married there?” You suggested another plan hesitantly, testing the waters to see how he felt about it. 

“You wanna get married? Next month?” You nodded your head. “Are you proposing?” 

“Only if you say yes.” You wrapped your arms around his waist, kissing his chin. 

“You know I will.” A tint of pink hit his cheeks as he smiled down at you. 

He leaned down to place a tender kiss on the tip of your nose, and when he pulled back, your eyes sparkled with such love and happiness—a gleam that he’s missed seeing in your eyes, and a gleam he would make sure was always there as long as you two were together. 

“Well, in that case…Your Highness, my love, will you do the honor of becoming my husband in one month?” You asked with a hopeful and playful tone as you couldn’t contain your smile. 

“Of course, my Princess. Wouldn't wanna be by anyone else,” he answered as you softly squealed. 

Harry placed his hands on your jaw, gently bringing your face to his. His forehead rested against you as the tip of your noses touched, giving one another an Eskimo kiss. Your lips merely brushed together so delicately as you smiled once you felt his touch. With one last small touch, Harry kissed you with such passion and devotion as you two moved your lips in sync. The kiss spoke every beautiful and exquisite word in the dictionary that it wouldn’t be enough to describe how tenderly and passionate he kissed you, and how much love your heart held for him. 

 Neither of you cared if there were bystanders, wondering why the Prince was kissing someone in the middle of the Royal Grounds, in public. But there was not one hint of care because you two were together, and this kiss indicated what’s to come for the rest of your lifetime. 

He pulled away, and you were so caught up in the sensation and the feeling that you didn’t realize that he had stopped kissing you. When you opened your eyes, you were met by your favorite green eyes that stared at you with a big smile on his face, dimple indenting his face. 

“I love you so much, Princess, you have no idea.” His words were slow, hoping to engrave them into your mind so you wouldn’t forget it. 

“And I love you, too, Your Highness.” He smiled, pressing a quick kiss to your lips, too quick for your liking. 

“Now, c’mon, we have a ship to catch.” Harry grabbed one of your bags as he held one of the duffle bags on his shoulder. He informed you that you two were going to take the family ship and that his belongings were already loaded on the ship. 

You nodded, grabbing the other luggage and duffle bag. You turned around, taking a look back at the Royal House that peeked behind many buildings and trees. This was the end of the story, and it was time to start a new one. You were able to close the book and set it down while you reflect on the memories you had made in one house with the one person who had your heart. 

Sure, you don’t know where you and Harry would be settling down; maybe you two would constantly move around and travel the world since neither of you got the chance to do so, but whatever the universe had in store for you both, you were glad to do it with Harry by your side. 

“Hey, are you coming with or what?” Harry called out, making you turn around. A smile that was brighter than the sun was plastered on his face as his arm reached out in front of him, palm facing up, telling you that it was time to leave. That it was time to start a new life together. 

You smiled, walking towards him as your eyes were glossy. Taking his hand and intertwining your fingers with his, he held your hand tight as you two crossed the ramp that was securely resting on the edge of the dock and the edge of the boat. 

You leaned against the railing of the boat, looking out at the deep ocean that you once felt like you were drowning in. But once Harry’s arms wrapped around your waist, chest pressed up against your back while his lips attached to the skin behind your ear, you no longer felt like your ship was sinking. It was smooth sailing and immensely happy. 

please come into my inbox and tell me all of your thoughts, feelings, and favorite moments! thank you for reading <3

[appleflavoredkitkats]

Sam, Tommy’s Death, and the Trolley Problem

Ranboo: “You are the CREATOR of the prison and the person that had you make that protocol is the person in the prison, making you the HIGHEST authority. You could’ve done SOMETHING. You could’ve done ANYTHING to help and you DIDN’T... You could’ve changed protocol.”

Sam: “...I couldn’t risk Dream getting out.”

1:02:32 of “He’s gone? || Dream SMP” by RanbooLive

I have to admit, I’m not the most well-versed person when it comes to philosophy and psychology as I’d like to be, but when I was watching Ranboo’s newest stream, I can’t help but find connections between Sam’s dilemma and the Trolley Problem.

[essay under the cut | word count: approximately 1k]

Devised by the philosopher Philippa Foot in 1967, the Trolley Problem goes a little something like this: There is an unstoppable trolley on a train track. At the farther end of the track, there are five people who are stuck, unable to move. You, however, are stood next to a lever that can change the trolley’s direction, but on the other train track, there is one person stuck instead of five. The question is, would you push the lever?

90% of people who were proposed this dilemma tend to push the lever- I bet people who are reading this would even choose to push the lever. Most people would reason that they would push the lever because they believe one casualty is always better than five, and losing the life of one person will never amount to the catastrophe of losing five people’s lives. We view this as the action that is “morally better”, hence why we would pick that over the other option.

All of this extends from the philosophy of utilitarianism, or the theory of morals and ethical beliefs and choices. Despite how we think that saving the lives of five over one is better, most people would argue that that isn’t always the case as circumstances could change what people would choose. For example, let’s take the Trolley Problem once more, but instead of a lever, you had the choice of pushing one person in front of the train in order to stop it from potentially killing those five people stuck on the track- would you do it? What about an alternative situation wherein the five people are racist, and the other person is a person of color?

There are many factors to determine in situations like this, and ultimately, there is no definitive correct answer. Additionally, dilemmas like this should not be pondered about 24/7 because some people argue that the chances of this actually happening in real life is unlikely. While there are occasions it does happen, like when one becomes a nurse, or if one had to program self-driving cars, the problem itself is still quite rare. 

Most people who often have moral dilemmas or often question their own sense of philosophy tend to get immensely lost when faced with a dilemma like this. Because of the lack of a definitive answer, one might question how “good” they might be judging by what they believe is right when dissecting the Trolley Problem. I’ve had friends who are super into philosophy spiral downwards at the mere discussion of the Trolley Problem because there will never be a truly ethical choice with this. In situations like this, someone will still die, and the idea of it haunts people who think about this dilemma often.

The main solution to this type of problem though is to realize that the chances of us encountering the problem in real life would be highly unlikely. There’s no rush to find the ultimate answer to the Trolley Problem, and there is no need to find your true stance on the issue, because utilitarianism is very complicated, and there will never be a correct answer. The Trolley Problem is a lose-lose situation, and you shouldn’t define yourself and your morality with a problem that most likely won’t occur in real life.

Now, the scary part about the Trolley Problem though is that as much as it is unlikely in our own world, in the world of the Dream SMP, it is much, much more likely to happen- and that is fucking terrifying.

Many people argue that it was 100% Sam’s fault that Tommy died in the hands of Dream. I agree that most of the prison’s protocols could have been adjusted, and that was undoubtedly Sam’s fault, but you have to consider what Sam fears of happening if he ever breaks protocol.

Ranboo: So, tell me if I’m wrong about this: the way that the prison works- the lava goes down, the bridge goes out, the visitor steps on, the lava goes down. Then, what happens after to get the visitor out? Why couldn’t you have done just the same thing, Sam?

Sam: ...Because what if Dream was waiting for me to do that?

1:03:40 of “He’s gone? || Dream SMP” by RanbooLive

Sam thinks highly of Dream. He’s afraid that anything he does, no matter how ideal it initially seems, would work according to whatever Dream’s plans are. He didn’t break protocol because he believed it would accidentally free Dream from his confines. Sam views Dream as an unstoppable force, as something that will not relent if given the chance to rise once more.

And once Tommy was trapped in prison as the explosions went off, he was faced with an ultimatum: Does he risk breaking protocol to get Tommy out only for Dream to break free as well and inevitably cause more havoc, affecting the entirety of the Dream SMP, or does he trap Tommy in there with Dream, risking Tommy’s last canon life for the ensured safety of the Dream SMP?

When proposed the Trolley Problem, 90% of people would’ve picked to push the lever and kill the singular person at the other side of the track. Initially, it seems like an easy solution, but Sam’s perspective and viewpoint of Tommy’s death makes us comprehend the true severity of the issue. Do we sacrifice the lives of five, or the life of one? Do we sacrifice the safety of the Dream SMP, or the life of Tommy?

And there will never be a true answer to this. Sam did what he believed was the most appropriate choice, but he also knew that neither choice was moral. I just hope that people don’t antagonize Sam immediately because these types of dilemmas are difficult to answer. Sam had two options to choose from, and making a final decision on what to do in this type of scenario would be terrifying. It’s a lose-lose situation. Both options are inhumane, both options have terrifying consequences, and we cannot antagonize Sam for picking what he thought was right between two immensely horrendous options.

Even if it means sacrificing the life of Tommy.

/dsmp /rp

[sk1fanfiction]

the many faces of tom riddle, part 5

 - more myth than man... or not? the mortality of tom riddle and the anatomy of a villain-

That leaves us with Ralph Fiennes’ portrayal of adult Tom Riddle/Lord Voldemort in movies 4-8.

I generally find adult Tom Riddle disappointing, even in the books, in terms of character depth. Instead of delving into his motivations and the inner psychology of a villain, we get... slight body horror? And in the movies, it’s even more egregious. 

If a story is as good as its villain, adult Tom Riddle is a bit of a let-down, especially on-screen.

“I was ripped from my body, I was less than spirit, less than the meanest ghost . . . but still, I was alive.”

Perhaps the very first time I watched it, I found this scary, but I must confess that nowadays, Voldemort’s resurrection is more funny to me than anything else. The forked tongue and the nose slits, yes, are supposed to allude to Tom Riddle’s loss of humanity, but I don’t think it...worked out that way in practice.

I know that’s how it is in the books, but ugly equals evil (and vice versa) is a tired trope. not only that, but under the CGI, Lord Voldemort is so difficult to relate to, so inhuman, that it’s hard to (1) see his true depravity (2) connect with him emotionally (3) at least for me, not laugh at him flapping around the graveyard in GOF like an oversized crow. 

Now, the reason I’m going on about this is not (just) me being petty. Lord Voldemort is the Boggart for most of the characters in the HP universe, meaning their greatest fear is Lord Voldemort. He represents Fear; as such, he should be utterly terrifying. Now, I don’t mean horrifying in that sense, but Voldemort’s grand entrance should at least feel somewhat unsettling, have some sort of a Gothic atmosphere...

"But then, through the mist in front of him, he saw, with an icy surge of terror, the dark outline of a man, tall and skeletally thin, rising slowly from inside the cauldron."

Visually, this looks great. But it’s not scary. And I’m not a purist by any means, but the words are scarier than the book. Darkness induces fear. 

“The lack of any kind of visual stimuli increases anxiety, uncertainty, and tension.”

So, having Voldemort’s pale body materialize isn’t as scary as it could be.

Furthermore, I think Fiennes’ overexaggerated expressions would actually come across as properly horrifying/threatening rather than funny if they just left his face alone. Yes, Fiennes does manage to emote the fear and the anger through the CGI, but it’s like he’s too alien to be scary, at least to me. The amount of memes with Voldemort suggest I’m not the only one this way inclined.

I think there’s probably a problem going on with the uncanny valley. (Images from the Mori essay linked).

[When things are still]

[Creepy things are creepier when moving]

Now, I assume Voldemort is meant to be zombie-creepy, or at least that how Harry describes him in the books.

"The thin man stepped out of the cauldron, staring at Harry...and Harry stared back into the face that had haunted his nightmares for three years. Whiter than a skull, with wide, livid scarlet eyes and a nose that was flat as a snake's but with slits for nostrils...."

Now, we can’t get Harry’s experience of being haunted by Voldemort in his dreams, because what I think makes Voldemort’s countenance so truly frightening to the other characters isn’t his snake-like nose or his red eyes, but the potential. Voldemort is, in essence, the Grim Reaper. You are at his mercy, and you’re probably going to be dead. 

“This time, I shall enter the fray myself, Harry Potter, and I shall find you, and I shall punish every last man, woman, and child who has tried to conceal you from me. One hour.“

And yes, Voldemort can be quite funny and witty, but..

“I will allow you to perform an essential task for me, one that many of my followers will give their right hands to perform.” (To Peter Pettigrew)

...it’s still incredibly dark, sadistic humour. Whereas the teenage Tom Riddle we’ve been discussing has just barely dipped his toes into evil, Voldemort is, well... swimming in it. At this point, he think he undeniably enjoys causing pain.

And much of what makes Voldemort scary is subtle. 

For example, what I personally consider haunting is the fact that he’s got a cave full of Inferi. A cave full of reanimated dead bodies. 

Either he dug them up, which is unlikely... or perhaps, a twenty-seven-or-so-year-old Tom Riddle would lie in wait like a bird of prey, very quietly and patiently, perhaps reading a book, waiting for an unsuspecting Muggle to wander past. Maybe killing is a game to him at this point, when it’s not so personal as killing Harry Potter. Maybe it’s a whispered Avada Kedavra, and then he carries the dead body away to his cave. Maybe he Imperiuses them to walk off the cliff. Maybe he tortures them first.

Shudder.

And I don’t think you can show that kind of horror through any CGI or make-up, so...

You know what is terrifying? Revolting? True crime; real-life people who do unspeakably horrible things. And I think a lot was missed out on, in stripping Tom Riddle physically of his humanity. Yes, Riddle is a monster...

But, as we’ve seen, he’s a human monster, not some eldritch horror from the seventh level of hell or something.

I just think it would be interesting to have this perfectly normal-looking human do all the horrific things Voldemort does. I want to see that sick joy in a human face and feel disgusted. I want to see fear make his bottom lip tremble, and feel a misplaced sense of empathy. (Think President Snow from the Hunger Games -- now, that’s a sick, twisted villain who we can relate to as a human being, but still love to hate -- or what about The Joker?).

And out of everything they chose to CGI, why on earth did they not make his eyes scarlet? That might have made him look at least somewhat menacing, rather than a failed lab experiment.

(Don’t even get me started on his and Bellatrix’s death scenes in the movies-)

Here’s President Snow. He’s got a cute little granddaughter, he sends kiddies to kill each other Battle Royale-style every year, and he poisons all his political opponents. He’s also a master manipulator and has a penchant for white roses. They cover up the smell of the sores in his mouth from eating the poison too, to conceal his treachery.

Heath Ledger as the Joker in Dark Knight (2008), who is, according to NYT (which I totally agree with), the best Joker. Now this is a villain done right, with many Voldemort-like traits. On a scale of one-to-ten, he’s absolutely terrifying. Why? He’s (unlike Voldemort in the movies) incredibly intelligent, shows young-Tom-Riddle-like skills for charm and manipulation, plays with humans like they’re his own personal psychology experiment (and to hell with the Institutional Review Board), and has one, single, very clear goal -- chaos. Like Voldemort, he wears an inhuman mask that’s not horrifying in its own right; but unlike Voldemort, the human is all there -- terrifying, real, and with a bottomless, obsessive desire to destroy. His disordered thinking is all out there for the audience to see. The Joker’s motivation is to enjoy himself; whereas Voldemort seems to lack drive. Why does he want to take over the world -- who knows, with Voldemort? The Joker wants to see it burn.

Let’s try to do the same with Lord Voldemort:

[SLIGHT FLASH WARNING]

I had to go with this because Voldemort isn’t legitimately terrifying in many scenes. And yes, this unrefined anger somewhat speaks to Tom’s immaturity

By this point, seventy-one year old Tom Riddle is a hollowed-out shell of a human being. After decades of building his power, he was defeated by a one-year-old, and ended up slumming it as a spirit for a decade, got defeated again, was a shrivelled-up baby for a year, then finally got his body back.

He’s angry, okay! And Fiennes does a great job of portraying the sheer, destructive, unbridled rage of this character.

The body language. again, since his face is inhuman, this is super important. and Fiennes’ body language is great. Voldemort/Riddle commits to his actions. He is very emotionally-driven.

But yet, he doesn’t feel capable, in the way that the Joker or President Snow do. Yeah, we know anecdotally that he’s incredibly evil, sadistic, and second only to Dumbledore in terms of power, but he loses to a baby, and then that same baby as a teenager. So, we really could have done with seeing Voldemort’s power, cruelty, and evil firsthand a lot more often.

Voldemort is not well-characterized. I don’t understand his motives, and the ones that I do understand are not compelling.

Not to die? Well, he’s already made several Horcruxes. Why not sit back and relax? Why start a war and risk himself?

JKR said that Voldemort’s great desire was to become all-powerful and eternal. But that’s... boring! It does little to tell us about Voldemort, other than that he’s a villain and a wannabe dictator. 

Furthermore, the charm, manipulation, and cunning that are hallmarks of younger Tom Riddle’s personality are gone.

Is Voldemort (to return to Jungian terms) all shadow? An empty creature of simple creation and destruction, perhaps? We’ll discuss this further down...

And this isn’t a problem of having a fantastical world with magic and the like. Grindelwald’s quiet, self-possessed, almost coy “So you think you can hold me?” was infinitely scarier than anything that has ever come out of Voldemort’s mouth. It was chilling. 

OOTP is my favorite book, and the Ministry sequence is one of my favourite in the films. 

This scene where he psyches out Harry, talking so quietly that he could just be a little voice inside his head (and again, during the possession scene)? Absolute perfection. 

Why? Because this showcases what’s truly scary about him. Voldemort can get into your head. He can make you do things. And perhaps, if we had seen that more often, we’d understand how scary he is.

I wish this had been his grand entrance, and not whatever that scene in GOF was. Somehow, him screeching “I WANT TO SEE THE LIGHT LEAVE YOUR EYES!” is not menacing. At all. 

But, I can’t help but think how much greater the emotional affect would be if he had more human features (think the burned-and-blurred, waxy features from Dumbledore’s memory). 

Just imagine these scenes if Voldemort looked human, and spoke as quietly as he did in this one.

Because of the reason that I have little to go on in terms of characterization that I haven’t already covered, we’ll discuss the myth and legend of Lord Voldemort.

I can’t decide if the statue in the films is supposed to be the Angel of Death or the Grim Reaper. He has a skeleton and carries a scythe, but he also has wings. There are so many different interpretations, attitudes towards, and personifications of Death across the world that I don’t want to draw any one conclusion. But I must wonder if Lord Voldemort, with his yew-and-phoenix wand (which carries heavy symbolism of immortality and rebirth) and almost deified figure is meant to be a personification of Death himself? His name, Lord Voldemort, is a shade close to Lord Death.

For years, it has stumped me that wizards and witches are afraid to utter Voldemort’s name, especially since we only see the Taboo in the middle of the last book. It didn’t make sense just based on fear; in the real world, we don’t circumvent Hitler’s name, for example.

Perhaps this may have been obvious to others, but it wasn’t to me.

Here’s a counterargument to myself; why Voldemort shouldn’t look human.

Voldemort, in the Wizarding World, is seen as a literal deity.

I promised to attempt to answer this question in Part 3: 

And so, I can’t help but wonder if the opposite is true… if Tom Riddle creates Horcruxes, would that grant him additional magic powers?

In Part 3, I likened Tom Riddle to a sorcerer in Russian folklore, Koschei the Deathless, also famous for sequestering his soul in objects. This source suggests that Koschei was considered not an ordinary magician, but a representative of the ‘other’ world, the world of death.

So, what if... creating Horcruxes makes you... more than human? Now, I could definitely see god-like status being appealing to sixteen-year-old Tom Riddle. Perhaps, even appealing enough to kill for. Now, his proclivity for Avada Kedavra makes sense. We know it’s an incredibly sinister spell, but at the same time, it’s a very humane way to kill. Why might it be so horrifying?

Here’s a weird theory.

To the best of my knowledge, no one but Voldemort is seen using the Killing Curse more than once or twice. 

Perhaps, ordinary mortals can only cast Avada Kedavra a few times, but Tom, having split his soul and having become in some way a non-human instrument of Death, can cast it however many times as he likes, and that is part of what serves to make him so terrifying.

This makes the idea of Voldemort tossing around Avada Kedavras actually incredibly terrifying, if you take into account what that might mean.

The collective cultural fear of speaking Voldemort’s name supports this theory.

Take the chthonic (underworld) deities of Greek mythology; most notably, Hades and Persephone, the king and queen of the underworld.

Hades, the god of the dead, was feared. 

So feared that the word ‘Hades’ (”the unseen one”) was so frightening, that people came up with all sorts of euphemisms to circumvent actually saying it and he was rarely even depicted in art. For example, they would refer to him as Pluto (”the rich one”), Clymenus ("notorious"), Polydegmon ("who receives many"), and perhaps Eubuleus ("good counsel" or "well-intentioned"), amongst many other names. 

However, he was not seen as evil; just stern, cruel, and fair. Like most Greek gods, he had an associated cult (the Death Eaters, anyone?)

Another interesting connection between Hades and Voldemort is that Hades was associated with snakes.

Persephone (suggested to have a pre-Greek origin and probably pre-dates Hades), who was also a vegetation/fertility/spring goddess, similarly, was referred to as Despoina (”the mistress”), Kore (”the maiden”), etc, because as the terrible Queen of the Dead, it was considered unsafe to speak her name aloud. In mythology and literature, she is sometimes referred to as ‘dread Persephone.’

--Just like how Lord Voldemort is referred to as The Dark Lord, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, You-Know-Who... (and if you’re Dumbledore, ‘Tom’.)

Her central myth served as the context for the secret rites of regeneration at Eleusis (which was basically a mystery cult devoted to her and her mother, Demeter), which promised immortality to initiates.

We don’t know for certain what exactly went on, because, mystery cult -- the members were sworn to secrecy -- but it revolved around immortality and rebirth and possibly psychoactive drugs. 

Perhaps ironically, in comparison to the Death Eaters, anyone could join, as long as they could speak Greek and had never committed murder.

And that concludes my assessment!

[scarfdyedshadow]

On the Decline of Mage Characterization in Ancillary Type-Moon Works (or On Magi Getting Flanderized Into One-Dimensional Evil Arrogant Sods) Part 1: The Matter of Magi Themselves

Yes, I am dumb enough and obsessed enough to basically write an entire essay on this. Yes, the title is pretentious as all hell.

A disclaimer before we start though, this is not directed at or meant to condemn or call out or mock or invalidate the many a Tumblr shitpost on evil arrogant magi getting owned by Guda or various other characters. It may not be humor personally up my alley, but I understand the appeal, and it’s not like there isn’t some grain of truth to them. Likewise this isn’t meant to in any way condone anything Nasuverse magi. A fair amount of them are evil regardless of mitigating circumstances, a lot of the ones that aren’t outright evil have capacity to be evil because of ethos and mindset, and the acts they commit are certainly evil. I am not condoning them, or dismissing them as not evil. I simply urge a more nuanced rather than simplistic analysis of that evil. This also unfortunately omits Mahoyo, which probably has quite a bit of insight, because I haven’t gotten around to reading it yet, thus rendering me a fake fan you should not listen to. Thank you for your consideration. Also, spoilers.

This first part is primarily concerned with the inhumanity of magi and misconceptions about magi and their ethos as a whole, while the next part will actually go into the history of magus villains in Type-Moon works and what I feel is their decline, and build upon and further points of this part. There may be a potential third part on the Crypters, Gordolf, and Olga, the modern faces of Nasuverse magi and the greatest illustration that magi are far more nuanced, complex, pitiful and yet admirable, than they aren’t, and Nasu’s thesis statement on the power of love and life.

(Note: Okay my theme is actually pretty eyesearing to the point I recommend you read this on dash, I’ll go get it fixed)

"Do you know what it is that magi are aiming for?"

After a moment of blankness, Gray replied with a difficult expression.

"Umm...I heard about it in class. What was it...the Spiral of Origin?"

"Right. The Spiral of Origin, or more simply the Root. Sometimes it's referred to as「 」, the thing for which there can be no reference. It is the source of everything, the 'zero' from which all matter and phenomena flow. Ah, but now that I'm trying to put it into words, I'm realizing that's not a good idea. After all, even the idea of 'zero' has baggage that makes it unsuitable as a comparison."

"Regardless, the goal of magi is to eventually reach that place. Of course, there are also those who simply derive pleasure from touching the supernatural, or from being superhuman. Because we are weak, we fall to that diversion. But in the end, that's not our ultimate goal."

For modern magi, most understood that reaching the root was something that just wasn't possible for them. After all, even though magecraft itself had been in a state of continuing decline since the Age of Gods, there were no reports of anyone facing that past and trying to return to it. Likely, the appearance in the Far East of the fifth - and often called the last - Magician was the same as the gate to the Root being all but closed to everyone else.

Even so, we didn't give up.

Anyone who would give up in a situation like this would never have become a magus to begin with.

Ironically enough, despite opening up with a quote from Lord El-Melloi II Case Files, which I’ll have some critique for, the crux of my thesis is this. As originally presented in Kara no Kyoukai, and generally only kept up to a meaningful degree in other Nasu written works like Stay Night, Clock Tower 2015, and Grand Order, magi were the piteous, tragic, inhuman not as in inhumane but as in a broken machine product of an impossible ideal and a broken system. They were the villains, yes, unambiguously so, but at the same time they were sympathetic and nuanced to an extent that would decline down the road.

You see, Araya. A mage always lives hurriedly. What for? If it was for themselves alone they wouldn't bother with the outside world. So why do they intrude upon the rest of the world? Why do they rely upon it? What will they achieve with that power? What will they save with the Ars Magna (Ars Magna: Meaning 'great secret technique', it stands not for a technique that is not learnt through study but for a mystery that is secretly passed down)? If that was the case it would have been better for them to become a king instead of a mage.

You think people live foully, but you yourself would not be able to live like that. You would not be able to live while accepting the fact that you know that everything is worthless and base. You would not be able to live without the pride of knowing that you alone are special, and that you alone can save this crumbling world. Of course, I was like that too. But that sort of thing has no meaning. --- Accept it, Araya. We chose the path of transcendence called magecraft because we are weaker than everybody else.

Magi were presented as absurd, as farcical, as maddeningly helpless and hopeless compared to those living normal lives. This will come up in Part 2, especially as pertains to Touko and Gordolf and the like, but normal everyday life, not superior thematic superpowers or an army of Servants, is what is truly far more powerful than any magi.

"... I'll just ask one thing. What do you mean when you say that secrets are kept even within that Association?"

Unexpectedly, I hear something from the sofa.

Over there is Shiki, who has been sitting there since before without a word. She's the type of person who doesn't get involved in a conversation that she's not interested in, so until now she had been staring at the scenery outside the window.

"--- There is that. A mage won't reveal the results of his experiments even within the Association. What the person next to them is researching, what their goals are, and what they have obtained are all a mystery. The only time a mage will reveal the results of their work is when they are passing it on to their descendants just before they die."

"Studying for their benefit alone, yet not using that power for their own sake? What purpose is there in a life like that, Touko? Is it that the goal is to learn, and the process is to learn too? If the only things you have are the beginning and the end, that's the same as having a zero."

Their pursuit for the truth is maddening. It is greedy yet at once devoid of greed. It is selfish yet at once devoid of selfishness. Their ethos and methodology are not fundamentally inhumane, but inhuman. Magi are an odd sort of creature indeed, and it isn’t the case that they’re all evil in their absurd quest. Indeed, virtually all early Nasuverse ancillary material, and this is still said today despite the opposite being true in practice, is that the vast majority of magi are shut ins who stay inside researching as opposed to eating babies.

The everyday life of a magus is mostly spent conducting research. Magi who use magic outside of a research capacity, such as those who use magi to work and profit for themselves, are few in number. People who treat magic as a tool, such as assassins, are called “spellcasters”, and are looked down upon with disdain by the magical establishment.

Furthermore, it is precisely because they are magi that few magi use magic in their daily lives.

Practically speaking, for every mage you see committing mass murder or fighting the mass murdering mage with superpowers, there are ten who we certainly can’t call conventionally moral, who we certainly can’t call normal humans, obsessively striving towards a seemingly impossible goal inhumanly but not inhumanely. Because Type-Moon does action series this has never been tenable to properly depict besides the minority, but it is the truth regardless. This is from a later work I actually have some measure of criticism for, but Strange Fake actually illustrates that point perfectly.

"A mage's mage," he muttered disgustedly to himself, eyes narrowed, "is no different from a hard-working corrupt politician." What about me? He wondered as soon as the words were out of his mouth. As long as corruption stayed hidden, it was difficult for the public to tell the difference between a corrupt politician and an honest one. In which case, mages, who never entered the public eye to begin with, probably ought to be lumped in with them. There were exceptions, but from the standpoint of the general public, mages were generally evil.

Other Nasu written works like Stay Night and Clock Tower 2015 also touch upon it.

Magic is just what it sounds like… magic. I don't care if you get ideas like abracadabra or whatever. You can just think of us as people who do strange things by casting spells. Oh, though it's not like we fly around on brooms or make stars appear with a wave of a wand. …Well, we could do that, but we don't bother as it's kind of meaningless. We're basically heretics who hide ourselves from the world. We're prohibited from standing out and even if we weren't, we would rather be at home studying magic.

Clock Tower 2015 especially hits it up by depicting what might be called the ideal magus, the point of being a magus that is often distorted by human concerns but that all of them are to some extent, not an inhumane monster but an inhuman man who has dedicated his life to magecraft.

"Ahhh, the life of a magus is so brief. It would have been great if I were born with just the brain and nothing else." Like what you just saw, Leiv was a pure academic magus. All his efforts were poured solely into his theory and magecraft. He cared naught of any other responsibilities, the application of his magecraft, his lineage, or building his faction. From Leiv's perspective, those magi were the same as the plebians that were "normal people". If one were to decipher the mystical, then he must sacrifice his humanity. A magus was a creature with nothing but magecraft on his mind. There was no room for burdens such as "life".

So to begin with, what we call magi are far from all arrogant murderous sods, and if anything arrogant murderous sods are the minority. They come in all manner of varieties, united simply by the pursuit of the impossible, by the desire to reach the truth, by the desire to transcend. Even more so than just that, they do have their values and ethics. They are often cruelly distorted, to the extent “magi parents” is a phrase that might as well be an oxymoron, but I would opine that as a product more of recent years than anything.

"Keep those for me. They are some awful cigarettes from Taiwan but I only have those now. Of course there isn't any company that made them, it's a famous item that some eccentric master made only one box of. Yeah, out of all my possessions that is the second most valuable thing I have." Leaving behind some strange words, she turned around and walked out. ... Perhaps her most valuable possession is herself, that kind of thought popped into my mind so I asked her, but she only turned back her head and answered. "That's rather rude. I know it's me but even I don't treat people like possessions." Like herself when she has her glasses on, she pouts as if she's sulking. And then, returning to her usual cool expression Touko-san continued talking. "Kokuto. Those people called mages, with an apprentice or other people they are close to they feel like parents. Since they are something like their offspring, they often fight desperately to protect them as well. ... Well, it's like that so relax and wait here. I'll bring Shiki back tonight." Thock thock, the sound of her walking away. Unable to say anything to her back, I let the brown-coated magician go.

That magi value their children, their apprentices, their legacies, even if only as a next step on the path to the Root, is also a truth echoed at the same time that it’s often contradicted. But then, magi are in of themselves contradictory creatures. After all, despite pursuing an inhuman ideal, despite throwing away their humanity, they themselves are still human. That contradiction between reality and ideals, best exemplified by Fate/Stay Night, is one of the themes at the heart of Nasu’s work.

So, to repeat it once more, magi as a whole, magi society as a whole, is not fundamentally inhumane but inhuman. That inhumanity often lends itself to the inhumane, but not necessarily, and indeed I opine that should be considered on a deeper level. That inhuman society is by no means a good thing, but to simply call it evil and magi evil and call it a day is to do a disservice to its nuance. There are arrogant murderous magi as well, sure, but they too are products of a tenacious ideal, they are the long shadow cast by lineages stretching for thousands of years.

In reality, what really forged the magus of the modern day was not a supernatural power or transcendent conscience, but a tenacity built and reinforced over generations. Clinging to a shadowed, intense ideology for hundreds, or in some cases even thousands of years, developed its own sort of extreme power. Even if science were to exceed magecraft in all other respects, as long as that ideal survived, magecraft itself would be ineradicable.

But what then of Souren Araya? What of that bastard Zouken and worst dad of the year Tokiomi and that arrogant asshole Kayneth? Rest well assured that I will cover them in exacting detail in the next part of whatever the hell this is, and everything I say about them will build upon this. That may seem contradictory, since this part is mostly devoted to showing that magi are far more than just evil sods, but believe it or not Kayneth is going to be mightily relevant to how pitifully weak magi in truth are, and Tokiomi is going to be relevant to how magi value their children in ways that don’t have to be inhumane, but can be inhuman. Until next time, all I can ask is to consider that while magi are indeed monsters, monsters really can be quite interesting creatures.

Things in this world were all like that.

It wasn’t limited to magecraft. It wasn’t limited to those beyond humans (monsters). In a world of common sense (the obvious), it was something everyone understood.

If you said that misunderstandings, miscommunications, disagreements, and false understandings are what connected them, then...

“We are misrecognition. Our world itself is misunderstanding. We can experience a multitude of truths, not just one single reality. No matter how wise you are, or how much time you are given, you will never reach something like a single truth. Magi may just be those who continually reject that fact.”

Speaking as if in self-deprecation, my master had pursed his lips at that.

He had finally realized that his words and the objective that all Magi pursued, known as the “Spiral of Origin,” were in contradiction.

Sources: Lord El-Melloi Case Files (TL by TwilightsCall), Kara no Kyoukai (TL on baka-tsuki), Fate/Stay Night (TL Mirror Moon), Clock Tower 2015 (TL by food), Fate/Strange Fake (TL by OtherSideOfSky)

[saintandsinnerwrites]

Could I ask for 14 + X for rosenali with demon/devil rosé? I feel like that would be super fun

14. You’re the devil. You are the actual devil. X. Supernatural creatures + Rosénali

-

Okay y’all, here’s some monsterfucking for ya nerves~ It got long, so I’m putting it under a read more lmao.

Kinks include: 

Monsterfucking (obviously)

Inhuman anatomy (a tentacle dick, or as Sinner and I call it, a tentadick)

Rough Sex

Creampie

Light Erotic Asphyxia 

If you’re not into those things, this is your time to scroll on by. If you are into those things then I do hope you enjoy it!  -Saint

--

Denali had never been particularly religious, only really exposed to it through her overly-religious friends back in grade school who believed whole-heartedly that God had a plan for them and all that happy bullshit. Denali never bought into that, but just let them believe what they wanted as long as they weren’t hurting anybody. She sometimes questioned whether or not God was real, and if he (she? they?) were real, then was the Devil real? What were they like? That intrigued Denali more than anything about God or angels. 

She arrived home after her evening skate practice, took a warm shower, brushed her teeth, and dressed into her pajamas, nice and cozy. Maybe she should’ve eaten dinner, but she wasn’t really hungry, just ready to take a load off. She was going to hunker down in bed, watch some TV and just relax for a little bit before sleeping. Little did she know that her body was going to give out on her, and she drifted off into slumber shortly after getting into bed. Her dreams were strange and rather vivid, she kept seeing this vision of a bestial humanoid. She never got a good look at her face, but it felt so goddamn real. In her dream, when Denali went looking for the creature, she always got pulled back to her bed by some unseen force. Strange, but not overall concerning, not yet at least.

Denali was so curious though, she wanted to see the being that crept about in the darkness. This wasn’t the first time she dreamt of them, but this was by far the most memorable. It was difficult to discern the dream from reality, perhaps the two worlds were clashing somewhat this time. As if sensing Denali’s intense curiosity, the creature decided to come out of the shadows, their face mere inches from Denali’s immediately. Not much would scare her, but that gave her a little fright, but that fright morphed into something else too. Why was she feeling this way when some devilish creature had her in her clutches? 

Perhaps she was feeling that way because the creature had large breasts and curvy hips visible through her skintight attire. As if Denali could resist that. When she smiled all that could be seen were rows of sharp, dangerous teeth, and that danger just excited Denali more. Denali never cared for the more vanilla, mundane things in life, and this encounter was certainly anything but ordinary. 

“Who are you?” Denali finally found her voice.

“The devil,” came the reply that sounded like an amalgamation of various voices.

“You’re the devil? You are the actual devil?” 

“The one and only, lovely.”

Shit… “And, uh, what are you going to do to me?”

“Wake you up.”

“Huh?”

She didn’t reply, she just snapped her fingers and Denali was awake and looking about her bedroom. What the fuck, what the actual fuck??? It was all a dream? She rubbed at her eyes and looked around in the darkness of her room. Silence. Nothing. Damn, that was a disappointment.

“I didn’t go anywhere, baby,” came the voice made of a thousand voices.

Denali kept looking through the darkness, her eyes getting used to it, more shapes becoming visible. “Where are you?”

“Above you.”

Denali looked up to see her, the devil, hovering above her in the corner. “You’re cuter when you’re awake.”

“Why are you even here? What are you going to do to me now that I’m awake?”

“I think you’re quite aware why I’m here. Because your mind can’t stop thinking about me, and it has quite a few lecherous thoughts,” she said with a sinister chuckle.

Denali was normally feisty and full of attitude, but when face to face with the devil who was already aware of her wet dreams it made even the likes of her falter a little bit. “Are you going to act upon my thoughts?” She fucking hoped so, she could already feel herself growing wet in her panties thinking about just what an inhuman being like her could do to her. The wind was blowing outside, moving the tree branches about, and allowing more of the moonlight to shine through into the room. She got a better look at the devil above her, and saw as she crawled atop her. A clawed hand came to rest upon Denali’s cheek, a thumb brushing over her plush lips.

“You truly are gorgeous, Denali.”

“You know my name?”

“Of course I do.”

Of course she did. “Do you have a name? I mean do you go by Lucifer or something? You’re not exactly the devil most people describe.”

That got her to laugh, “I suppose not. But I’ve had people call me Lucifer, though I normally go by Rosé with those who know me best.”

“Like the wine?”

“Yes, it’s my favorite, and as a hedonist, I don’t hold back on it. The Queen Demon of Gluttony never leaves me without a good bottle or two at my disposal. I can handle my alcohol a lot better than humans, I don’t get sloppy drunk like you all. It just fuels me, especially my lusts.”

Denali bit at her bottom lip for a moment. Fuck, this really was happening.

“Show me.”

Rosé used her claws to tear her out of her shirt, grabbing her breasts and giving them a squeeze. Thank god Denali didn’t care about that shirt, but even if she did, she doesn’t think she’d care enough to protest. She was so sensitive already, that even that little bit of contact was driving her insane. Rosé’s hands slid to Denali’s hips and she pulled her panties off and tossed them to the floor. She spread her legs, nestling between them before leaning down to kiss the cute Latina beneath her.

Denali was trying to keep herself under control, but she was so hot, so fucking horny that it was becoming increasingly difficult. Without even realizing it she bucked her hips upwards wanting friction, any sort of friction, something to help relieve this ache. Rosé grabbed her hips in a hard grasp, stilling her. That got a little whine out of Denali, her arousal increasing tenfold.

“No foreplay then I take it?” she smirked.

“No, please, I just want you to fuck me. I know I’m sounding like a little slut, but I don’t even caaaare!” 

Rosé, that devilish creature, kissed up Denali’s neck and jaw before murmuring in her ear, “Just to let you know, I am not bound by human limitations of anatomy.”

Before Denali even had time to question that statement, Rosé had already unzipped her garment and let a tentacle-like appendage slither forth and press against Denali’s pussy. She gasped, not expecting that at all, but she was intrigued and excited. She knew damn well that it was going to feel amazing inside her, it could go as deep as she wanted.

“You like it, huh?”

“Yes… I can’t fucking wait for it to be inside me.”

Rosé chuckled under her breath, “Obviously. And I’m already slick so all I have to do is…” Her sentence trailed off as she started to push inside, slowly at first, working her open. Denali’s fingers slid into the sheets, grabbing them as the devil above her went even deeper. 

“Oh my god…” Denali sighed, her head lolling to one side. Her dark hair blossomed out beneath her head, her perfect pink lips parted as she continued to mewl softly. Rosé didn’t let go of Denali’s hips as she started to thrust inside her, still going slow despite the fact that she knew Denali wanted it hard and rough. She’d get to that. 

“You’re already so far gone, huh?”

“Please --please I want it, want you. I can take it, I need it.”

Well, Denali knew her body best and if she said she could take it, the devil would give it. After all, the devil isn’t about evil, the devil is all about giving in to all those earthly pleasures and delights that God deems sinful. Fuck that. What kind of life is it to go through it with no pleasure at all? Rosé moved her hips faster, finding that perfect pace that made Denali moan with her full voice. She fucked her hard, the grip on her hips not once lessening and Denali knew there would be some bruises tomorrow. Perfect.

“You like that, baby?” Rosé purred.

“Y-yes, it’s everything I’ve ever dreamt about~”

“You want it harder?”

“Fuck, you know I do.”

Rosé pulled out, flipped her over and slammed back inside, grabbing a fistful of her hair and yanking roughly. Denali’s upper body arched when Rosé pulled her hair, and she was in utter ecstasy. Her free hand let go of her hip for a moment to grab her breasts, teasing her nipples and tugging at them. Denali was losing her mind at this point, all that could be heard was the wet, obscene noises from their fucking, and her loud moans reverberating throughout the room. Rosé chuckled, her hand moving to the woman’s throat, squeezing just enough to make Denali’s eyelids flutter. She kept her grip on her throat and in her hair, using that to keep her in place as she destroyed that sweet pussy of hers.

“Can’t wait to fill you up to the fucking brim,” Rosé groaned. 

That made Denali shiver, she wanted it, she wanted everything the devil would give, including taking her demon seed. Her bestie Mik would often tease her about how much she loved a good creampie, calling her cum slut and the like. She couldn’t exactly protest though, because it was true. So much so that the thought of having the devil herself cum inside her made her incredibly excited. 

Rosé saw that Denali had propped herself up on her elbows, so she took her hand out of her hair and grabbed her hip again. She nuzzled into her thick hair, taking in its sweet scent. “God, you’re so gorgeous, I love how you moan for me, but I will make you fucking scream.”

She went harder, faster, her pace now brutal, which to Denali was everything, and it only brought her closer to her orgasm. It was going to be the best one she’s ever had, she could tell. Rosé was right, she did make her scream, made her scream her name, claw at the sheets, push back against her to get every single inch of that tentadick inside her. Close, so fucking close, it wasn’t going to be much longer. She was damn near desperate for that release and Rosé was right there with her. That sinister smirk disappearing off her face as she focused on bringing them both to their zenith.

“Touch yourself,” she demanded. 

Denali did as she was told, rubbing at her ultra sensitive clit in quick circles. Just a little more. So close. Just a little-- and that was it. She came hard, her eyes rolling back into her head, a loud scream ripping from her throat. Her hips twitched, her legs shook as her climax took hold of her completely. Rosé didn’t stop, she just kept fucking her roughly, but she knew that she wasn’t too far behind her. Denali’s noises were music to her ears, and her clenching around her made her cum just as hard, filling her up just as she promised. Denali whimpered feeling the devil’s seed inside her, it was everything she ever wanted and more. Rosé rode out her orgasm, slowing her thrusts as she started to come down from the intense moment. She didn’t pull out immediately though, taking the time to kiss down Denali’s neck and shoulder blades. 

“Did you like that?”

“Mhm~” Denali nodded, nuzzling against her pillows.

“Oh also, don’t worry, you’re not going to get pregnant, I made sure of that. Magick, and the like.”

“Honestly, I didn’t even think about that, I just wanted you to pump me full of demon cum.”

“So vulgar~ But I like that.” Rosé chuckled, pressing more kisses to her hot skin. Eventually she did pull out, watching as her cum leaked out of her, and she had a wonderfully devilish idea. She kept kissing her, kissing down her back, all the way down to kissing her beautifully ruined pussy. Denali gasped, her head popping off the pillow, looking over her shoulder at Rosé. 

“A-are you gonna--?”

She didn’t answer, she just gave her cunt a few sloppy kisses and slipped her tongue inside. Denali twisted the sheets in her fists, holy hell it was so goddamn good. Rosé grabbed her ass and went in, eating out that sweet pussy like it was the last thing she’d ever do. Denali knew she was ruined, no normal sex would ever top this. She would crave all of this over and over and over again. Rosé loved that she was driving her crazy, loved that she didn’t have to hold back with this fiery young woman. This would not be the last time she came to visit her, and that was a promise.

“Rosé! I-I’m going to fucking cum!”

Good. She kept at it, using her tongue to pleasure her for the second time of the night. Denali came again just moments later and Rosé continued until Denali was completely spent, panting heavily with lust-fogged eyes and a static-filled brain. Once they were completely done, Rosé moved to lay beside her, pulling her close, and pressing a kiss to her forehead. A little smile tugged at Denali’s lips, happy that the devil didn’t just leave her after all that. Rosé would never, she would kiss her and run her fingers through her hair and lull her back to sleep so that she could dream about this yet again.

[burnttongueontea]

If there was ever a good place to pick up bad habits – it was Ancient Rome.

When Aziraphale arrived in Rome, he hadn’t actually eaten anything in about a century. No, that’s a fib; he’d eaten a bowl of goat curry on a high-altitude outpost in the Himalayas, and a side of boar bought somewhere in Gaul after narrowly avoiding a discorporation, and he could remember both of those meals with a depth of detail that was truly remarkable. So, not nothing, but not very much, not since he sent in his report about the Caledonian assignment.

The painstaking project of establishing a chosen family as a prosperous local influence was one that had gone rather well, actually, and he’d submitted his lengthy report with the hopeful expectation that Head Office would be pleased with him for once. He couldn’t have been more wrong. Michael was in his room not three hours after the report got sent up.

‘Three meals a day?’ she’d demanded icily, without preamble, holding the document aloft between a rather disdainful forefinger and thumb.

‘Er,’ Aziraphale had answered, recovering the unlit tallow candle he’d dropped on the ground in surprise when she manifested. ‘Yes. The humans really rather – ’

‘And you didn’t think that was disgusting?’ continued Michael, with dangerous calm.

‘Well… no,’ said Aziraphale, painfully aware that this was the wrong answer. Not that he’d known about it before now. He’d fallen into the pattern by accident, mostly, trying not to be too conspicuously inhuman while settling in to spend a decade with a close-knit tribe. Then it had become apparent just how much the pattern humanised him to his marks. So he’d embraced it. ‘Actually, it helped a great deal with the assignment, so I thought I’d include it in the report as a sort of – as a tip. They really listen to you, when you eat with them. The same way they listen to each other.’

Michael still looked calm. It still felt dangerous. She lifted an eyebrow.

‘You’re saying you want us to recommend that other angels do this kind of thing?’

‘Oh. Recommend is rather strong. I only meant it as a, as a, as an observation. In case anyone else might find it helpful. I just thought… well, as the only angel permanently stationed on Earth, I thought – ’

‘You’re the only angel permanently stationed on Earth,’ Michael took over, ‘so it’s inevitable you’ll be forced to do unpleasant things from time to time. For appearances’ sake. But it’s disturbing that you no longer keep degrading behaviour like this to a minimum, Aziraphale.’

‘Oh,’ he said again, nonplussed. ‘I see.’

To tell the truth, he was rather embarrassed at the discovery that he might have been blithely committing misconduct all this time. He wasn’t quite sure whether this policy against eating was new, or if he just hadn’t known about it before now, but it didn’t seem wise to ask Michael, in case it turned out to be the latter. (Come to think of it, there had been quite a number of times recently when his superiors had dropped in on him while he was eating. He’d found this disconcerting, but hadn’t thought the pattern was intentional. Now he wondered if it was a hint, and he missed it. Oh dear.)  

Nor did it seem wise to ask whether the policy had really come from the Very Top. That might seem impertinent.

So he asked no questions.

Michael went on:

‘Luckily for you, I’d rather turn a blind eye than write out a reprimand for something so vulgar, but I must remind you informally: the more you stain yourself down here, the harder it will be to clean off.’ For a moment it seemed like this was all she had to say, but then she closed her eyes and adopted a perfectly revolted expression. ‘And, Aziraphale. Whatever you have to do to get by on this job… for the love of God, don’t make me read about it.’

Then she disappeared from his room without a farewell, as if unable to stand the sight of him for another second.

So, Aziraphale stopped eating.

This decision turned out to be less straightforward than he expected. Later on, he would struggle to remember when, exactly, the attempt to eat less had evolved into an outright ban. He just knew that it had proved worryingly difficult.

He’d simply never had to think so much about food before. It had always been a part of the job, of course. Not the most disagreeable part, either. He worked with humans, and their social practices made it inevitable that an affable, human-looking sort would get offered food fairly often, if he was hanging around them enough. If it was expedient, or pleasurable, to say yes – Aziraphale would say yes.

It was after Michael’s visit that he first encountered hunger, a feeling angels are not supposed to know. He’d always been able to go months without eating, during long journeys and famines and floods, and never experienced any discomfort. Now, for the first time, when someone offered him food, he had to remind himself to say no, even when it would have been expedient or pleasurable to accept it. And this made him notice something altogether new. Every time he said it, an unfamiliar something tugged at a spot in the middle of his chest. Not a painful tug, exactly, but there. Sometimes, difficult to ignore.

He observed this change in himself with concern. The more you stain yourself down here, the harder it will be to clean off. He’d never accepted so much food as he did in that little Caledonian village, never allowed his corporation to settle into a rhythm of predictable eating before. Clearly, doing so had left a lasting impression.

And why hadn’t he given it any thought? How had he not realised the other angels would be disgusted by it? He’d eaten so much he’d had to go to the midden every day, like a human, not just to pass water but the other thing – oh, goodness. And he’d told Michael about it. No wonder she had been upset. Aziraphale might as well have sent her a long description of his defecation habits.

When this thought dawned on him he went cold all over, and then he couldn’t seem to get it out of his head. It would come back to distress him several times a day, always at very inconvenient moments, and so intensely that he would draw alarmed looks from nearby humans as he groaned aloud and banged his fists on his forehead.

Not to mention the torture he went through after dark. He’d wasted plenty of nights worrying about his professional missteps, of course, but for some reason this humiliation crawled right under his skin in a way his previous errors had not. Aziraphale would go over and over and over the whole incident in his mind: what Michael must have thought when she read the report, what she must have said to the other archangels, whether they had laughed about him, what they now knew. Worrying about it was futile and painful and childish, and soon he was doing it every night without fail, robbing himself of his usual hours of privacy and peace. Just one more lasting consequence to his thoughtlessness. Along with this new need, this hunger.

Still, lasting didn’t have to mean permanent. He had trained himself into it, so he must be able to train himself out of it again. It wasn’t that he planned to avoid food forever. Only until the problem was fixed. If he fought it for long enough, surely, the hunger would go away.

Aziraphale waited to find out how long this would take. The answer certainly wasn’t ‘a short time’. In fact, the more time went on, the harder that something seemed to tug. Soon it was happening not just when he had to say no, but also when he heard others saying yes, or when he passed a group of humans eating together, or when he thought for too long about food. After a decade or so, the tug had become so insistent that occasionally, when someone started enjoying a meal in his vicinity, he would have to simply walk away, because the sight of it was more than he could stand.

But he didn’t give up on the idea of re-training himself. If anything, he felt more committed. His increasing discomfort only underlined the importance of getting rid of the hunger, and resisting it was relatively easy, if not very enjoyable, during that first century. Aziraphale faced little in the way of temptation, in most of the places he passed through. Head Office kept sending him to dusty little villages and remote backwaters, where people had so little that they couldn’t afford to offer any part of it to guests, and that meant there was more than one good reason to turn it down if they did. He got thinner, and people started trying to give him food more often. He miracled himself to look fuller, so they wouldn’t.

He felt pleased with himself, really. He didn’t know when the tug would go away, if a hundred years wasn’t enough, but now he knew how to ignore it, and that meant he could wait as long as it took, until it did.

And then Aziraphale walked into Rome.

Rome where they had just discovered dining culture, and takeaways, and celebrity chefs. Rome where all his wealthy marks flaunted the fact that they had far more to eat than they needed, where guests were routinely greeted by slaves with platters, where restaurant doors were flung open and street vendors sizzled their wares on the street and the scent of it was everywhere you went, like Gomorrah all over again.

Heaven hated them, these big cities, where they drank and danced and touched and ate. Aziraphale tried not to go into them, because of how much he liked them and how much Heaven hated them, but in the end he got an assignment that meant there was absolutely no avoiding the place that was currently the epicentre of everything, so he walked into Rome.

Aziraphale went almost a clean century without eating anything, and then he walked into Rome, and he could not think about anything except food.

(To be continued...)

[eldritch-elrics]

this summer, me and my brother watched four whole shows. at long last, here is my comprehensive review of all of them!

in the order we watched them, these shows were:

avatar the last airbender (ATLA)

mob psycho 100 (MP100)

demon slayer / kimetsu no yaiba (KNY)

fullmetal alchemist: brotherhood (FMAB)

they were all very very good!

i’m not going to try to rank them, but, as is probably obvious by the state of my blog, my favorite was FMAB :) if i had to pick a least favorite, then, it would probably be KNY—not by any fault of its own, but just because it didn’t appeal to me quite as much as the others. still a very good show!

i will review each show by:

giving a quick plot-based pitch discussing the show’s hook or appeal

discussing one element that i believe it does better than any other show on this list—in other words, a quality that i think it stands out for

discussing one element that didn’t appeal to me or that i had issues with—a criticism

putting forth my favorite character and favorite episode or arc, just for funsies

including various other commentary. mostly positive, as, again, i did really like all of these!

(i’ve tried to make this whole thing free of specific spoilers, but if you’re planning on watching any of these shows and want to go in more-or-less blind, it might be best not to read this.)

first of all, i’d just like to discuss all four of these shows as a whole! it was definitely interesting watching one after another and noting similarities between them.

all of them have siblings in them! which is, perhaps, fitting, as i watched them with my brother

two include a pair of siblings in which one has powers and one doesn’t (at least at first), and part of the narrative involves getting better at using those powers (ATLA, MP100)

two include a narrative centered around a pair of siblings and something tragic that happens to them, resulting in the older one being traumatized and forced to train to become a soldier, and the younger one turning into something (arguably) inhuman. the protagonist’s major goal is to return his younger sibling to the way they were before (KNY, FMAB)

ATLA and FMAB are both fantasy political dramas, which is rapidly becoming a favorite genre of mine

most of these are historical, or historically inspired in some way, which is interesting!

all of these shows are really really good at character building. all the main characters are interesting and complex, and the relationships between those characters are similarly nuanced and very well written. they make you really care about both the protagonists and the side characters!

avatar: the last airbender

pitch: as the ever-growing imperial force of the fire nation threatens the earth and water nations, a kid from the long-lost air nation turns up and it turns out he can control all four elements and he has to save the world and all that. sorry i tried to write this pitch like five times and realized that well at this point i think everyone reading this will know the plot of avatar

stands out for: avatar has possibly the best worldbuilding i have ever seen in a show—it takes the time to introduce us to so many places and aspects of its world, both explicitly and subtly. the main highlight of this is the magic system. by creating a magic system based in body movement, the process of using magic and learning to use/control it better becomes immediately obvious to the viewer. combine that with the philosophy behind each type of bending and the way that characters take bending inspiration from types different than their own, and you’ve got a system that is complex, flexible, believable, internally consistent, and just plain fun! it makes action sequences a blast. i especially liked the moments when bending was stretched to its limits in totally logical ways (metalbending, bloodbending). not to mention the way that bending is seamlessly integrated into the world of avatar! the example that comes to mind is the earthbending-powered transport system of omashu. a whole essay could be written on that topic alone!

criticism: i know this is a sentiment shared by many people, but the first season was kind of boring to me. some of the humor and the plots felt hit-or-miss. of course, it needed to take that time to establish the world, and it does a great job of doing that. it just didn’t hook me until the second season.

favorite character: i love toph she’s so much fun :) iroh is a close second! and zuko is great, too, of course

favorite arc: i loved ba sing se a ton, especially the episode when they get there and everything feels off. it felt so resonant with real life, in a very fun way. there’s a reason “there is no war in ba sing se” is a meme…

other commentary: what can i say? it’s a classic for a damn good reason. the plot is tight, and it does a great job raising tension and introducing new elements and twists. i also love the care put into the antagonists, especially azula, who has a fascinating arc.

mob psycho 100

pitch: a middle schooler and a charismatic con artist team up to smite ghosts using extrasensory powers. thing is, only the middle schooler actually has ESP, and it happens to be really, really powerful. can he navigate the difficult world of middle school while also getting a better grip on his powers—and his bottled-up emotions?

stands out for: the way that MP100 uses animation is excellent. it takes a little getting used to but it’s just so fun, combining all sorts of different techniques to create an experience rich with drama and emotion. it’s playfully exaggerated and self-parodying, adding to the show’s fantastic sense of humor as well as its truly emotional moments.

criticism: the way that ESP works makes suspension of disbelief tricky. it’s a great feat to introduce a character who is essentially all-powerful and still make them interesting (even in fight scenes), but at times (especially the second season finale) it felt like a magic system with too much breadth and too few limitations. this might just be my bias for hard magic systems talking, though.

favorite character: other than mob and reigen? probably teru. he’s loads of fun AND all the season 1 episodes he’s in slap hard

favorite episode: the one where the girl asks mob out on a date as a dare.. it’s super cute

other commentary: thank you mp100 for being the leftist propaganda we all deserve <3

in all seriousness though, this show is a blast!! it does a great job switching between silly and serious in the blink of an eye. i also really appreciate the way that it balances comically huge stakes with much smaller, more personal stories. for example, the conflict between mob and reigen in season 2 is especially well-done. in general the emotions just feel so real? characters whose emotions tie into their powers are an excellent trope, and mob is a wonderful protagonist who exemplifies this really well.

finally, on a more critical note—there are so many characters in this show! and it feels like only a handful are fleshed out? however, this may be due to the fact that it’s not an adaptation of the entire manga (which i haven’t read). there’s a lot more to go! more characters to dive into! so i probably shouldn’t try to critique it in the same way as a finished work.

demon slayer / kimetsu no yaiba

pitch: demons kill a boy’s family and turn his sister into a demon, so he decides to try and figure out a way to turn his sister back into a human. what follows is a demon-killing adventure that’s in equal parts harrowing, poignant, and hilarious.

stands out for: there’s not much i can say about this other than “please just take a look” but the art and design is phenomenal. it does a much better job of integrating 2D and 3D than a lot of other animated series, and overall it is just so so pretty! all the character designs are complex, memorable, and fit the characters perfectly. the color choices are interesting and satisfying. i also really like the sound design? not often that i notice that in a show. i’ve watched so many KNY amvs by now lol it’s just amazing animation

criticism: the narration style leans too heavily towards tell instead of show. this is mostly an issue with the first few episodes, but i got super annoyed by how much the show would narrate every single one of tanjirou’s thoughts instead of letting us infer those thoughts through his actions and reactions—the latter, i think, would have been more emotionally impactful. sometimes silence speaks louder than words! tanjirou was also not the world’s most compelling protagonist in my opinion, though i think that mostly has to do with my own tastes.

favorite character: *holds up zenitsu* I Just Think He’s Neat. i actually kind of lost it when he first used his powers, like… damn i love characters with weird relationships with their magic like that. i also think the narrative about how having a solid foundation is sometimes more important than knowing a ton of different moves was really powerful. and he’s just funny! pathetic boy i love him

favorite arc: really just the whole spider arc. fucked up man… i love it. they pulled off that last twist so well, and all the family stuff was so weird and complex and emotional…

other commentary: it’s just a really solid and very well-written show! the team of tanjirou, zenitsu, and inosuke is so much fun… bro bonding :) i also quite like the horror elements; it’s fucked up but in a good way. finally, this is very specific, but the demon that can alter buildings/rooms through drumbeats? appealed to me very much. it’s a cool and unique power!

fullmetal alchemist: brotherhood

pitch: two kids do some fucked up alchemy and end up getting parts of their body stolen by god. now they’re on a quest to get their bodies back, but find themselves wrapped up in crazy government conspiracies and alchemy more powerful than they ever could’ve imagined…

stands out for: plot. by this i mean less overall concept (though the overall concept is pretty great too), and more that the pacing and progression of the story is extraordinarily tight. for the most part (the first few episodes are a little weak but i’ll let it slide), it does an excellent job establishing its premise and building on it logically, adding layers and layers that extend naturally from what we already know. everything has a reason for happening; everything is revealed in good time and all the twists are super satisfying. there’s great balance between exciting moments and quiet moments. it’s just very good at being a story!

(fun fact: i’m reading the manga right now and so far it’s even better paced than the show, which is super interesting! it’s especially good at how it lays out pieces of the backstory and then fills everything in later in a really satisfying way.)

criticism: this is incredibly specific but it’s what comes to mind as something that bothered me: winry’s character arc was really disappointing. for most of the series she’s a pretty strong character, but in the end it feels like she gets pushed aside, defined only by her relationship with ed. what happened to her wanting to take action more? that was a specific desire she expressed—wanting to be less passive! since she’s such an important character, i wish she could have had more presence in the last season other than as a sounding board for the elric bros’ emotions. (even though her one scene in the last episode was really good and emotional…)

favorite character: other than the elric bros, absolutely ling. he fits into multiple of my favorite character archetypes (fun, silly, bastard, gets possessed…) and he’s just overall a delight. plus his relationship with greed is really really good. bro bonding at its peak!! (my other favorite is pride. i will not say why because spoilers. but if you know me.. you know)

favorite episode: this is really really hard to choose but i’m gonna go with envy’s death because. holy shit.

other commentary: i’m a really big fan of the complex and nuanced way in which FMAB breaks down militaristic, imperial regimes from the inside. many of the characters have done awful things, and the story forces them to grapple with that and accept that all they can do now is be better in the future. the moral complexity is just really good! characters with flaws—we love to see it!

finally, parts of this story seem so so catered to Me Specifically that it’s no wonder i got so into it. like just the entire premise? the way that so much of the conflict is built out of identity crisis and exploring the nature of consciousness and human vs inhuman? beautiful. i love ed and al so much

*

if you made it all the way to the end, thank you so much for reading!! glad to have finally gotten this done (3 months late…) and put all my thoughts down. i hope this inspires someone to try watching one of the shows i discussed!

[youremymiracleelliot]

Castlevania S3 — some thoughts

I really liked the 3rd season a lot and think it was at least as good as season 2. I was hit right in the feels, the plot never bored me but I believe there was more potential to the Infinite Corridor story line. Let’s take a look at the three separate subjects.

1) I’ll start with Trevor and Sypha who, during their travels, arrived in a village called Lindenfeld. They soon are introduced to odd happenings surrounding the priory and so, they stay to resolve the matter.

Anyway, we learn they’ve become a couple and are obviously in love (in their unique ways). It hurt me to listen to one of their conversations:

I mean, I might be Alucard-centered here but I am still pretty salty that they left him behind, all on his own. At least they didn’t entirely forget him (yet) and I’m aware there was good and logical reason for him to stay behind. That doesn’t change, though, that it’s a very inhumane decision. Alucard’s story line in season 3 really hurt a lot and to be honest, we all know Trevor and Sypha are responsible for the happenings as well, at least in one or another way.

Back to the actual plot that happened in Lindenfeld, we witnessed what a powerful fighting couple Trevor and Sypha are. I was pretty surprised and impressed how easily they defeated those two angel-like creatures. The only real opponent was the night creature which was forged by Isaac

(I WAS SO SHOCKED ABOUT THIS! I had some hope left for him to reconsider his actions but I only saw his soul darken. I understand, he’s disappointed by the human race. Still, the captain on the ship was right too. It’s so difficult and complicated — one of the reasons why I enjoy this show so much.)

and which had fed on the souls of the villagers. Thanks to St. Germain they won and thanks to him, we got that plot about the Infinite Corridor. I’ll be honest here, I found this idea so rich and expected very much. Especially more than a few creatures leaking through. Okay, they didn’t already have to travel to different realms but when the door to hell was opened and we even saw Dracula and his wife, I expected things to happen. Them returning, or anything the like. To be blown away. But no, nothing. This disappointed me, though I had already started to hope for family reunion when they encounter their son. Sadly, I didn’t get that.

2) Now I’ll focus on Alucard’s story line (as I’m already writing about him). And as I’ve already written how wonderful a family reuinion would have been, I have to add, Alucard would have needed it. My heart was broken in episode 1, seeing him all alone and abandoned. I knew he’d be alone but still seeing this hurt a lot.

And it was highly unexpected. At least to me. Because of his unbearable loneliness I was so relieved when Sumi and Taka showed up. At first they seemed kind and good. But during episode 7, when Alucard showed them the Belmont archives, I started to realize something feels off. I couldn’t quite name it but I didn’t think the siblings trustworthy anymore. From that scene on, it become more and more obvious, something is the matter. I still would have never expected them to use such a method ...

They obviously exploited Alucard’s loneliness and vulnerability. The worst part about it, some part of me understands why they couldn’t trust him though he never lied to them. Sumi and Taka had been Cho’s captives for so many years, since they were children. So they never learnt to trust anyone but each other. Another part of me wonders from where they got those chain-bracelets they put on him to chain him up. For a moment I feared he’d have to be rescued by his dear parents (during that moment the door to hell was open, so the chance was given) but he could help himself which only serves to underline he’s used to looking after himself and being on his own. Seeing him all devastated and desperate hurt so much, I almost cried as well.

3) As we’re already crying, let’s look at the other character who made me hurt so much during season 3 and also at the queens who rocked this season. Firstly, I need to state I don’t side with the vampires or approve of their actions and how they treat humans. But woah, did you see those vampire queens? In season 2, I was very impressed by Carmilla’s (evil) performance but I’d never thought there are more of her kind!

Carmilla, Morana, Striga and Lenore! They’re gorgeous geniuses! It’s not the fact that they’re the bad women of this plot who turn against humankind but they also have such a strong bond and, it seems, centuries of shared past. It was so lovely to watch them and Striga and Morana being a couple in love is a nice bonus.

Now let’s focus on Lenore and Hector. I enjoyed their story line a lot. For a decent amount of time, I couldn’t tell for sure how loyal she is to her other “sisters”. Maybe she indeed is a kind of good girl, I thought.

I even began to ship them, though deep in my gut I felt this isn’t right. Maybe she is up to help him, in her way. I had hopes because during the first scenes I just felt hurt about the way Hector was treated and tortured. It really got to me. I already was hurt by his story line in season 2 and knew things surely won’t start better in this new season but I hoped, things for him would improve throughout the season. But no. Lenore’s scheme was unexpected and truly blew me away. This was so cruel and the similarity to how Sumi and Taka deceived Alucard was breath-taking. Using Hector’s loneliness and hopelessness was a masterplan and I can’t help but marvel at Lenore’s brilliance to magically bind him to her and also her vampire sisters (once more I’m amazed by the relation between those four), so they can exploit his skills as forgemaster. Plus, Lenore plans to use him for her own entertainment and that’s something that gave me even more goosebumps.

I’m still shocked how much more downhill things got for Hector and the only hope I currently have left for his rescue / freedom is Isaac and his night creatures attacking the castle but as we’ve learnt, he as well seeks revenge, so my hope is extremely fragile.

To end this, let’s take a look at the outcome of season 3. It felt as if everything is darkening. The situation itself with those four strong vampires but even more the mood of the protagonists. They seem to have lost hope. Alucard, all alone and abandoned, has given up on humankind and shut everything off. Hector is no longer a captive but now even a slave who has no way of freeing himself. Trevor and Sypha, though killing the night creatures in Lindenfeld, couldn’t save the villagers and even those persons whom they thought trustworthy and good turned out to be evil to the core. It’s like there’s no good in the world anymore. It’s clearly depicted in their expressions.

Considering this end of season 3, I’m curious to see how season 4 will continue the story. How will our three heroes be motivated to go and annihilate the four vampire queens? Which path will Isaac choose?

Sadly, I think we’ll have to wait another few years for the continuation...

[cutiebeams]

Hello TWEWY fandom, it's meta time.

TWEWY is filled to the brim with symbolism and hidden meanings, as we all know. Even the partners and their colors when they sync with Neku; I realized, have some depth, and I'm going to articulate my thoughts on it. This is going to be long, so get cozy. 

Shiki

Let's start with the first partner we get. Her theme's red, and Neku's is blue. Before we even delve into this analysis, let's unpack the general symbolism of the colors themselves, because that is important as well.

Red: passion, love, anger, energy, courage

Blue: trust, loyalty, wisdom, intelligence, stability

These two colors are essentially on the opposing sides of the color wheel as well; the only shade darker than blue is purple (which is Neku's theme of his attire but that's not important rn stay with me fellas)

Red & blue are portrayed as opposites in a plethora of media and this is no exception: Shiki is the extroversion to Neku's introversion, the pathos to his logos, bubbly and chipper vs his stoic and reserved demeanor. Neku is outwardly hateful (towards other people and his circumstances), and Shiki is inwardly hateful (she hates herself to the point she doesn't think there's anything special about her)

As expected, they clash vehemently at first. Neku is extremely irritated by Shiki's energy and she is frustrated with how aloof and mean he can be. But as they get to know each other, they become like yin and yang; and Shiki's kinder qualities begin to rub off on Neku which he exhibits in the following weeks. Red is often symbolic of love; and Shiki shows a lot of it: she's very friendly and amiable, sympathizing with total strangers and getting along with almost everyone; but she's pretty feisty too- she gets visibly upset when Neku ignores her and makes himself difficult and she's not afraid to call him out (and she DOES, quite a few times). However, she is still overall kind to him, even when he's prickly; trying her best to be patient with him and her gentleness eventually wins him over.. eventually. 

When confronted with an issue, Shiki seems to lean towards the emotional aspects of the matter, such as when Ai and Mina were at odds, she hesitated to bring the truth to light because she didn't want to jeopardize their friendship and emotional wellbeing; in contrast to Neku who wanted the truth to be brought to light as soon as possible because he felt that lying was wrong and it needed to be addressed sooner, rather than later, or things would just get worse. Or when 777 couldn't find his tech, Shiki listened to him vent out of sympathy while Neku agreed to help because of the logical results it'd bring- 

Shiki is also very outwardly emotional: she's very chirpy but she also isn't afraid to openly express her sorrow, anger, or fear, and sometimes she gets overcome by her emotions. But for the most part, she exhibits high emotional intelligence and understanding of other's feelings; and she's essentially the group's moral support: she's one of the most verbal about being sure that they'll make it back and that they all need to work together. Shiki is also extremely passionate; about other people, about the things she creates, it spills into virtually every aspect of her life.

The sad thing though, is that Shiki seems to love everybody but herself, and we see tiny glimpses of this in her small moments of passiveness (such as telling Neku he doesn't have to shout when he snaps at her) On the flip side, Neku's blunt honesty gives Shiki the inner strength to not only face her self-hatred; but overcome it. And that brings me to Shiki's other color: green. You can see it in her stickers + it's her nickname in Another Day. 

Green: nature, rebirth, growth, harmony, healing

I believe that this choice is two-fold: green also symbolizes envy and jealousy and this is something that Shiki's character battles with. She wants to be like Eri- beautiful, smart, charismatic; to the point she even tells Neku that she emulated Eri's personality at first because she was so excited to be in her body. But she then realized that she wasn't Eri, and would never be; nor did she ever want to be. What Shiki truly wanted was to love herself: and that's what her character arc encapsulates; a journey of self-acceptance and self-love. 

When we finally get to see real game Shiki, she's wearing green because she's a new person, hence the themes of rebirth and harmony: she's confident and happy in who she is; and so the green changes from the negative connotations of jealousy and envy to the positives of steadiness and self-harmony. There's also healing, for both her and Neku: she helped him to open up emotionally and become gentler, and he helped her accept herself. We don't get to see her face because it doesn't really matter: as Neku himself said, "You'll always be Shiki." It's her character that is important, not her appearance. Green is also red's complementary color, and we see that rather than doing a complete 180 in personality, Shiki just gets a little milder. She's not quite as bubbly, but a lot of her passion is still there, it's just gentler. 

In short, Shiki is Neku's opposite. They're like night and day: completely different, but inseparable. 

Let's talk about Neku a while now, shall we? His color choice seems contradictory given his personality when we meet him: he is extremely distrusting, volatile and aloof. The thing is though, Neku's arc is also about growth and while he does not exhibit any of the traits of his color scheme at first; during the entirety of the game, he regains himself. Neku's character is about relearning how to trust people and not being afraid to be open and accept different points of view and values- and that diversity is good and healthy! During his first week with Shiki, we get very small glimpses of how emotional Neku actually is, particularly through inner monologue. 

When Rhyme is erased, he's distraught (his thoughts tell us he feels awful) but he masks it with blunt logic ("Because we couldn't. That's how it was meant to be"), perhaps to avoid showing vulnerability, even declaring teaming up is a dumb idea- because people get hurt and there are situations where there's nothing you can do about it. Neku's rant when Shiki declares that Beat and Rhyme were their friends takes us right into his psyche:

"Who needs friends?! They just laugh and talk like idiots and pretend to agree with you- so you end up caring about them….exposing yourself...getting HURT..Screw it! We're better off without them! You want other people getting in your way? Dragging you down? I don't!"

And suddenly, Neku's prickliness makes sense- he views attachment as painful and vulnerability as a risk, and so he vehemently avoids them. He's mean because he's hurting and he's sad: and how fitting, as one of the negative connotations for blue is sorrow and grief. Remember how I said Neku didn't exhibit any traits of blue? Well, that was specifically for the positive ones. 

Negative symbolism of blue: coldness, aloofness, lack of emotion, unfriendliness, sorrow

And that's Neku to a tee: at first, anyway. While his behavior is not justifiable, it is understandable.

When Shiki snaps at him and tells him that he's inhuman Neku doesn't show any outward response during the actual conflict, but the next day when she apologizes his sprite changes to the "sad turtle" and we get to see his thoughts again:

That I was no better than a Reaper…

Rhyme…

……………

Well...right now…

Neku proceeds to tell Shiki that they need to focus on the mission, and she agrees. While he isn't being especially friendly with her, it's leaps and bounds from his initial open hostility: he's more willing to work with Shiki towards a common goal and one could argue this is when his paradigm shift begins- her comment rattled him a lot, and Neku makes baby steps to change. The daily mission (which involves helping two friends address a misunderstanding) gives us more development for him, too. At this point, he still doesn't think conflicting views and values are a good thing and that relationships only hold him back; and he voices to Shiki that he doesn't see the point of friendships built on falsehoods (which is an excellent point and one that she actually agrees with) and we get to see one of Neku's good qualities: he values truth and honesty a lot. 

She asks him if he truly thinks that people are better off without friends, and when he doesn't answer; Shiki talks about how meeting Eri made her want to be her best self (which is how ALL healthy relationships should be, whether platonic or romantic). She mourns Rhyme again, venting that it isn't fair she'll never know what dreams are like and this time, Neku doesn't deflect. He sympathizes, and for the first time since entering the game, allows himself to be emotionally vulnerable: 

"I know. I…. I'm sad too. We'll just have to live a little extra. For her sake."

From this point onward, Neku begins to grow positively, slowly but surely. He's not friends with Shiki yet, but he feels safe enough in her company to not only express sorrow but caring enough to encourage her to keep pressing forward; for Rhyme's sake. The next day Shiki is quiet and sad due to being confronted on her self-hatred, and Neku doesn't know how to deal with her lack of cheeriness. But instead of being annoyed with her like before, he's visibly concerned and wondering what's wrong; and he tries to engage with her as much as possible: asking for her viewpoint on the daily mission and what they should do, etc. When he learns the truth about Shiki's identity, Neku just listens patiently and afterwards, his monologue is much more positive and understanding:

All this time..she's been as confused as me.

He now realizes that she's just as scared and upset as he is and he empathizes with that, going even further to say that "I like you the way you are" when Shiki expresses fear in being brought back due to her underlying jealousy: he appreciates her, every aspect of her; not because she's perfect, but just for who she is. Later on when Shiki hesitates to scan Eri and runs away Neku gives her the push to do so: as said earlier, he values the truth, and he knows that Shiki needs to face it if she's going to improve as a person- and we see him beginning to exhibit his wisdom. He's not really gentle, but his honesty is needed. When Shiki begins comparing herself to Eri and self-deprecating, he intervenes, in his own way: 

"Oh, would you cut the crap? Who ARE you? You're you. You're not Eri. You'll never be Eri. You'll only ever be you."

Neku reiterates what Shiki told him earlier, about never wanting to be Eri, but he goes a step further. She only went as far as to say she wanted to love herself, but that she never could; while Neku asserts to her that being herself is absolute and unchangeable. Shiki mildly protests this though, saying that Eri is "so much better". To her, while she does value her identity the most, Eri's identity makes her feel inferior. She wants to be her own self, but Eri, in her eyes, is perfect, something that she cannot achieve. And that is why Neku's reply is so important.

"Forget her! You need to live your own life. If she can do it, so can you. All that matters is that you try. You're lucky you're jealous. It gives you something to shoot for. So..shoot."

Up to this point, Shiki has measured the worth of her identity based upon comparison to others, and Neku understands that and tells her upfront  that she needs to stop trying to be somebody that she isn't and be confident in her own self, and just do her best- and that'll be enough. He also encourages her to use her jealousy in a productive way, to find her niche; her drive. This gives Shiki the courage to go back and listen to what Eri has to say, and in doing this she hears her friend praise her positive traits, ones that Shiki herself most likely never even realized: her empathy and love for people, her eye for detail, her skill in creating things, her passion and motivation-

 ALL things, that according to Eri, "I don't have." And Shiki finally understands that Eri saw her as her equal and that who she is, is valued. Of course, a few positive reinforcements is not enough to do a 180 from most likely years of self-hatred, and so she asks Neku again if she's okay the way she is; and his reply shows yet more growth:

"Hey, Shibuya's got room for all types."

This is a STARK contrast to his dialogue when we first meet him- "All the world needs is me," "You have your values, and I have mine," etc. Neku valued his identity, but he took it to the extreme in that he ONLY valued his identity, values, and morals. After meeting Shiki though, his viewpoint changes a bit and at this point Neku now appreciates diversity- he's still not at the point that he feels he can understand other people, but he at least doesn't see conflict of morals as a bad thing anymore. And in turn, this gives Shiki the inner strength to want to go back to the RG and start afresh. He gives her one last push to go back when she hesitates since she was the only one granted a second chance, with the promise to see her again; and in just a week, Shiki goes from being the biggest pain in Neku's side to his biggest motivation for surviving the second game and one of his best friends.

Joshua

Another week, another partner.

What's interesting about Joshua is that he is also blue, just a lighter shade. While Shiki is Neku's opposite, Joshua is more akin to his shadow- a mirror, of sorts.

Light Blue: peace, serenity, ethereal, spiritual, infinity

Josh and Neku are extremely similar, but their personalities still converge at enough points that they're starkly different: their tempers especially are a separating point as Neku is much snappier than Joshua (especially if provoked), and despite Josh being represented by a lighter color, in a lot of ways, he symbolizes his partner's negative traits in even more extreme ways in a subversion to expectations; a "darker" version of him, in a sense. 

When they first meet, these two also clash, but for entirely different reasons. Joshua's attitude, as well as his dodginess, pisses Neku off immensely. While his first week with Shiki is about relearning how to build trust, his second week is a test of said trust by giving him a partner very similar to his former self: distant, aloof, uncaring. It gets especially tricky when Neku scans Joshua and sees himself dead, and he begins to distance himself again; deciding that there is no way that he can trust him- and not only that, but that it'd be ridiculous to do so. Neku senses something is off: he doesn't know what it is, but it unsettles him enough that he is steadfast in his decision to keep Josh at arm's length.

...Until he and Josh visit Mr. Hanekoma, and upon learning that his teammate and Mr. H are acquainted, Neku decides that perhaps Joshua isn't as bad as he initially thought: but he's still pretty hesitant; and understandably so. Mr. H gives him some backstory of his partner, and his motives start to come to light - turns out, Joshua has been able to see the game while living, and that alienated him from other people since Hanekoma was the only one he could confide in. Just like with Neku, this doesn't justify his behavior, but it does make it understandable: Josh pushes away people by playfully antagonizing them and making himself difficult, and Neku pushes them away through hostility. 

When he and Josh visit Udagawa, they connect on both not doing well in groups and Joshua comments that they're more alike than he thought, which leads into a conversation about people not being able to understand each other as long as they have their own worlds and Neku begins to backslide a little:

"Right? They're them, and I'm me. Talking to them gets me nothing."

He goes on to say he respects CAT and their philosophy about doing your own thing and how he needs to just enjoy his life and forget about others, and Josh agrees. While Shiki is Neku's friend, she is the exception, not the norm, and Neku still doesn't trust most people. However, when Josh expresses not needing other people's values, Neku's reply is interesting. He agrees outwardly, but it's hesitant, as if he's unsure of himself. 

"Yeah..."

His inner thoughts show us that once again, he is changing.

But...I don't feel that way anymore. Since coming to the UG, reading people's minds- Shibuya's full of people with just as many viewpoints. Mr. H said the world ends with me. To expand my world, I have to learn to look farther- not write off other people's values as inferior. 

….Maybe I had it backwards. Maybe I need to open up to really enjoy- 

Josh calls him and snaps him out of his thoughts so we don't know what he was going to think next, but Neku has definitely experienced a massive paradigm shift in his way of thinking: he's inwardly questioning himself and acknowledging his wrongs and showing willingness to trust again and is showing a lot more empathy to other people. However, this resolve begins to crack when more holes in his memory get filled. Neku is angry and confused, but most of all, he's hurt and we see it in his reaction when Josh asks if he's okay; because he distances himself again. This situation causes him grow distant once more and he also gets more openly prickly since his trust is shaky. Josh relating to him that he feels he belongs in the UG doesn't help matters, either.

However, a later conversation has him moving forwards again. While acknowledging that people are not meant to see eye to eye, he thinks to himself that perhaps it is better that way. People don't think alike, but they can at least try to understand each other; and he then gets the resolve to actually counter Joshua's argument of solely reading people's thoughts and not talking to them.

"But why? Where's the enjoyment in that? I'd rather broaden my world my own way."

And again, we get a small paradigm shift of Neku feeling comfortable enough to express the positive changes that he has slowly been experiencing: blue symbolizes stability, and by this point in the story he is obtaining more and more of it: in his values, in his emotional expression, in how he deals with people, etc. He gets thrown for an immense loop learning that Joshua is alive though, and Neku finally snaps when his teammate brushes it off claiming they're "just like any other pair"-

He's utterly disgusted by Joshua treating the Game as an adrenaline rush- even when Neku first got into the Reaper's Game, he never enjoyed it, even if he initially was only looking out for himself at first; and the idea of getting excitement from toying with death is foreign to him. It only gets worse when Neku accuses Josh that HE killed him, and simply is taunted in return. From that point onward, he becomes openly hostile and snappy again, throwing the idea of trusting his teammate to the wind and tells him upfront that he's only going to tolerate him to survive; leaning back on his negative qualities (because growth is a process and there will be moments of wavering and backwards steps, and that's normal!)

Later on he also shows open distress when a Reaper is attacked and they are unable to save him; declaring they "left him to die." Even though it wasn't any fault of their own, Neku self-blames just like Shiki did in the first week- thinking that he could've done something, maybe if he had gotten there sooner, or defeated the Noise faster. While not 100%, Neku is comfortable enough to openly express sorrow, and Joshua underhandedly sympathizes and takes the blame off him ("We did what we had to do Neku.") He also protects Sota from Noise later down the line even though his partner is already erased and he's going to die anyway and again expresses sadness ("If only we'd gotten here earlier") and even indignation after the older man dies, screaming in anger about all the people who have been erased ("These are people, not toys!!"). When Josh questions him about the interest in others, he then explains that he's gotten to know folks better and that "it's different now".

"They're not just strangers. I can't shut them out like that." 

This is really important because in this, Neku is essentially declaring he cannot go back to who he used to be; nor does he WANT to. He refuses to, and he is making a conscious effort to be open to other people even if he doesn't understand them. Neku goes on to assert that one needs to reach out to others as well in counter to Josh asserting that he won't ever be able to understand others and this time, Joshua responds positively. Through Neku's steadfastness and refusal to waver on his viewpoints once he truly feels solid in them, and his courage to express them and not back down; he influences Joshua into thinking that perhaps people truly do need each other and can understand each other, even if it isn't easy to do so. In showing sympathy towards his enemies, he also proves again and again that people can change too, for the better; and his wisdom begins to shine once more. (And it is this change that ultimately leads Joshua to decide to save Shibuya) Unfortunately, Neku is thrown for yet another loop upon getting more of his memory back and thinking that Sho killed him, and Josh sacrificing himself is absolutely world-rocking.

He blames himself again, angry at himself for not opening up; and it is with this mindset that he is thrown into the Reaper's Game for the final time. His trust is in shambles, and the third week is Neku's personal test to see if he is willing to reach out despite being recently wounded by his partner.

Speaking of, Joshua doesn't really have an arc compared to the rest of the cast: rather, he serves as the catalyst to their growth instead. His character is interesting because from beginning to end, he expresses essentially none of the positive attributes of the color he is represented by; he only appears to at first glance. While Josh does change his mind about destroying UG Shibuya and is convinced that people can change for the better, whether he himself changes for the better is up for debate. Orange is the second color associated with him (it's the shade of his cell phone and his stickers), but just like with light blue, he expresses none of its positive traits.

Orange: enthusiasm, happiness, creativity, determination, encouragement

Negative symbolism of orange includes insensitivity, pessimism, and being unsociable, all aspects of Joshua's character. He doesn't think that people can change; and that it is impossible to understand them (he even goes as far to express "I'd rather just get rid of them" in a dark contrast to Neku, who is content to merely ignore people). Josh doesn't like groups of people either, and he exhibits insensitivity many times throughout the second week, merely behaving charismatic in order to interact with others. He doesn't really grow outwardly, but that's not the point of his character; he's Neku's test to see if he's truly changed or not.

Joshua is Neku's shadow, he's in the same vein. Rather than night and day, they are as dusk and midnight.

Beat

Beat is interesting because his color was actually switched for Final Remix: in the original DS version Beat is green, and in the Switch version he is yellow. I'm going to dive into both because I feel they're equally important. I already covered green for Shiki, but green has yet another meaning which describes Beat to a tee- safety. While Shiki is the moral support and mediator, he is the protector: he's extremely sacrificing for his sister and the people he cares about to the point of putting himself in physical danger to keep them safe (such as jumping in front of a car to save Rhyme, or jumping in front of Neku to protect him from a brainwashed Shiki). That much stays constant throughout the game. Healing also applies to him, as he helps Neku to open up and feel safe being emotional again by not being ashamed of being emotional himself: Beat openly cries over Rhyme and Neku mourns with him, and they help each other heal by learning to rely on one another. Not just as partners, but as friends.

Yellow: joy, warmth, positivity, friendship

From the get go, Beat is a huge bundle of energy and he's extremely kind; although he gets rather volatile if he feels slighted. But like with Shiki, he's overall a very sweet person and openly emotional: he gets angry in a heartbeat, laughs heartily when he's happy, and cries freely when he's sad- and his tears are never portrayed in a negative manner either; they're just a normal reaction to a sad situation and this normalization of sorrow leads to Neku getting comfortable again in being vulnerable- one could argue he's the most emotional in Week 3. Yellow is the complementary color to purple, which is also the main shade of Neku's design. Rather than an opposite like Shiki, or a shadow like Joshua, Beat is Neku's foil. He's a lot kinder and he's got a big heart but he is also extremely impulsive and acts w/o thinking. In contrast, Neku thinks things through logically, but he's a little lacking emotionally; and so they balance each other out. He's also highly attune to when Neku starts withdrawing into himself and gently snaps him out of it constantly; showing once again his sensitivity to emotion. (He consistently asks Neku if he's okay when he gets lost in thought; which Neku does a lot, especially if he's upset. Beat keeps him grounded.)

Beat's arc is finding value in himself again + doing his best; not for other people, but for himself and finding his drive. When mourning Rhyme, he vents that "she thought I was worth dying for" and that she had much more to live for, and he doesn't understand why she'd sacrifice for him. (And he blames himself for her death, as well) While Beat is protective out of the kindness of his heart, it also comes from a lack of self-worth: he places other people above himself, to a fault. Neku sympathizes with his grief but then goes a step farther to encourage him to not be regretful. In another contrast to Shiki, rather than another's identity making him feel inferior to the point of emulating them and overshooting, Beat jumps to the other side of the ditch and loses his passion altogether. 

Rhyme refused to give up on him, but eventually Beat began to resent her pity and he began to push her away as well. After they both died and came to the Game though, Rhyme's declaration that she had nothing to live for startled him into realizing that she meant a lot more to him than he thought and more than anything else; he wanted to be there for her as she was for him. After beating himself up, Neku comforts Beat in his own way, telling him that he needs to focus on the now and not let his sorrow overcome him, in essence; but also to go the distance just for himself, not for anyone else.

And Beat gets his fire all over again, eventually declaring that Neku isn't his partner anymore- he's a friend, and one that he cares about a lot.

Through his partners, Neku finds himself, they all strengthen different aspects of him. He learns to trust, to be open, to find value in friendship again and him taking off his headphones is the ultimate metaphor of him letting the world back in.

Shiki, his opposite.

Joshua, his shadow.

Beat, his foil. 

They all shaped his world, and showed Neku just how wonderful it really is.

And that is beautiful.

[leviskokoro]

prologue.

summary｜Mari had finished her night stroll with "Tsunotarou" but decided to venture deeper into the woods. Unfortunately, she never came back. Now her friends need to find a way to save her before it's too late.

word count｜2710

fandom｜twisted wonderland

notes｜so I decided to make a multi-part fic with my obey me/twisted wonderland oc. I also posted this to my quotev acc (link if you’re interested).

“Well, I’ll be going back to my dorm. It was a pleasure speaking with you, child of man. Good evening.”

And with that, Tsunotarou disappeared in a burst of fireflies. A few lingered, danced around her form. She chuckled lightly, crossing her arms. The feelings were mutual. The horned Diasomnia student was always lovely to talk to. He was quite an interesting man with how he spoke to her. She didn’t even know his real name. Leaves crunched under her feet as Mari continued to walk in the forest close to the Ramshackle Dorm. Most of the fireflies had dissipated into dust, save for one that decided to stay. It was cuddled up on her shoulder. How cute. The wind kissed her cheeks, blowing past her chocolate locks.

But in her path, a freakishly tall man came into view. His skin was sickly pale. Long raven hair swayed in the wind, hiding his face. His aura felt intimidating, somewhat like Lucifer’s except less on the scary side but more on the creepy side. Anxiety started spiking in her senses. She bit her lip and took her phone from her back pocket and hastily typed a message in her group chat with the other first years she was friends with, keeping her eyes on the man before her. After seeing that the message was sent successfully, she tried to walk away.

Only for him to turn around. Eyes that were red like you’ve never seen red before pierced through her soul, sadistic glee glinted in them. A grin creeped up on his lips, pearly white fangs shone in the light. “Hm? You’re the one I’ve been looking for.” His voice was deep and hoarse. It was as if pure evil spoke to her. “Yes… You’ll be my blood bride.”

Before Mari could blink, he had taken hold of her arm, grip tight as iron. Sharp nails dug into her skin, almost drawing blood. She couldn’t even struggle, knowing full well that her efforts would’ve been fruitless. His free hand took the smartphone from her hands. Her eyes widened in fear, looking up at him.

CRACK! SHATTER!

The pieces of the now broken phone fell uselessly to the ground. He shattered it as if it was a toothpick. Screeching noises could be heard as a cauldron of bats surrounded their forms and covered them completely.

When the bats disappeared, they were nowhere to be found.

Grimm woke up to see that it was morning. Sunshine peeked through the curtains. His confusion was immediate. Usually, he would be woken by the prefect. And yet, he couldn’t even find her in bed. That’s strange. He got up and checked the clock, only for his eyes to widen in realisation that he was extremely late to class. With a loud yell, he grabbed his books and rushed out the dorm, headed for his classroom.

As the day went on, the cat monster hadn’t seen a single sign of his “servant”. Not in the Ramshackle Dorm, not in class. Even while he was having lunch, she didn’t turn up. His facial expression was one of worry and irritation.

“Oi, Grimm.”

Said monster looked up to see Ace and Deuce. Behind them were Jack, Epel, and Sebek. They seemed to be wearing concerned looks as well.

Ace held up his phone to him, displaying her last message to the group chat.

Mari, 9pm: Danger! Please help! Strange man in the woods near Ramshackle Dorm!

“Do you know what this is about?” Deuce asked.

Grimm shook his head. “I’ve been looking all over for her. She didn’t even wake me up this morning and I was late!”

“Eh? So she’s not just pranking us?” Ace tilted his head, placing a hand to his hip.

“Mari doesn’t seem like the type to pull pranks like these…” Epel spoke up.

“She didn’t say anything besides that so we have no idea what happened to her,” Jack said, crossing his arms. His body was tense, ears pointed forward.

“If nobody knows where she is, then we must contact the Headmaster immediately!” Sebek was yelling, but that was nothing new. “I will do a thorough search of the Night Raven College for her while you report it to him.”

Before they could reply, he was already brisk-walking out of the cafeteria.

The remaining five glanced at each other and nodded in agreement. They made their way to their masked Headmaster’s office. Their pace was so quick that they almost bumped into several students, as well as each other, along the way. But once they got to the office, they knocked.

“Come in!” They heard his voice and Ace gripped the doorknob and turned it, entering the room with his friends. They explained the situation to him and showed him the text. His lips pulled into a deep frown.

“Oh no… We should check the security cameras,” he said and checked it on his monitors, pulling up the footage of the night before on the exact time the text was sent. It was fortunate that he had also thought of adding cameras in the forests around campus.

Ace’s eyes widened as they watched her encounter with the man. They could tell even through the screen that he must’ve been extremely powerful and certainly inhuman.

Then, she was taken, leaving only the broken pieces of her phone behind.

They were shocked by what they’d seen, dozens of questions floating around in their head. Who was this strange man? What did he want with the prefect? What was he? Where did he come from? Where did they go?

“All of you, call for all the dorm leaders to meet here and return.”

The first year group had followed his instructions. In the room stood all the dorm leaders, the first year friend group, and the Headmaster who showed them the footage to fill them in on the situation. The dorm leaders all had different reactions to it.

“Who the hell is this creep?” Leona asked, eyebrows furrowed and his ears erect.

“That is Vladimir, King of the Fallen Kingdom of Sânge,” Malleus spoke up, his expression unreadable. He crossed his arms. “I see he wants a blood bride, but why her? From what I’ve heard from Lilia, he’s very picky when it comes to choosing a bride.”

Ace groaned. “Ugh, this is like when Idia got kidnapped by that ghost princess.”

At the mere mention of the ghost, Idia shuddered, not wanting to recall his traumatic experience of being forced to marry.

“Poor Mari! She must be terrified!” Kalim cried out. He’s been kidnapped more times than he can count to the point where it doesn’t faze him anymore, but seeing his close friend be taken like that made his stomach churn.

Vil sighed, an exasperated expression on his handsome features. “This is the second time a student has been kidnapped. Shouldn’t you have tightened security by now?”

“Where is… the Fallen Kingdom of Sânge?” Epel asked, trying to remember if he’s seen it on any map.

“It’s an incredibly distant country to the west. They were known for having an unmatched military. But then a plague struck the kingdom and wiped out most of its citizens 350 years ago. From the ruins rose the vampires. The king of the nation was one of the vampires that came back as one,” Malleus explained, rubbing his chin in thought. “Among them, he’s the most powerful.”

“Great, we went from ghosts to vampires,” Grimm groaned.

“We have no time to complain! This is urgent!” Crowley exclaimed, “Being a blood bride means she’ll become enslaved for eternity, being nothing more than a blood bag. We need to get her before that happens!”

The room went quiet. The tension was so thick, you could slice it with a knife. They all stared at their Headmaster.

“Alright. What’s the plan?” Riddle asked. It was as if there was a lump in his throat, but he hid it under a guise of being calm.

Crowley looked shocked. He turned to the side and muttered something under his breath. “I didn’t think you’d all be so willing to help…” And he was so prepared to blackmail them like he did when Idia was kidnapped too. It’s truly fortunate that Mari has a lot of talent for beast taming.

He cleared his throat and looked back to them. “As Mr. Draconia said, Sânge is a very distant country. So much so that we can’t even use the Mirror Chamber to travel there. We’re going to need to find a way to get to her first.”

“Hm, I believe Lilia actually has a friend there that he visits from time to time. Perhaps he has a way to get there quickly,” Malleus spoke up.

“Then someone please call for Mr. Vanrouge.”

“You called?”

“GAH!” Everyone, except for the horned Diasomnia dorm leader, cried out in surprise to see said boy standing on the ceiling like a bat. It was difficult to get used to his entrances.

“Geez, stop scaring people like that!” Grimm exclaimed.

He chuckled. “My apologies.”

“HOW DARE YOU SPEAK TO MASTER LILIA THAT WAY, CUR?!”

“Sebek, it’s fine. No need to shout,” Lilia told him. The said boy shut his mouth and nodded.

“Mr. Vanrouge, do you have any idea how to get to the Fallen Kingdom of Sânge as quickly as possible?” Crowley asked him, turning to look up at him as he jumped down from the ceiling to stand on the ground properly like the rest of them. The rest of the students gazed at him as well.

A smile pulled at his lips, nostalgia sparking in his crimson eyes. “Why yes! There’s actually an ancient spell to get there in the blink of an eye. It takes a lot of practice to do it successfully. However, I should be able to do it for everyone.”

“As expected of Master Lilia, he’s truly a talented mage!” Sebek commented.

“Well, now we have a means of transportation. Now we need an actual plan to save her,” Azul spoke up, pushing his glasses back. Among them, he seemed the calmest. Emphasis on the word “seemed”. He’s always been good at hiding his emotions.

“There are two ways we could go about this. According to Sângian marriage traditions, if someone challenges the groom for the bride’s hand in marriage, they’ll be given three tasks. If they succeed, the wedding is cancelled and the challenger gets the bride instead,” Lilia spoke, “These tasks can be incredibly difficult, especially since the groom is the King of Sânge himself.”

He placed a hand to his chin, a thoughtful expression on his pale face. “We could destroy the rings but we might have to save it as a last resort since vampires always keep their valuables well hidden.”

“Do you know what these tasks are?” Azul inquired.

He shook his head. “They’re decided by the groom and it’s usually different each time.”

“So we can’t rely on the idea that he’s going to make this fair and square.” Vil’s eyebrows furrowed in frustration. His lips pulling downwards into a frown.

“Then we should have two teams for this. One team will look for the ring and destroy it, the other will challenge the groom.” Riddle proposed a plan. “It will be easier for the stealth team to search for the ring if the challengers are distracting the groom.”

“I like that! It sounds like it’d work great,” Kalim commented, smiling.

“It has my approval.” Vil crossed his arms.

“Dorm leaders, choose which students will be on which team. We’ll need as much help as we can get,” their Headmaster ordered them.

“I can get a few scout drones to assist,” Idia spoke up from the floating tablet that he used to communicate during dorm leader meetings. A new voice came from it.

“I wanna help too, big brother!”

“Count Ortho in as well for the Stealth team. I’ll get to putting on his stealth suit.”

“Jade and I will be on the Stealth team, Floyd should do well on the Challenger team.” Azul adjusted his glasses, resting his elbow on his hand. There was an unreadable glint in his stormy blue eyes.

“Dorm Leader! Please let us challenge the King!” Ace and Deuce cried out in unison, pleading to him.

Riddle turned to them and he couldn’t help but grin. “It’s good to see you two so eager to save her, especially you, Ace. You were so against helping the last time,” he told them.

Said boy rubbed the back of his head. His eyes darted downwards to avoid meeting his gaze. “It’s just that I owe her for lending me her notes.”

“She’s my friend. I can’t let her be enslaved like that,” Deuce stated.

“You two really aren’t honest with yourselves,” Grim sighed.

Regardless, their redhead dorm leader glanced at Crowley. “Ace, Deuce, and I will be on the Challenger team.”

“Alright! I’ll challenge the king and Jamil can be on the Stealth team.” Kalim raised his fist in the air. Determination was evident on his face.

Vil sighed as he glanced at his freshman. “I suppose Epel and Rook would want to help. All three of us will be in the Stealth team.”

Said boy’s eyes widened in shock. “E-Eh? You’re actually letting me go?”

“Yes, but don’t think that this is an opportunity to slack off. I expect you to be on your best behaviour.” His lilac eyes were harsh as he glared at him.

“I understand…” Epel bowed his head.

“Heh, I would’ve expected you to join the challenger team just to show off,” Leona spoke up, causing Vil to redirect his glare to him. He turned to the Headmaster. “Jack and I will join the challenger team. Ruggie is an obvious choice for the Stealth team.”

Jack stood in attention. His eyes widened, a clear spark of gratitude in them. However, he tried to mask how much he wanted to help.

Everyone turned to the dorm leader of Diasomnia with looks of anticipation. He seemed to have been thinking for a while, his hand was placed to his chin. An expression of contemplation was on his features.

“I can’t challenge the king myself due to political reasons so I’ll have Lilia in the Stealth team and Sebek in the Challenger team,” he finally came to a decision.

Lilia tilted his head with a smile on his face. “I’ll do what I can to help.” He had noticed the strange behavior of his dorm leader, the restless glint in his eyes, how he fidgeted ever so slightly. Most people wouldn’t notice these things, but he wasn’t most people. He knows him better than anyone, being the very person that watched over him since he was but a child.

“I WON’T DISAPPOINT YOU, MASTER MALLEUS!” Sebek was so loud that he almost popped the eardrums of those closest to him. Unfortunately, that was Jack, who now had to cover his ears while wincing. Leona glared at him.

“Sebek, no need to shout,” the vice dorm leader lightly scolded him, making him immediately go quiet after apologising.

“Now that we have that in order. We should do some research on the Fallen Kingdom of Sânge,” Riddle spoke up, “However, I don’t believe there are any books on it in the Library.”

Lilia chuckled. “I have a few maps and books that I acquired from old friends. I’d be happy to lend it to you for the time being. Plus, I could even teach you all on the customs of Sânge.”

“You’re as excellent as ever, Vanrouge,” Azul complimented his upperclassman with a smirk. The vice dorm leader of Diasomnia was an enigma to most people. He always seemed to have information on subjects that many people would have no access to, especially when it came to History. It was as if he had experienced these events himself.

The octo-mer wished to unravel his secrets, find out how he knows these things. It would be extremely beneficial for him in the future.

He looked at him and nodded, smiling as well. “Why thank you, Ashengrotto.”

Crowley cleared his throat. “Alright. I’ll give you all an hour to research and prepare before going to Sânge.”

[monsterlovinghours]

Late Dinner

okay so @sapphic-florals absolutely wrecked me with vampire!dewey feels and i wanted to write a little sequel to their piece even tho they technically beat me to it

-it had been a few months since that first time, that unforgettable night when he revealed to you the truth of his nature, who and what he really was. The two of you had had a very serious discussion about it once you had finally wrapped your head around the whole “vampires are real” thing. He asked you (obviously) to not tell anyone, and you agreed. Then came your flood of questions.

-”How often do you need to drink? Can you fly? Can you turn into a bat? How old are you?”

-Dewey couldn’t help but laugh at your enthusiasm, holding up his hands to slow you. “Easy, one question at a time. Ideally, I should be drinking blood a couple times a week, but when you have to raid a blood bank, it becomes more like once every two weeks. When I...y’know…” He gestured to your neck, looking sheepish. “I hadn’t fed for almost a month.” He reclined back, smiling at you. “No, I can’t fly or turn into a bat, and let me tell you, I was fucking pissed when I found that out. Most of what people know about vampires from media is wrong. Y’know, aside from the whole blood thing.” Dewey had adopted a thoughtful look. “As for my age...I lost track a while ago, but I think I’m around eight hundred years old.”

-”Holy shit, really??”

-He grinned. “Nah, I’m just fucking with you. I was turned in 1979 when I was thirty-two.”

-”Huh. You look good for over seventy.”

-Oddly enough, your friendship went back to normal after that, though you never truly forgot that kiss. Every so often, you’d catch him staring at your neck, at the place where his teeth had sunk into you, the place you carefully concealed with makeup, scarves, and high collars. He seemed to have some kind of fascination with it, but whenever he’d realized that you caught him, he’d cough and look away. Sometimes, he’d open his mouth, as if he were about to say something, but he always closed it again. 

-Neither of you mentioned it again, except for once a week or so, you would ask if he’d eaten with a poignant lift to your brow. He would assure you that he had, and satisfied, you’d drop the subject.

-Then, things got crazy again. It was finals week at Horace Green, and with the holidays around the corner, Dewey was running himself ragged putting together the music for the annual holiday concert, not to mention the multiple rehearsals and extra credit hours with his students.

-You were busy as well, staying late to grade papers and make up work. That was where he found you, in your office well into the night. He looked awful, pale and drained, with dark circles under his eyes and something desperate and hungry in his stare.

-He spoke your name, and he sounded so weak, your heart gave a lurch in your chest. “Dew, honey, when was the last time you ate?”

-”...Two months ago. With you.”

-”God,” you whispered, getting up from your desk and pulling him inside, shutting the door and locking it, just to be cautious. “And you don’t have blood bags?” He shook his head, then reached for your hand.

-”I hate to ask but I don’t have anyone else to turn to and I’m getting so hungry, I’m...I’m scared I might…” His voice shook, and you held up your free hand to stop him. 

-”It’s okay, Dewey. You can drink.”

-His expression brightened a touch, with hope and affection for you. “You sure? Even after last time?”

-”I’m sure,” you said with a soft smile. You led him to your desk, clearing a space for you to sit as you guided him to stand between your knees. “You know...I haven’t forgotten that night. The way you looked after you got done playing, so full of life. And...I haven’t forgotten the way you kissed me.” Your hands went to his chest, and a thrill chased through your blood when you heard him shakily inhale. “Why haven’t you tried to kiss me again? You know I’d let you.”

-His hands covered yours, pressing them into his chest before lifting them to his mouth to kiss your fingertips. “I thought you’d want...some space,” he admitted, looking down at where his hands grasped yours rather than at you. “I basically attacked you, and when you woke up you looked so scared, and...I didn’t think you’d want to be that close to me.”

-”Oh, honey.”

-The warmth of his kisses lingered on your fingertips as you slid them over his cheek, cupping the back of his neck and drawing him close. “I’m sorry if I made you feel like I didn’t want you, Dew. But...I’ve wanted you to kiss me like that for a long time. Well, aside from the bite, but even that wasn’t that bad.” He gave you a soft smile before curling a finger under your chin, tilting your head back at the perfect angle.

-”Is it okay if I kiss you again?”

-”Please,” you breathed, arching your back to press yourself against him, and there wasn’t a single second of hesitation more as his mouth descended on yours. This kiss started soft, as if he wanted to pace himself, but at the first taste of your tongue, he growled and grabbed for your hips, his teeth nipping at your lower lip before tugging at your scarf, baring his mostly healed mark.

-You shivered in his arms as he kissed up the column of your neck, and the moan he dragged from you as he licked over his mark made him shudder in response, one hand pressed to your lower back to push your hips against his. “Tell me to stop, and I will,” he said roughly, his tongue still lapping at your pulse, dragging up to your ear. “Tell me you don’t want this.”

-Your toes curled inside your shoes, the air itself seeming electrified. “Oh God, Dewey, I want this, please-” That was all it took before his fangs sank into your skin again, the pain not nearly as bad as the first time as he pierced your vein and drank greedily from you. He was quick to check on you, mouth stained crimson, his eyes flashing to match, and you shivered with pleasure in his grasp. One nod from you, and he grinned, lowering his mouth to your throat.

-Oh, the euphoria that followed then, the sensual rush of endorphins making you tremble in his arms as he sipped at you. God, he could taste it, could taste your pleasure like a drug, a syrupy sweet venom in your bloodstream. On instinct, his hand slid up inside your shirt, pushing up your bra and finding your nipples hard and aching. “Fuck,” he growled, pulling his teeth from you. “Oh baby, there’s nothing I’d rather do right now than lay you back on your desk and fuck you senseless with your blood on my tongue, but there’s something you need to know first.”

-Your brow furrowed, confused. “What is it, Dew? I want you, please, you make me feel so good-”

-”There’s a reason for that.” His forehead pressed to yours as he sighed, resisting the urge to slide his hand down between your bodies where he could feel your hips rocking restlessly. “Neck bites...they’re a serious thing. They’re not as common as you’ve been led to believe. That’s an incredibly intimate bite, and it...it’s meant to mark the recipient as your lover. It’s meant to bind them to you.” He touched your face, his hand sliding back into your hair. “I shouldn’t have bitten you there, I should have known better, but I was so hungry and you smelled so good, and...I-I’ve had...feelings for you for a while now.” The words spilled out of him in a rush, and it made your heart flutter to see him so flustered in admitting his feelings. “But if we...if I make love to you now, there’s no going back. You’re going to be bound to me. You’re going to want to be near me at all times, it’s...it’s a serious deal.”

-You shook your head, winding your legs around his waist and pulling him flush against you, your breath hitching as you felt yourself rub up against the obvious bulge in his pants. “Dewey, it won’t be any different than it is now. I’ve had feelings for you too, since we started hanging out, I just didn’t want to ruin what we had, and after you kissed me, I kept waiting for you to kiss me again, or mention it, or something, and you didn’t and I thought...I thought it was just the thirst and you didn’t care for me.”

-He laughed, cupping your cheeks in his hands. “God, we’re a mess. One misunderstanding after another.” His hand slipped back under your shirt, this time pulling it up to bare your breasts entirely. “I know this might seem a little out of order, and this probably isn’t the best time to ask but...do you want to go have dinner with me sometime?”

-You smiled, leaning back on your elbow as your other hand slid into his hair, so soft between your fingers. “Isn’t that what we’re doing now?”

-Again, he laughed, kissing down your chest to the swells of your breasts. “An actual dinner, with real food that we both get to eat. Is it a date?” 

-You didn’t get the chance to answer before his tongue began swirling around your nipple, so warm and soft, so you nodded, moaning at the loving, gentle laps. His hunger wasn’t sated yet, but with the edge off, he could slow down a little, appreciate the way you squirmed under his mouth, pushing your breasts up for more. A gleam in his eye, he raked just the barest tips of his fangs over the little bud, grinning when you jolted and squealed. “So sensitive, baby,” he cooed, licking his lips as his thumbs circled your nipples in slow, agonizing tandem. “God, I can’t wait to make you come, you’re gonna look so fucking pretty when you come for me.”

-You hadn’t expected him to talk dirty to you, and you keened, pushing your books and papers onto the floor and wrapping both your arms and legs around him. “God, Dewey, fuck me, please, I c-can’t take it…”

-The growl that left him was inhuman, but it didn’t frighten you; quite the opposite. It was difficult for him to get his belt undone and push his jeans down with you clinging so close, rubbing desperately against him, but he managed. Your skirt pooled up around your hips, your panties were gone in a flash, and when you felt his fingers on your heat, you nearly came undone then and there. 

-At the first touch to your wetness, his eyes rolled back in his head, and he had to grip the desk to keep his knees from buckling underneath him. “God damn, honey, is this just from me biting you? Hm?” His thumb pressed to your clit as he brought himself to your entrance, rubbing in slow, gentle circles. With a groan and a shudder, he slipped inside, his passage eased by your slick. 

-He stopped when he heard you mewl, shooting you a concerned look, but you shook your head, ankles crossed at the small of his back and pressing him closer. “I’m fine, Dew...You just feel so fucking good…”

-His grin was equal parts proud and adoring, his fingers gently grasping your chin as his lips met yours the exact moment he bottomed out inside of you. “Can I move, sweetheart,” he whispered against your mouth, tongue tracing the curve of your lower lip. “Please, fuck, you’re so warm-”

-”For the love of God, Dewey, move.” You both laughed, and his hips began to rock, the drag-push-pull of his length inside of you making you quiver and whine. Your hands locked behind his neck, your head rolling back to put your mark, freshly weeping in the shape of his teeth, on display. Dewey groaned at the sight, running his tongue over the bite to lick up the last traces of your blood.

-As soon as he tasted you again, that gentle pace quickly became frantic, his fingers sinking into your hips as he slammed up into you with bruising force; you would definitely need some help walking out of here. You welcomed it, your body on fire with a need for him, your blood like kerosene. Your lips found his ear, moaned out his name as you wrapped your body around him.

-It didn’t take long for you to reach that peak, especially with the insistent rubbing of his thumb at your clit. With your hands curled in his hair, you whimpered, “D-Dew, I’m...I’m gonna…”

-”Come for me,” he murmured back, his breath shaking, his tone pitched low in feverish need. “Come for me, baby; give it all to me, show me you’re mine…”

-Who were you to disobey?

-You came hard, burying your face in his shoulder, the knit of his sweater muffling your screams. His pace never slowed, surging forward and pressing against your shoulder to lay you back on the desk, watching your breasts bounce as he fucked up into you.

-”Again,” he growled, his eyes flashing red. “Again. Give me more.”

-Three fingers covered your clit and rubbed hard, the head of his cock brushing your sweet spot with every thrust, and you were once more overwhelmed, the intensity of a second shattering orgasm bringing tears to your eyes. He whimpered, clutching at you, torn between chasing his own release or forcing yours from you again. In the end, he had no choice but to obey the whims of his body, and with a whine of your name, he came deep inside of you, grasping at your breast and hunching over you, like a predator with a fresh kill. 

-It seemed to last forever, but finally, he collapsed on his elbows, pressing his hand to your cheek and covering your face with soft little raindrop kisses. “Hey baby, you okay? Still with me?”

-You gave him a smile, your head swimming with satisfied bliss and joy. “Still here,” you murmured. “The answer is yes, by the way.”

-”Huh?”

-”To the date. Yes, I’d love to have dinner with you.”

-He laughed, bringing his lips to yours in a kiss so sweet it made your stomach flutter. “Thank you,” he whispered. “For everything. This...this means more to me than I can tell you.” With a sigh and a bite of his lip, he pulled out of you, the warm rush of your combined fluids coating your thighs. 

-”Feels like you made a mess of me down there, Dew.” You grinned, sitting up on your elbows as he pulled back. His eyes lifted to you, and something flashed in them for a moment. 

-”Mm...guess I should clean you up, then. Don’t suppose you’d mind if I finished my dinner down here, would you?” With that, he fell to his knees between your spread, trembling thighs, and licked a broad, warm stripe over your core. 

-You whined, jolting as his tongue plunged into you to seek out your clit, still over-sensitive from the mind-blowing orgasms. “Dew...oh fuck, please…”

-“You got one more for me, baby, I know you do. Come for me one last time.” His mouth was soft, beckoning, and you were helpless to deny your body its final release, your hips bucking up into his mouth as he sucked at your clit. Just as your pleasure began to fade, his mouth left your sex to sink his teeth into your inner thigh, drawing a yelp from you. Dewey groaned deep, scarlet-tinted eyes rolling back in his head as he drank. A few mouthfuls more, and he was sated for now, licking the fresh wound to stop the bleeding. 

-””You have no idea how good you taste when you’re coming,” he growled. “Your pleasure makes you taste so sweet. A guy could get addicted…”

-A groan left you, your body weak. “Oh fuck, Dew, you’re going to kill me.”

He kissed his way up your stomach, between your breasts, and up your neck, ending at your mouth. “Never, baby,” he assured you. “Never. You’re safe with me, cross my heart and hope to die...again.”

[ofgreyskull]

“ sometimes in the morning i am petrified & can't move awake, but cannot open my eyes & the weight is crushing down on my lungs, i know i can't breathe & hope someone will save me this time. “

adora she-ra | 23 | lesbian | bartender | just wants to be loved

  ─  the mirrors surrounding you did as they were meant to, reflecting back a spitting image of FLORENCE PUGH  -  but it’s clear something is wrong from the moment that a vision of PLANNING A BEST FRIENDS ROADTRIP TO RESTORE MAGIC TO THE UNIVERSE strikes you.  perhaps it was a passing daydream in the frenzy of the funhouse. you reassure yourself  -  you’re ADORA,  a TWENTY THREE YEAR OLD BARTENDER whose virtue lies in your + STRENGTH & + FEARLESSNESS, although you’ve been told that you tend to be quite - BLUNT & - SELF SACRFICING,  and you’re associated with THE SOUND OF A SWORD BEING DRAWN, THE SUN REFLECTING OFF WATER, AN ENDLESS STAR FILLED SKY by those around you.  suddenly,  however,  you’ve found THE SWORD OF PROTECTION on your person - was that always there? from the moment you leave the funhouse,  memories from your life in SHE-RA & THE PRINCESSES OF POWER have begun to return - leaving whoever you had been before in the mirror’s reflection behind you.  you can almost hear BETTER SON/DAUGHTER by RILO KILEY following in your wake.

canon ( full of spoilers so if you’d like to watch the show i wouldn’t read this part. i’m sorry it’s long, this is mostly for me to go back to if i forget something so really i won’t be offended if no one reads this part lmao )

grew up in the horde since an infant with catra, the two of them were raised by shadow weaver and were best friends.

it wasn’t a great childhood

was told how horrible the princesses were and they were the bad guys, they were always told they were a dangerous threat to etheria.

when she is older adora got promoted to force captain which she was extremely happy about.

the two of them sneak out and adora gets lost in the whispering woods. there she comes across the sword of protection and starts having visions when she touches it and it knocks her out.

her and catra return back to the fright zone but adora leaves again that night to go back to the sword.

there she meets bow and glimmer and they fight for the sword. neither of them trust her bc she’s a horde solider and adora ends up getting captured by them.

she learns from bow and glimmer how truly awful the horde is and how they destroy cities, lands, and hurt innocent people.

with the sword she transforms into she-ra ( and is v much horrified about it and the fact she’s a princess) that night when trying to fight off some robot bug.

she also discovers light hope that night too

bow and glimmer take adora to a village that later gets destroyed by the horde and catra appears driving one of the tanks that wrecked the village

adora tries explaining how horrible the horde actually is to catra, how they’ve been manipulated by shadow weaver and hordak their whole lives and tries convincing her to go with her and leave the horde together. catra says no and that begins the first heartbreak adora ever experienced. ( rip that really broke her heart )

the two of them then become enemies ( cue the ‘hey adora’ )

adora as she-ra also accidentally transformed a horse into a unicorn, he’s able to talk, fly, and they’re now linked and he is her steed. his name is swift wind.

adora is now part of the rebellion, lives in bright moon, and the best friend squad gets the princess alliance back together

for a while whenever her and catra would go against each other she would try to convince her to come with her

the fighting between the horde and the rebellion goes on for like two years i believe

still v upset and hurt about catra not being with her but tries not to show it

shadow weaver ends up joining the rebellion 

catra captures adora and wants to use her sword as the key to open the portal and she almost destroys etheria completely.

adora wakes up back at the horde with catra and with her memory completely wiped 

something doesn’t feel right to her and she’s losing track of time and her memories start coming back to her.

reality starts falling apart and adora is trying to reach the portal to close it and save everyone and etheria ( also she has to fight corrupted catra rip )

once she finds the portal she learns she has to sacrifice herself in order to close it and save everyone, but glimmer’s mom does it instead because the world needs she-ra. the portal closes, but adora blames herself for angella’s death

because of what catra did adora completely cuts off catra and stops trying to convince her to join her, not believing things can be the way they used to.

adora learns about the heart of etheria project.

adora tries to stop the heart of etheria activation but glimmer want to activate it thinking it will help them defeat the horde she helps scorpia activate her runsestone. adora goes to light hope to confront her about it around the same time and light hope uses she-ra to begin activating it.

adora learns she’s not from etheria, but instead from eternia, she’s a first one and was sent through a portal as a baby by light hope to become she-ra and complete the heart of etheria project

once the planet is balanced light hope portals etheria out of despondos and back into the wider universe. this also means horde prime and his army can arrive.

adora as she-ra is able to fight the activation process and deactivates it, but in the process breaks the sword of power and believes she isn’t able to transform into she-ra anymore.

adora now has to relearn how to fight without she-ra like back when she was in the horde but it’s extremely difficult and she didn’t realize jsut how much she has come to rely on her power.

horde prime’s army begins attacking etheria, they also have captured glimmer and catra.

adora, bow, and entrapta go in the ship to rescue glimmer from horde prime’s ship.

while in space they receive a message from catra telling them she’s going to send glimmer to them and warns her not to come to horde prime’s ship that it’s a trap for her. catra apologizes to adora before sending glimmer her way.

adora becomes intensely worried for catra and doesn’t want to lose her and realizes just how deeply she’s in love with her.

their ship runs out of fuel and they stop at a planet that has the crystals they need for fuel. once there adora uses her inhuman strength as she used to when she was able to turn into she-ra to stop a rock from crashing down and realizes she still has power within her.

they go to horde prime to save catra.

once in horde prime’s ship that’s when she discovers her under horde prime’s mind control. 

after being surrounded by horde prime’s clones adora is desperate to save catra and get them both out of there. she ends up being able to transform into she-ra and manifest a new sword.

she fights off the clones with catra unconscious in her arms and they return back to the ship.  

once she instructs the ship to go home she goes over to catra and lifts her in her arms and heals her and she can’t stop worrying and checking up on catra the whole way home.

the two of them are back to being close and flirting with each other and it’s so obvious to the ppl around them how much they love each other.

once home they realize just how long they’ve been gone bc most of etheria is under horde prime’s mind control ( including some of the princesses ) and is being taken over with his clones.

shadow weaver comes up with a plan for adora to save the planet, despite it being incredibly dangerous and having to sacrifice herself adora agrees to it much to catra’s dislike. but adora will do anything to save people even if it means getting hurt or dying.

adora accepts the heart’s fail safe and bonds it to her soul to carry it to the heart to etheria

catra ends up leaving in the middle of the night not wanting to watch adora sacrifice herself, but adora catches her and begs her to stay that she needs her. catra leaves and adora cries out for her ( my girl is heartbroken again )

adora heads to the heart of etheria to use the fail safe once there she’s bombarded with visions of her past self  along with horde prime getting into her head and sending a monster for her to fight.

adora is wounded by the monster and cannot fight and can barely walk. catra appears and helps adora by trying to take out the monster. shadow weaver appears as well to help adora get to the heart.

they make it to the heart but adora hears catra scream and goes back to try to save her.

shadow weaver steps in to fight the monster herself and seals the opening for catra and adora to not come through. they have to stand back and watch as she sacrifices herself for them.  

they go to the heart together

she is unable to transform into she-ra bc of horde prime’s virus and tries to convince catra to leave so she can do this on her own, not wanting catra to watch her die. catra ends up staying with her while she uses the fail safe.

adora become unconscious and is on the verge of dying. during this she has a vision of her wish it’s her’s and catra’s future where they’re married. the vision is then interrupted by horde prime.  

she’s dying and while unconscious she hears and sees catra and tries fighting to stay alive, it isn’t until catra tells her she loves her that she’s able to succeed in staying alive.

she wakes up in catra’s arms and tells her she loves her too AND THEY KISS

the failsafe works and saves the planet right before her friends and etheria is about to be destroyed

adora as she-ra appears where horde prime is and destroys his ship and heals the planet, as well as gets rid of horde prime for good.

the best friend squad ( which now includes catra ) agree on going on another mission to bring back magic to the universe

in alucard

   growing up in alucard wasn’t easy for adora, she was in the foster care system since she was a baby and knows nothing about her parents or why they gave her up. she remained in a group home with other kids in the system, watching as some of the kids she became friends with got adopted into families while she remained in the home. the home was strict and adora is a stickler for rules so she always did what was told of her, she became a ‘favorite’ to the house parents. because of that she never got in trouble/punished when she occasionally broke a rule or two with the other kids. instead she would get numerous lectures about how much better she was than the others, how she shouldn’t follow them, and what great things she could do if she keeps listening to the house parents. adora didn’t understand it at them time, what they meant or why she was the favorite, but she did like attention and the feeling of a ‘parent’ looking out for her. she didn’t realize until she was older that the house parents were grooming her to be exactly who they wanted her to be. adora herself never knew what she wanted to be or who she truly was because she always followed what the house parents told her to be, always did what was told of her. all she wanted was to be loved.

   after her eighteenth birthday she was out of the system, her house parents urged her to join the military. they told her it would be perfect for her because of how strong and how immaculate of a fighter she is. the more adora thought about it the more she realized she didn’t want that for herself, she didn’t want to hurt people. that was when adora made her first choice for herself, she decided to leave the home and begin her life without the influence of her house parents. she jumped from job to job for a few years, trying to make any money she could to be able to afford a place to live. she finally settled on being a bartender, even though it’s not the job she had dreamed for herself she gets paid well and it’s enough until she figures out what she’s good for. 

powers/abilites

transformation - is able to transform into she-ra and is able to transform the sword into various objects

superhuman strength

superhuman agility

healing powers

animal transformation

energy blast

aura generation

animal magic

sword summoning

space survival

expert at hand to hand combat

weaknesses

the data disk - a first one’s tech that is able to corrupt and control any other first ones tech that comes into contact with it or whatever it controls. when the sword is infected with it  while adora is she-ra she enters a violent, berserk rage. she incapable to telling who is a friend or an enemy and goes after anyone/anything in sight. take the sword away from her and destroying the disk is the only way to stop the corruption. once the sword is taken adora falls into an inebriated state and she doesn’t remember what happened.

unclear mind - when her mind is unfocused or full of doubt she can’t transform into she-ra

traits/personality

brave

loyal

indomitable will

a leader

stubborn

competitive

rule follower

needs a plan for everything

connections

catra: ex-girlfriend, ended on bad terms, but still loves her 

hmu on discord if you wanna plot !! 

[sunevial]

Directors commentary: What it’s like writing the various forms of inhumanity among the followers

For this, I’m going to be completely neglecting how I write Young Priest, because he’s still basically human for the purposes of the Follower’s universe. He thinks, acts, and behaves with human qualities, even if he’s really not human anymore from a physical standpoint. That being said, there are some things I have hinted on that I’ll touch on later. 

I’ll break this up into two parts

Those Who Were Never Human, aka the Old Guard (Old Priestess, Lieutenant, Advisor)

Old Priestess is probably the most difficult character for me to write in general. She is complicated and layered, probably moreso than any other character I have to write for this universe. Compassionate yet oh so cruel, manipulative yet still somewhat caring, vain and self assured yet a little fragile, never wanting to be vulnerable yet still wanting to keep her own close to her chest. She is a scorned immortal, fallen from grace and power, and it shows in her actions and her words and the very way she carries herself. Her hatred of humanity runs deep, and no amount of revenge will satisfy it, but she is so incredibly lonely and so incredibly wounded and so incredibly filled with a sorrow even she won’t admit. 

When I write her, I write her knowing she is old, she is bitter, and that she values nature and the natural world more than anything. She is always in control of every situation she is present in, and she makes her presence known. She never uses contractions, has certain words she calls certain people, and she can flip between being terrifying to sweet on a dime. You should never feel completely safe when she’s in the room, even when she’s not using magic, and every other character knows that.

Unlike Priestess, who knows humanity inside and out, Lieutenant knew nothing of humanity before his time with the Followers. He barely registers all five senses (sight and hearing being the easiest, followed by touch, with taste and smell being the most complex), and at the very start, he only really had a grasp of one emotion: fear. By the ‘present’ day, he has collected a couple more, including anger, a sense of contentment, and possibly a sense of displeasure (and that’s pushing it). That being said, he is not a creature that knows malice, and despite his cold words, he never acts out of spite or with ill intent.

Combined with that is him being someone that is barely used to having physical presence. He never walks when he can just teleport, though he might to humor his colleagues. Physical matter confuses him, so anything that isn’t a void construct is difficult for him to properly use (his aim is terrible with anything that isn’t his knife). He rarely relies on his shell to perceive the world around him, as only a very small portion of his actual self is contained within that body. Above all, through, he is a curious individual, wanting to better understand this world he now lives in. He asks questions that most mortals wouldn’t think to ask, and even if he doesn’t feel emotions, he has learned how to perceive them well.

Advisor splits the difference between the two immortals, having less direct experience with mortals than Priestess and having a better understanding of them than Lieutenant. In many respects, he seems the most human out of them, always cordial and polite and professional in his manner. He is genuinely kind when he wants to be, always open to teach others or give a helping hand because he is a researcher and he wants to see results. 

This also makes him the most unnerving at times, because his oddness is treated so casually. He makes remarks that are eerie in their simplicity, uses reality warping magic with the same care we take to breathe, and he can read emotions and minds and the future with no effort at all. I never write his magic the same way twice, because much of his powers are based in the fact that he is chaos incarnate and does not hide that. Advisor is not scary because of what he can directly do, though that’s scary in of itself, but he’s scary because you quite simply don’t know how much he can do on the sidelines. There’s a reason why I write him with a sort of surprising upbeat flair; he doesn’t have a reason to be anything but. 

Those Who Were Once Human (Witch, Bookkeeper, Huntress, Part Timer)

As we’ve seen throughout the story of the Followers, Witch used to be a perfectly normal and perfectly sane person, someone capable of truly loving and fearing the world like a mortal. She’s no longer that person. Margaret was broken and battered, reshaped and reformed into the image of the people who trained her. Her empathy and compassion were beaten out of her, replaced with a sadistic cheerfulness that rarely drops. They bound her loyalty with string and thread, made her scream until she could scream no more, and so she was stripped of fear and sorrow. She takes deals and sells to all who come to her door. 

I write Witch to be emotive but not emotional, because while you can always tell what she’s feeling or thinking based on her expression, she doesn’t feel those emotions much at all. Her words are always just a little too empty, and that’s by design. The only time that it comes through is when she’s actively trying to care, because some small parts of her still remember what it means to be human. She shows those around her daughter, and that’s why she sounds more complete when they’re talking, because it’s the only time she is allowed such a luxury. 

Bookkeeper, in many respects, is the exact opposite of Witch. Knowing she sold her soul and life for something so trivial weighs on Bookkeeper heavily, but she does her work and she does it well. She has put up walls, walls to mimic the cold exterior of an indifferent immortal while she internally suppresses all of the emotions she still maintains. Because she feels, even if she denies that she does, because that is the only way she remains herself. She has willingly remade herself before, and she’ll do it again, becoming petty, selfish, and a master of the passive aggressive arts.

There is not a word that leaves Bookkeeper’s mouth that isn’t at least partially an insult, though she may drop that streak for Witch. She will never admit to anything willingly, but she will answer at least in half truths if directly asked. Her opinions are strong and firm, unbending and unyielding because she has read enough to win just about any argument thrown her way. She hates getting her hands dirty, but she makes no secret that she will do the work that keeps her out of the line of fire because she is deadly efficient. And deep inside her, she occasionally allows herself to pity, to care, to allow herself to care.

Huntress is stubborn, stubborn beyond belief because while being mortal, no amount of physical or mental abuse could ever make her break. She is strong, she is angry, she is flawed, but she owns every aspect of herself she likes and every aspect of herself she despises. Because of that, Huntress will always be just that, herself and there is nothing the other Followers could ever do to change that. If Huntress wishes to change, that’s on her own terms and no one else’s. That doesn’t mean she is mortal, though, because she was always just a bit more than that even in life. 

Knowing this, writing Huntress becomes a balance of making her not wanting to play nice with the other Followers but more than willing to play along. Her heart is hard and cold, and she has no sympathy for the pain of the people she loves. She laughs loudly and brashly, her emotions and actions always a little more feral. Her first resort is violence and she relishes in it, because there’s only one Follower who has a true bloodlust. She is impatient, unyielding, always up to play and to hunt and to hurt. Her compassion is rough, but it is there, and she makes sure not to lose it. It keeps her grounded.

Of the mortals, Part Timer has retained his humanity the most, and that’s saying something. Each of his personalities retain thought processes are still incredibly human, each very distinct in how they act and how they feel. Some are more caring, some are more angry, some are more scattered, and some are more logical, but all still retain a fair bit of humanity when everything is boiled down. That being said, all but one of his personalities has accepted that they can’t retain that humanity forever, and the good doctor is fighting to keep what little sanity he remains.

Taken together with his condition, Part Timer’s inhumanity is written in a man who can never be whole. He has little control of who’s in charge. His actions are consistent within the personalities, but they switch so rapidly and so violently that it’s hard to predict. While he tries to keep things light and polite, he still fears his colleagues more than he trusts them, and so he refuses to let his guard down even for a second around most of them. He resists learning magic, resists accepting its use by both the people around him and himself, because the more he leans into the use of magic, the more he loses his grip on his sense of self.

Now, for Young Priest, the challenge is to write him in a way where the hints of inhumanity are starting to creep in. He’s an artist, first and foremost, and already he’s starting to get a little lost in that world. His transformation is fueled by a desire to save his sister, so he needs the ability to do magic well. Something I’ve been trying to show how much magic tempts him, how much learning tugs at his morals and at his sense of humanity. His discomfort keeps him grounded for now, but it’s starting to lessen with every step he takes. It won’t break for a long time yet, but Priestess chose him well.

She knows that the temptation will someday outweigh his humanity, and she intends to make sure that as it happens, he stays loyal and true.

[thenightling]

My top thirteen favorite individual Sandman issues (Opinion)

Keep reading below...

Warning: Contains some spoilers.

13.  The Sandman Special 1: Song of Orpheus.

The Song of Orpheus is a backstory revealing Morpheus’ falling out with his son Orpheus and the slight revisions Neil Gaiman made to the classic Greek myth of Orpheus visiting The Underworld to try to retrieve his wife.  

In The Sandman, Morpheus is Orpheus’ estranged father.  I love the character of Morpheus but I’ll put it bluntly right here and now.  He used to be an asshole.  He may have even been easy to brand as a villain during his backstory.   

Much of The Sandman is Morpheus’s redemption, setting right the terrible wrongs of his past.   And in Brief lives he is forced to face the sins of his past in regard to how he treated his son.  But here is where we get that tragic backstory and a raw, cold taste of what a jerk Morpheus used to be as a contrast to how much he grows later.     

12.   Sound of her Wings  (The Sandman issue 8)

The Sound of Her wings is the issue of The Sandman that introduces us to Death of The Endless, Dream’s older sister (though she looks younger).  Today she is the official living embodiment of Death for all of DC comics.    Though I have to confess the main reason I like this one is how adorkable Morpheus is when he’s feeding birds.   And that happy expression on his face at the end of the issue. You don’t see that too often with him.   

11.  Calliope (The Sandman Issue 17)  

Just as Song of Orpheus shows us the assholary of Morpheus’ past, Calliope shows us just how much he has changed.   The story is brutal and difficult to read but you also get to see Morpheus as an avenging angel figure, saving his ex-wife from an abusive master who sees her as something less than human.

Poor Calliope was captured and enslaved by mortals who have abused her in the most sadistic and insidious ways.  It’s not just a man abusing a woman (that’s bad enough) but you also see a dehumanization.  The writer currently exploiting and abusing poor Calliope has thought processes along the lines of “It would be wrong if she was a real woman.” 

The fact that she is a muse- a supernatural entity- causes him to treat her as something less than a human being. This is actually a recurrence in The Sandman as we also saw how inhumanely Morpheus’ own captors treated him. 

What happens to Calliope is a chilling display of the inhumanity that could also be an allegory for casual misogyny and to a certain extent, even racism.   The cruelty is such that it’s hard to feel sympathy when Morpheus unleashes his anger on Calliope’s abuser.         

This is also the first time we almost see Morpheus apologize to someone for his previous behavior but he doesn’t actually start doing that until The Season of Mists.

10.   Soft Places   (The Sandman Issue 39)   

Soft Places is a story that can be read at nearly any point in The Sandman.  What I like most about this issue is if you pay careful attention you realize that when Morpheus makes his appearance in this story he is actually between issues 1 and 2 of The Sandman.  He was on his way back to the castle, weakened from his long captivity.  And Marco Polo (lost in time and space) shows him pity and compassion and offers him his water.  For this reason Morpheus helps him to get back home.  

Morpheus sacrifices the last of his own strength to do this, leaving himself at the indefinite mercy of The Soft Place.   Thankfully Gregory (the rather dog-like Gargoyle) finds him and takes him home to his master, Cain at The House of Mystery.

Not only did this give a satisfying story between the first two issues but also teased an what was yet to come and what was happening “Off camera” after the events of A Game of you.   

9.   The Wake: Epilogue: Sunday Morning (The Sandman issue 73) 

I always liked Hob Gadling (Morpheus’ immortal / formerly human) friend.   Here we get a brief story about Robert  “Hob” Gadling.  He also tells about a dream he had and he is given the chance to die but (as always) chooses against it.

Hob’s indefinite life may have actually secured Morpheus’ own posthumous existence as a Dream Entity.   The dream Hob had in this story was of Morpheus (after his death) and Destruction of The Endless.   Here’s the thing though.  At the time Hob had this dream Destruction really was visiting The Dreaming.  And Hob had no idea what connection Destruction had with his deceased friend.  He only knew Destruction as a street artist he had seen once. 

The implication I get here is that Daniel brought Morpheus back as a dream entity.  And with someone like Hob there to potentially dream of him eternally that secures Morpheus’ post-humous existance and freedom from having to be Dream of The Endless for all eternity.   This is how I choose to interpret it.   Call me a dreamer. ;-) 

The artwork is also gorgeous in all of The Wake.  

8.    Midsummer Night’s Dream (The Sandman issue 19)

A Midsummer Night’s Dream happens to be my favorite Shakespearean play so this was a real treat.   We got a fun story and a dark yet also delightfully wicked version of Robin Goodfellow (Puck).  And we got a loving nod to Shakespearean history.  

Morpheus has Shakspeare perform the A Midsummer Night’s Dream play for the real faery court.  And all sort of things happen as well.

If you pay attention you notice Titania tempts Shakespeare’s little son. She also lures him to eat faery fruit.  And anyone who knows faery lore knows what that mean.  She has laid claim to the boy.   He will become a faery and belong to her. And that is a nice, bitter-sweet way of addressing the loss of Shakespeare’s little boy.

The story also has one of the most unforgettable Sandman quotes.   “Tales and dreams are the shadow truths that will endure when mere facts are dust and ash, and forgot.” 

7.   Overture Part 6 (The Sandman Overture Part 6)

I love The Sandman: Overture with all my heart.   And it was difficult to pick a specific issue of it to be a favorite.   I chose part 6 because this is the moment where Dream, Desire, and Hope save the universe.   The metaphor is brilliantly obvious.  

The artwork is gorgeous.  And we get to see both Dream and Desire be heroes (”just for one day.”)

You also get to see exactly what happened to Morpheus right before his capture in The Sandman: Preludes and Nocturnes.  

6.   The Doll’s House Part 4: Men of Good Fortune. (The Sandman issue 13)

I mentioned before that I love Hob Gadling.  This is the story that introduced us to him. Not only do we get the backstory of Morpheus’ immortal friend but we also get to see our proud antagonist finally swallow his pride and admit that yes, he has a friend.   It’s one of the sweetest issues of The Sandman while also showing how people (in general) don’t really change.  Individuals might but human beings are still human beings and the complaints of the thirteenth century are eerily similar to the complaints of the late twentieth century. This story is also the first time (I think) we see Morpheus say his indignant “You dare?”   

5.  The Parliament of Rooks (The Sandman Issue 40)

This is a fun issue.  Baby Daniel lucid dreams his way to The House of Secrets where  Eve, Cain, and Abel tell stories to him.  Eve tells her own “three-in-one” tale and Abel introduces us to the concept of “Lil Endless.”    

4.   Season of Mists Part 2. (The Sandman issue 23)

This was a great issue.  After all the build up of Morpheus planning to return to Hell to rescue Nada (whom he wrongfully left there ten-thousand-years before) and the fear and dread involved with going back there we find out that Lucifer has quit.   

Lucifer explains to Morpheus why he’s shutting down Hell (Dialogue adapted by the Lucifer TV series for a conversation between Lucifer and Linda). He the asks Morpheus to help him cut off his own wings and finally Lucifer leave Morpheus with the key to Hell.  

Now poor Morpheus must figure out what to do with the abandoned dimension and deal with the various Gods, goddesses and creatures of mythology and folklore who have come to try to lay claim to it.  

3.   Sleep of The Just (The Sandman issue 1)

This is the very first issue of The Sandman and it was very different from the first issue of any other comic book I had ever read before.   A LOT happened here.  Where most comic book writers would have taken this story told in this issue and stretched it out for twelve issues, this was concise and brilliantly written.

The Order of Ancient Mysteries, lead by Roderick Burgess, summon and trap Morpheus AKA Dream of The Endless.   They were trying to summon his sister, Death, but got him by mistake.   He is held prisoner for seventy-two-years before finally escaping and seeking revenge on his captor.  

What I like most about this issue is that the story really ropes you in and the internal artwork reminds me of a classic horror comic, something I really appreciated.

2.  A hope in Hell (The Sandman Issue 4)

This is The Sandman issue where I truly realized I was reading something utterly different.  When I first started reading The Sandman it was mostly to learn Lucifer’s comic book back story but I fast got hooked on THIS story and forgot all about Luci. 

I must confess that though I am a life-long comic book reader I have a habit of skimming or out right skipping most combat scenes.  I find them boring and often over the top.   (I was a teenager in the 90s and early 2000s and got burnt out on over-the-top action scenes a long time ago).  So I fully anticipated having to skim over certain parts of The Sandman.

However...

It was when I got to “the battle” in A Hope in Hell that I finally let my guard down and realized this was something completely different.  This was never going to be like any other comic I had ever read.  There would be no giant factory explosions or characters punching each other on busy center-fold pages full of sound effects and fire.   

When I got the line “I am hope.” I finally let my guard down and understood the real magick in what I was reading.  That was the moment I fell in love with The Sandman. 

 Also I love David Bowie.

1.  Imperfect Hosts (The Sandman issue 2).   

As you may have guessed A hope in Hell PROBABLY should be at number 1 on this list but I have a soft spot for Imperfect Hosts for what a delightful surprise it was for me.

I love Gothic Horror.  I grew up loving anthology horror like Tales from the crypt.   Imagine my surprise to discover The Sandman’s minion “Nightmares” entailed old school horror hosts.  Even Destiny of The Endless, the mad mod witch (The Fashion Thing) ,The Hecatae, and Lucien The Librarian were all old horror hosts. 

To see someone like the Crypt Keeper-esque Cain taking care of the weakened Dream Lord was a treat for me.   I also noticed the loving homages to horror comics artist Bernie Wrightson. 

Bernie Wrightson holds a special place in my heart because many years ago my mother gave me a large coloring book signed by Bernie Wrightson.  I didn’t recongize the name but she recongized his style as something I like.  And she was right.   It turned out I already had several books that had been drawn by him but had never checked the name.   I have long since lost that coloring book... and my mother...   But Bernie was a reminder of how well she sometimes knew me.  And this issue reminded me of Bernie Wrightson and so reminded me of her.  So Imperfect Hosts had to take the number 1 spot.   

It also introduced us to the adorable baby Goldie.

[maskydoo-old]

Nightmare Neighbors 6

(I’m writing out scripts for upcoming storytime style youtube videos, and posting what I have here. Note that this is a true story. Feedback is welcome.)

Nightmare Neighbors 6 draft

Imagine the angriest crazies you’ve ever met online. Now imagine they know where you live. Now imagine, they routinely hang around near your house, waiting to catch you outside and alone.

Somehow, my life next to Loony and Toony Feckwad was like living right next to the worst kind of Youtube comments section.

And there’s no simple block function.

Now, I’ve been using the made-up names for these people throughout the telling of this story so far, but during these events, I didn’t actually know these people’s names.

I figured at this point, since I was getting the law involved, I really should find out.

Also, I told my boss about what happened, and he told the higher ups at the company. They decided for security reasons to preemptively ban the two crazies from the premises, and needed names and identifying photos so the guards could deny them entry if they ever showed up at my work.

But. Like. It’s not like I could just ask them their names anymore.

So what can I do?

The obvious option was to do a public records search by looking up their address. I got names… but… I wasn’t entirely 100% totally certain it was really them.

I didn’t know how trustworthy the information on shady-looking public records sites would be, and I didn’t want to accidentally give the police, and eventually the court, the wrong people’s names.

I was especially confused since multiple surnames came up for Loony, and I wasn’t sure if they were different people who happened to have the same first name, or if Loony really did change her surname that many times. (It turned out to be the latter.)

So. To Facebook. I couldn’t find a profile for Toony, but I did find Loony. Good enough, now I could confirm their identities.

That was all I wanted to do. I didn’t care to go through her information, and I certainly didn’t want to contact her. I wanted as little to do with her as possible, which was partly why I waited this long to even find out their names.

I was about to click away when… I noticed something. Right to the top of her profile there were several unhinged posts that were clearly about me.

For starters, she was convinced I was stalking her Facebook, and had been for some time. These posts were deranged rants that were clearly meant to call me out, and included lines like:

“I know you’re reading this, stalker!”

I mean… now I was reading it, but these posts went back weeks, months. What the hell, lady? She thought I cared to see her facebook, but that was the first time I ever looked her up.

She even had one that was taunting me for not getting to have her husband and how she’s a special beautiful wife.

She… just has no grasp on reality at all. Imagine being mercilessly harassed by crazy people over a situation that only ever existed in their head.  

In her posts, she also ranted about how I was calling her from hidden numbers. Anytime she got a call, it was absolutely me. It MUST have been.

I don’t. I don’t think I have to tell you I obviously never called these people. I’m a millennial. I can barely be bothered to call people I actually like. I order pizza through apps just to avoid speaking to a human.

But that’s not all I was accused of. In a more recent post, she insisted that I had some habit of driving slowly past her house with binoculars.

Ummm…

I live next door to her. I drive in this neighborhood because… I live here. But I funny enough, I don’t drive past her house. I don’t need to. My house is on the corner.

And what would I need binoculars for? Their house is only a few yards from the road. Even if I wanted to watch them… I wouldn’t need binoculars for it. And I would think driving at the same time would be pretty difficult.

I don’t think I even own any binoculars.

And what a weird thing to complain about when they are literally the ones watching me. They watch me from their windows, they stand outside in the dark waiting for me to get home from work. And apparently that’s OK.

Lady. Lady. Lady…. lady. Lady. Do you live in your own little world?

I guess she just assumed that since she was so obsessed with me, I must be obsessed with her.

That’s… that’s not how anything works.

I know in an previous video I called out Toony as a viewer,  

(replay joke)

But that was obviously a JOKE. I don’t expect him to ever actually watch this. And I don’t expect he’d have the self-awareness to recognize himself if he did.

But Loony, Loony really thought I had nothing better to do stalk her, or at leas that’s what she was claiming to think on Facebook for whatever relatives of hers that would see it.

I have no idea why she wrote those things. It could be she was just lying for attention, just making it up out of nothing. For what reason, I have no idea.

Or It could be that she was truly delusional, and genuinely believed her own words. It’s possible she was suffering from very real paranoia.

I think the difference between her paranoia and mine is that I actually did have crazy, hostile neighbors.

Whereas Luna had a neighbor who wanted nothing to do with her. I’d be happy to pretend she didn’t exist. If she and Toony ever quit their nonsense, that would be the end of it.

Yet here she was, pretending it was the other way around.

Now. I don’t really care about the unflattering and untrue things she was saying about me on her page. They were absolutely insane, yes, but were not really harassment like standing around in the dark screaming at me when I get home. It’s her page. She can write what she wants. I don’t have to read it.

What I did care about though were the references she kept making in her rants to the day I’d ‘get what was coming to me.’ She said multiple vague threatening sounding things along those lines in a number of her posts about me.

So, yeah… I was right about this pattern of escalation. This nutjob clearly intended to do me harm eventually. As she said herself, it was only a matter of time.

To make matters worse is her Facebook friends and family believed her, and wanted involved. Maybe they’re similarly crazy people, or maybe they were actually decent folks but, since they only had her crazy words to go on, got a very wrong impression of the actual situation.

Either way, this was really concerning when a number of these people left comment son her rants, offering to come ‘deal with me,’ and asking Loony for my information, my name, where I lived.

Ok, so that angry internet strangers at my house metaphor I used earlier had a strong chance of becoming a lot more real than I thought. There were now strangers volunteering to physically come to my home to physically punish me for things the Feckwads were making up.

This is bad. This is real bad.

I didn’t know what to do. I was completely sickened by what I saw. I knew I never wanted look at her page again. I just wanted to close the page and never think of it again.

But�� forgetting what I saw wouldn’t make it go away. The danger still existed.

And now it wasn’t just the neighbors I had to worry about. This witch has and an army of flying monkeys to send at me. Any random stranger on the block could have been with Loony and I had no way of knowing.

At this point in my life, I was already dealing with a lot of problems. And I really, really, really did not need this.

I was now alone most of the year, with my boyfriend away at work in another country. I didn’t really have any friends or family nearby. Not much of a social life to speak of. Even at work I was largely isolated. Being a security guard, I was often the only person in the entire building.

My only regular human contact was decidedly negative, which made me withdraw more.

It was like when you burn your hand, you don’t want to reach out again.

And now even had to worry about random strangers at my door.

As I mentioned before, my work schedule was inhuman. I’d work morning, day, and night shift all within the span of a week. Sometimes, these would be 12-hour shifts with only 8-hours off in between. I never had a consistent sleep times.

And when I tried to sleep, I was kept awake by daytime noises, just the unease of being alone, and by having unstable neighbors who liked to sneak around near my house at night.

The work schedule and lack of sleep weren’t great for my grades. I was, of and on, taking classes full time. Or, I was trying to, but concentration was hard. I ended up getting sick and as a result of everything, failed an important class.

My dog got sick, needing medication multiple times per day. Then my cat got sick, and needed emergency surgery. I’d drag myself half asleep to vet appointments, try to find ways to make medication times fit work hours, setting alarms to wake myself up in the few hours I could sleep to give meds, and worried constantly about how I was going to pay for it all.

I spent most of my time indoors. The construction of our homes was very much not in my favor. The way they were designed, the neighbors could easily see from their windows when I was outside. Their bedroom window had a clear view over my fence and into my back yard. And their kitchen widow could see my driveway, so they always knew when I came or left. If they saw me outside, they’d shout from their windows or even come outside to confront me.

But my windows minded their own business. I couldn’t see their property from inside my house they way they could see mine. So I had no way of knowing if they were out there until I was already out my door. I had no way of avoiding them.

So I just. Stayed inside. I was exhausted anyway.

That garden project I wanted to start? Not happening now that my yard isn’t a relaxing place to be anymore.

My dog wants to play, but she’ll have to settle for chasing the ball inside.

The grass is getting long, but I can only manage a section at a time before I’m interrupted.

Eventually, it got hard to find the motivation to do much of anything at all. I hardly even saw the sun anymore.

I’m not saying that the neighbors alone pushed me to seriously google symptoms of depression. They weren’t that powerful, and I wouldn’t want to give them too much credit. I probably would have been feeling generally pretty low anyway.

But they were an extra source of stress that I did not need on top of everything else, and contributed to making my existing troubles worse.

I mush have looked pretty pathetic. I don’t care much for malls, but I dragged myself to one one day, and I wasn’t even sure why. I guess I just wanted to be away from my house. I bought a pair of pants I didn’t need just to justify the trip. This cashier, I didn’t even know her, came around the corner and hugged me. I didn’t tell her anything, but I guess she just knew I needed it.

I should be able to feel safe in my home, but this was stolen from me. I worried about what might come next. Maybe they’d damage my property. Maybe they’d hurt my dogs. Maybe they’d attack me in my driveway or break into my home. Maybe they’d send a stranger after me.

I couldn’t know.

But what I did know, is that I couldn’t live with this. No. I wouldn't live like this. I refused.

Time for a plan.