#while they desperately try to save the inhabitants and protect themselves

[chitinleg]

[bts-hyperfixation]

Outside of the Fox

OT7 x Reader - BTS (3017 words)

Chapter 1/30

Y/N longs for a new life when the one she'd been living comes to an abrupt stop. Without much thought to those she is leaving behind, the little fox packs a backpack and disappears. She stumbles across the shelter and makes an interim home for herself while she works out exactly what she wants from her second chance.

The house is a small cottage, rather tiny really compared to the three-story Victorian homes surrounding it. Most people shrugged their shoulders and called it cute when they came to visit, quaint even. The inhabitants begged to differ. They would call it shabby, run-down, and desperately in need of bulldozing, but above all else, they would call it home

 “Hyuuung, it’s too cold” Jungkook whined from where he is cuddled into the arm of their shabby leather sofa. 

A draft blew in around the gaps in the window ledge, the panes in desperate need of double glazing and sealant. The young bunny’s tail twitched in discomfort as he attempted to burrow himself into the overstuffed cushions, a blanket pulled suffocatingly tight around his shoulders.  His large brown eyes were the only thing that could be seen poking out from under the worn plaid fabric. The younger man glared at his partner across the room, trying to convince the older man to come to him.

The bear hybrid shook his head but saved his work and closed the browser before moving away from his corner desk to the other side of the small sofa. Jungkook wasted no time jumping across into the large man’s lap, dragging his blanket with him to cover the two of them. Namjoon reached out to pet the rabbit between his ears, earning a satisfied purr.

“You know we will never be able to afford to heat the hovel this winter if you won’t let me finish any of my work Bun…” Namjoon pointed out, but his arms encircled his youngest lover anyway.

Jungkook leant back long enough to get a good look at Namjoon. His stubble had grown much thicker as the cold weather drew closer. The dark circles under his eyes were also becoming more pronounced as he lost more and more sleep trying to keep their little family afloat. He rubbed the end of his cold nose against the older man’s, making them both laugh.He nestled back into the crook of Namjoon’s neck and made himself comfortable in the embrace. 

That’s how they'd fallen asleep, and that’s how Yoongi found them when he walked through their front door. He dropped his bags and removed his shoes before he traipsed across the thread-bare carpet, curled into Joon’s side and pulled a little part of the blanket for himself.

Subconsciously, Namjoon’s arm reached over Yoongi’s shoulder and pulled him close, an innate instinct to protect the small jackal from the cold world. Before long Yoongi's breathing matched the others and he too fell asleep. 

They remained like that together for the majority of the afternoon, drifting in and out of naps and hushed conversations, the perfect picture of domestic intimacy. Right until they'd been abruptly awoken by their fourth and final packmate screeching as he opened the door.

“Goooooodd Evening family,” Jimin called, sweeping dramatically through the front door and into the living room. 

Groggily, the others unfolded themselves from each other to look at the man before them. Jungkook hissed, annoyed as Namjoon released him in his attempt to turn and see Jimin. Large arms encircled him again, squeezing him too tightly for just a moment, calming him instantly.

“You’re awfully chipper, Chim.” Yoongi said, rubbing his eyes sleepily.

Jungkook reached out to pull Jimin into his lap, earning a soft groan from the bear beneath him who hadn’t been expecting the sudden weight change. Still, he'd accepted the fourth man happily, nuzzling into his neck. Namjoon blew a raspberry onto the red panda's exposed skin, making him squirm. Jimin swatted at their largest packmate and launched back into his theatrical attitude, 

“Wouldn’t you be chipper if you’d just met the love of your life?” The redhead sighed dramatically, falling back against Joon’s chest with the back of his hand pressed to his forehead.

Each of the men around him released varying growls of displeasure at the new announcement,

"Relax," Jimin holds his hands up in surrender. "I meant the fourth love of my life, potentially the love of our lives." He paused for effect, taking in the various expressions of bemusement around him. 

None of the men seemed particularly thrilled at the idea. Yoongi glanced at Joon, already weary of how much the leader was going through just to keep their little family from going under. Namjoon's brows knitted together as his brain tried to calculate how he could make it work, willing to do anything for his family. Jungkook whined, Namjoon's fingers had gone still, no longer playing absently with his hair, far less concerned with the thought of another pack mate, if Jiminie loved them of course he'd love them. 

The redhead allows each of them to digest his news, eyes flitting between each member, trying to measure how he should proceed. He knew it wouldn't go down well. Namjoon's editor had refused every amendment he'd tried to make, and he wouldn't see a penny until the preorders could be made. Yoongi hadn't had a hit in a while, everyone was going through a phase of self-production and he just wasn't able to flow creatively. Jungkook hadn't been able to work since they'd found him. He was getting better every day, and maybe he would be ready soon, but not yet. And Jimin knew his volunteer work wasn't helping in the slightest but he couldn't leave behind all those that had helped him when he needed it most. 

"Look, I know it's not ideal... I really didn't expect it, I swear.... And I don't even know if she'd be interested in me, let alone a full pack. She is pretty and funny though, and she seems so nice, and I just... I don't know, I just want to know her." Jimin rushed to try and explain. 

"She?" Yoongi fixed, eyes narrowing "I've never considered a female...." He shrugged and reached out to pat Jimin lovingly. "I suppose there is no harm in meeting her if you feel so strongly, love," He conceded immediately after meeting Jimin's eyes, never able to refuse him a thing. 

Namjoon shook his head, fingers starting to scratch at Jungkook's ear again as he unfroze.

"There is definitely no harm in making a new friend at the very least, but we can't make any promises Chim,.." 

The bear's free hand pinched at Jimin's cheek. "Where did you meet her anyway? I thought you were at the shelter today?"

"Well you see... that's the thing." The red panda replied sheepishly before launching into a high-energy reenactment of his day. 

_________________________________

It started off as any other, he clocked into volunteer at the hybrid shelter, the same one he had stayed at when he had nowhere else to go. He grabbed a coffee and headed into the main room, playing with some of the cubs as their parents prepared for job interviews and university courses.

The centre catered for a wide variety of hybrids: some escaped abusive humans or illegal syndicates, some had been abandoned as kids or orphaned, and others had just wanted a change and moved into town without any plans of their own. Jimin was one of the latter. He'd grown up in the mountains with his mother and a couple of siblings but he'd never enjoyed the reclusive life that had allowed them, he longed for something with more people, and more excitement. So with no plan, and less money, he made his way into town performing odd jobs in exchange for meals and small fares to pay his way, eventually stumbling upon the shelter. 

He'd met Namjoon there, long after the bear had already settled down with Yoongi. Namjoon had been researching shelters for an article and Jimin showed him around. Then after the article was published the older man found himself lingering around the shelter in the evenings just to catch a glimpse of the other's bright hair in the distance, right up until Yoongi marched past him and into the building one day demanding that Jimin move in with them so his lover would stop going out to pine over other men. Namjoon's face had gone as red as Jimin's hair that day, especially seeing as Yoongi had never met Jimin before that.

You'd walked in around noon, just as Jimin managed to get the youngest down for a nap. He'd placed the cub into a bassinet and rushed to meet you before any of the other volunteers could steal his chance. Jimin had nearly knocked down poor Wonho as he zoomed past to get to you first. He tried desperately to be charming as he took you through the protocols of the building, explaining the rules and regulations you would need to follow in order to stay with them at the shelter.

You nodded along graciously as he showed you to a cot with a lockable box where you could leave your things. He wanted to ask you about how you'd managed to find your way to the shelter. A hybrid as pretty as you was very rarely alone in a town like this. Still, even in his excitement, Jimin knew better than to pry, you would tell them in your own time if you wanted to. 

He left you to settle in for a little while and tried to focus on a game of chess with one of the old timers that had just stopped by for some company, but he couldn't help wondering how you were getting on with unpacking. You hadn't arrived with much, a backpack and some electronics. He thought about maybe taking you shopping but there was very limited funding in the budget at the moment. The elder hybrid checked him just as you walked into the rec room.

It's like he could sense the exact moment you walked into the room. His gaze met yours instantly and he smiled, what he hoped was an easy, confident, maybe even reassuring smile, but you didn't look convinced. His chess partner had laughed at him, and shooed him away as soon as he figured out where the boy's true attention lay. 

Sheepishly Jimin bowed to the man and removed himself from play, defeated. It didn't take the man long to find himself a new victim to play against. Sheepishly Jimin bowed to the man and removed himself from play, defeated. It didn't take the man long to find himself a new victim to play against. 

You'd seemed a little unsure of yourself, wanting to introduce yourself but obviously overwhelmed. The same way Jimin had felt when he first arrived. The shelter was a large facility, filled with all manner of people from different walks of life, predators and prey alike. He watched you try to introduce yourself to a few people and quickly retreat, shaking your head and muttering to yourself each time. There was a rule in place that if you needed help you should ask for it, otherwise the volunteers would let you settle in on your own terms... but Jimin really couldn't help himself.

He allowed you to try twice more, but you were picking the wrong people. He cringed as you were brushed off by the reclusive and nervous prey and ignored by some of the more brash predators. He couldn't allow the truly defeated look to stay on your face. He glanced around the room trying to find a friendly face to introduce you to or maybe even send your way so he wasn't directly involved, but today didn't seem like it was going in your favour. The room was mostly filled with newer residents that were yet to find their own feet, probably lovely people, but of no use to him at this moment.

He crossed the room to you and interrupted your next attempt before it even had a chance to fail. At least it seemed you weren't disheartened easily. 

"Can I take you for lunch? Show you the area?" He asked brightly.

"What makes you think I don't know the area?" You responded defensively.

"Sorry I didn't mean to assume, just most people here are from out of town..."

Jimin scratches the back of his neck, not quite expecting the icy tone in your voice. Maybe that's the real reason you were struggling to make friends. He starts to rethink his plan when you soften. 

"I grew up here... I've just had some changes lately that have left me... displaced" Your answer was careful, not letting on to your past, not yet.

"Well then, where do you like to go for lunch? Maybe we could go there and you could show me around? I haven't explored as much as I'd like to have done in the last few years" 

He offers you his arm but you must not have noticed. Instead, you walk ahead of him expecting him to follow along obediently. 

You leave the shelter and turn left, heading for a ramen bar about a half mile away, a choice Jimin is thankful for given how cheap the options were. It takes a little while for the conversation to flow. Jimin found it terribly awkward to get any conversation out of you, even light small talk seemed difficult for you. Not that you weren't making an obvious effort, more like you didn't know how to reciprocate appropriately when asking questions, and you clearly weren't ready to share about yourself yet.

Jimin was never one to shy away from a challenge though. He stopped trying to lead you into questions, instead focusing on his own life. Revelling in each laugh that slipped past your lips as he relayed the antics of his packmates, not missing the wistful look in your eyes. He tried not to dwell on the moments that made you shy away. 

The walk back to the shelter was spent in an almost comfortable silence. The threat of another question was always on the tip of Jimin's tongue as he tried not to overwhelm you more than he already had. As the shelter came into view your pace slowed, dragging your feet against the pavement as if you didn't want to return. Jimin almost asked you why, but you beat him to it.

"It's strange... such a busy place shouldn't feel so lonely should it?" You asked, glancing sideways at him. 

"I don't think you'll stay lonely," Jimin responds optimistically.

"I'm not sure I've ever not been lonely…." You muse more to yourself than to him. 

It's the first real bit of information you've given him, outside of your name and he takes a moment to digest it, not really sure how to answer that. One thing Jimin had never felt was true loneliness. He liked being alone sometimes, but there had always been someone there when he needed them. 

"I hope I can help you feel a little less alone." He stops looking at you properly to try to convey the sincerity of his words.

You just nod wordlessly and kick at a pebble on the ground. He reaches out to move some hair away from your face, hand lingering a little longer than it maybe should've done. You just looked so sweet, a defeated look in your eyes similar to the one Jungkook had had when they met. A look he desperately wanted to make go away. Briefly, you loiter in the touch before your expression becomes stoic and you continue with the walk back to the shelter. 

"Thank you for lunch." You say and then head back into the rooms at the back of the building. 

Jimin watches until you are through the door, his heart aching as your figure disappears. He has always found himself getting a little too invested in people too quickly, he couldn't help it, and it seemed you'd be no different. He spent the rest of his shift thinking of things he could do to cheer you up. Every time the door opened he looked up trying to catch a glimpse of you again before he had to leave for the day. 

Unfortunately, it wasn't meant to be, the clock finally struck 5 and Jimin had to make it home for dinner. 

__________________________

"Right... So what point of that day makes you think she is the love of your life exactly?" Yoongi raised his eyebrow in bemusement. 

It wasn't exactly a whirlwind romantic story like they'd each been expecting. If anything it sounded like she had shown no interest in Jimin in the slightest. 

"I'm sure what Yoongi means, is that it seems like you've not really had the opportunity to get to know her yet Chim." Namjoon softens the delivery.

Jimin still pouts, a little deterred by their reaction to the first day of the rest of his life, they just didn't get it, they hadn't met you. 

"I know I don't know her properly yet, but I will. There's something about her. It feels like I did when I first met Kookie." Jimin assures them. "You'll meet her and you'll get exactly what I mean!" 

Jungkook frowns at that, his and Jimin's relationship is one of a kind and he wasn't going to take a comment like that lightly. He nips at Jimin's fingers when the older man reaches to pet his ears. Keen to defuse the sudden tension in air Yoongi unburies himself from the pile and makes an excuse about needing to make dinner. The jackal drags the young bunny up with him to help. 

"If you feel so strongly Jimin, maybe you should spend some more time with her and see where it leads." Namjoon pulls Jimin closer and nuzzles into his neck leaving little kisses. "Just don't forget where home is in the process." 

"I want you to meet her Hyung." 

"And we will, but maybe not right away?"

"No, you need to meet her, soon. Come with me to work tomorrow, pretty please." Jimin's eyes are wide and hopeful, something he knows Namjoon would never say no to, and he doesn't.

So the next day each of them get up and ready to follow Jimin to work at the shelter.

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Disclaimer: Jin, Hobi, and Tae will not be appearing in the first few chapters of this fic. The original packmates are Namjoon, Yoongi, Jimin, and Jungkook, in that order. Originally this fic was supposed to be a tiny OT4 drabble for kinktober so that's why...

Chapter 2 will be released next Sunday and so forth until the fic is finished!

Hope you enjoy it :)

[anthonypeawashere]

We force their prices down under the threat of murder and re-animation. Imagine just how horrible that really is - being torn apart alive, just to (unwillingly) be 'cured' back into a form capable of trading. And your protectors, the golems? Their villager friends are forced to build them under slave-like conditions, so that we can remelt them into usable iron. Villagers live in sustainable, small communities all until WE come into the picture with our swords and industrial machinery.

But the bitter, awful truth? The villagers are evil beings too. They have banished thousands of their own, hence the pillager/evoker/vindicator/witches (less sure about the witches, as they are shown to live alone). These people are forced to gather together, creating huge mansions where they practice the occult an an attempt to get on decent terms with otherwise hostile mobs. Ever thought about why woodland mansions are so rare, yet villages so common? The woodland mansions also contain many... shall we say, observations, about the world. The inhabitants are men of science and knowledge, pursuing magic and truth. They may be evil, but they are the closest thing to the player in game. And they are only evil because of the villagers. At the end of the day, the Player will annihalate mansions and enslave villagers (sometimes even enslaving vindicators for fun, as they arent very useful for work). The vindicators (and gang) know this. They know of the Player's evil. That's why they are hostile, and why pillager patrols will lock eyes with the player even if they are far enough away that the Player is not a threat (no other hostile mob will look at the player without taking some action like attacking, fleeing, or whatever).

So why do we view Illigers, who keep to themselves in their faraway mansions deep in forests, as evil, while villagers, who have doomed them to this fate and refute all technological progress past mastering their own limited trade, are considered good?

It's simple. The villigers are useful to us. They give us things that we want. That's why we 'protect' them, so that they can make us more powerful. Ever noticed how a raid can only ever happen if YOU enter a village with a bad omen? Neither pillagers nor illigers want to harm the villages themselves. They are trying, in desperation, to halt the Players progress and save themselves. That's why if you leave the raid and come back, they will just have killed everyone, then gone home.

Actually, thinking it over, a big part of what the evokers search for is eternal life, right? They create vexes out of thin air but they can't make them last. Maybe that's why they imprison allays, to study them. Anyways, they have somewhat succeeded? They have totems that can reverse death, but they can't seem to use them (given that they die as normal and instead drop the totem on the ground). But the player can. The player can still die, but he (btw i'm calling the player a he cuz the default skin in Steve) respawns. And his progress remains. For some reason, the Player is beyond death itself. And interestingly, Zombies and Skeletons always look like players (zombies do occasionally spawn as villagers, but rarely). Even the dead version of players still walk around, their flesh rotting and resporatory system unable to breathe without creating a hissing sound. They are also capable, in theory, to equip any item, if it's put into their hands. The same goes for armor. Even skeletons, beings that have no flesh living tissue, walk around. They are able to use a bow, and are scarily fast when they aren't aiming. The player is so far beyond death that even his own decaying or decayed bodies roam around and interact with the world around them.

Absolutely hate it when minecraft stories portray villagers as stupid/inferior to the player/s 👎👎👎👎👎 Big thumbs down👎

[nooneeverlookedforagirl]

AU where Drogo does not kill Viserys.

Jhiqui runs to him when Viserys drags Doreah to their tent by her hair. She says the foreigner is mad with anger and she fears for the khaleesi. He walks in just in time to see him slap Daenerys so hard she falls to the floor. Daenerys, the girl Viserys gifted him. Daenerys, his wife. Daenerys, the moon of his life. Daenerys with their son in her belly.

Whatever Viserys might have done or said after hitting her was nothing. His fierce little wife strikes him so hard across the face with a golden chain that it leaves a mark. He falls to the side just as Drogo reaches them, and he picks Viserys up by the throat with one hand.

Drogo might have killed him then and there, but his wife begs for his life. He is her brother, her only family, she says, in broken Dothraki. Perhaps he does not understand all the words, but he understands enough. Send him away, Daenerys pleads, but do not kill him.

It might have been better if he had. Viserys follows them on foot for many days. On their first encounter with another khalasar, just outside Vaes Dothrak, Drogo gifts him to the other khal. The Andal tells his wife, he knows, but she says nothing to him and if she is angry it does not show.

Then Drogo falls from his horse on the Dothraki Sea, and Daenerys is reborn in fire and blood. One of their children she names Viserion, for her brother.

When Daenerys burns the khals one of their riders brings her a gift. It's Viserys, filthy and despondent, but alive. Neither knows what quite to do with the other, the beggar king and the dragon queen. Still, for the blood they share, Daenerys gives him a simple tent and male servants and a single horse, and he rides with her when they leave.

He rides with her all the way to Meereen, for when she finds Drogon on the Great Grass Sea she tames him with nothing except a whip, her khalasar in awe as she lands him in their midst. She looks at Viserys, and he at her, and then she pulls him onto Drogon's scales and together the last dragons fly toward the besieged city.

Daenerys keeps looking at him like she expects a fit, like she expects him to demand what is rightfully his, from a crown or a Targaryen bride to rooms suitable for the queen's brother. He does none of that. When the city has calmed and the slavers have died, he goes to her in her counsel room and kneels before her, taking her hands in his.

"I'm sorry." Viserys says, looking up into her eyes. "I was a poor brother and a worse king. I hurt you, I thought only of myself, I sold you into slavery. I was young and afraid and desperate, but I should have protected you. All we had was each other."

This Mother of Dragons, this Breaker of Chains, she is above all a rescuer. Daenerys drowned the slaver cities in blood rather than leave strangers to their chains, she can scarcely abandon her own brother. Instead she drops to her knees beside him on the floor and tells him of all that has happened since they parted.

When she is done, Viserys says, "I cannot be the king. You must go on in my stead."

"The throne is yours by right." Dany replies.

Viserys pauses, then admits, "I can father no children, Dany. You are the last of our house. You hatched dragons and conquered cities. You must be the queen."

"The maegi said-"

"That you would go to the Dosh Khaleen and become one of them. Or that you would die on Drogo's funeral pyre." Her brother touches her face with a gentleness she has never felt from him before. "A witch who murdered your son and husband is not a reliable source of information, Dany."

"If one of us has a child, then they must take the throne," she insists, "I am the blood of the dragon and for that I ruled, but Viserys I only want peace. The little house with the lemon trees and the red door. Peace."

"Let us rule together, then. As brother and sister," Viserys tells her, "We are the last of our blood and we only have each other."

Then they return to Westeros, where Cersei and the White Walkers await them. The dragons do not allow Viserys to ride, but they seem to like him. Brother and sister, Viserys rides behind Dany on Drogon's back, the last dragons the five of them.

"You are not here to be queen of the ashes," Tyrion tells her.

"Nonsense," Viserys scoffs, "You've lived through a starving Kings Landing, Lord Tyrion. It's said they ripped people apart and ate them still living in front of your eyes."

Drogon burns the Red Keep to the ground with its inhabitants inside but saves thousands from starvation and wildfire. The siblings find Cersei dead on the throne, having poisoned herself, and Tyrion weeps over her. Daenerys returns her body to the Rock, for his sake, and names Olenna Tyrell their Hand.

"With the queen's permission I'll go north and take one," Jorah Mormont offers.

"None of our men are going beyond the Wall. This is all ridiculous. You, the "King in the North" are going to personally go to the most dangerous place in the world for the sake of Jaime Lannister and his men?" Viserys touches his sister's shoulder gently. "You can never trust a Lannister," he tells her, Tyrion looking more uncomfortable by the second, "when Tywin Lannister swore to our father that he would fight for him, he sacked the city and murdered Rhaegar's family. Rhaenys, all of three. Aegon, the rightful king. Elia of Dorne. Jaime Lannister himself broke his sworn oath to our father. Do not trust them. Do not."

Jon Snow goes without Jorah Mormont, and of all the men that step beyond the Wall only he makes it back, bloody and battered, barely alive. Those that had gone with him had traded their lives for his, and had died for nothing. Jon has his wight. Jaime Lannister does not stir from the Rock. Perhaps he swears not to attack them, but he did not have the strength to fight in the field anyway.

"You will rule wisely and well, while she-" Varys begins, but Jon cuts him off.

"If you want another ruler, go and speak to Viserys."

And Varys has, but whatever happened to him in Essos has made it so that he will hear not a word of it. What Varys did say he expects made it back to Daenerys. "Viserys is his father's son, just so, and Rhaegar's son comes before his brother."

Varys will burn that night, when Viserys and Jon both swear that he is a traitor. Viserys would burn Jon too, but Dany refuses him. Burning the North's chosen ruler will do little to make them love her, she says. I love him, she does not, but he hears anyway.

Viserys has seen Jon's eyes. He is a Targaryen, that one, not a Stark, not like his beloved Ned. He takes to wearing full armor, even on Dragonstone, and warns Grey Worm as well. They come to an understanding, if an uncertain one, for Grey Worm has lost Missandei and he will not lose her as well.

As the Red Keep is rebuilt, Dany goes to walk among the ruins. Sometimes she goes up to the Iron Throne, although that room has not been started yet, just to be alone and think. She takes no guards but her children. In the throne room, she welcomes Jon to her, angry or not. They argue.

Casterly Rock has burned, and Viserys is looking for his sister. He finds her usual guard in the hall, and asks where she is. "The throne room," they say, "Jon Snow is with her."

He starts to run. Alarmed, the Unsullied follow him. She had commanded to be left alone, but Jon Snow is one of her generals, one of her trusted allies. The queen has been alone with him before, in more intimate places, and

"You are my queen." Jon says, and she lets him embrace her. There is a blade in his belt, one that almost killed his brother. He reaches for it.

Yet Viserys is not fast enough. He is only a man, but Drogon is not. While he is not Viserys' in the way he is Daenerys', he still feels his fear, still knows it's for his mother. With a flap of his great wings he shakes the snow away and soars up to the ruined keep.

Viserys bursts into the throne room steps ahead of the guards to find Daenerys naked and on her knees, weeping over the corpse of her lover, half-burned away along with her clothes. He still holds the blade he would have killed her with.

Removing his cloak, he drapes it over her instead, hiding both her nakedness and the swell of her stomach as she cries. Viserys pulls her away from the body, turning her face into his shoulder. His mother was careful, so careful, to shelter him from the worst of his father's atrocities, but this is not the first time he has smelled burning flesh. It's all he can do to mummer in High Valyrian to his sister, trying to calm her.

"You were right." Are her first words. "I should never have trusted him. You were right."

Above them is Drogon, the son she bore from Khal Drogo's pyre. Because of her they sit in the halls their ancestors built and call themselves king and queen. Three cities yet stand in Essos, their slaves free for the first time in thousands upon thousands of years. All her doing.

Viserys accepted a long time ago that he was never going to take back the Seven Kingdoms. He was never going to go home. Yet here he stands, all because of his little sister. Viserys had wanted his father's throne; Daenerys envisioned a new world. Jon Snow is but dush and ash.

"No," he presses a kiss to her forehead, and tries to wipe away the tears. "You're a conqueror, Dany, you're a queen. He chose the old world, and you will craft a new one."

[inkribbon796]

Six [Ate] Ain’t Seven Ch. 1: Desperate Times Call for Desperate Measures

Summary: The anomaly demands resolution, and it will not be denied.

A/N: No story has fought me like this one. Even the Time Warp with its multiple timeline garbage didn’t fight me like this one did. This one was supposed to come out in September of LAST YEAR.

Me: No Host, we are doing this, this thread has to be tied up.

Host: But consider making all the apprentices toddlers for a day, instead of writing this?

Me: . . . *thinks about toddler Ranboo and writes that down* . . . that’s a really good idea but we’re strapped for time with this arc and we’re still doing this.

Host: It was worth a shot.

Chapters: 1, 2

It happened infrequently, a tear in the fabric of reality would appear somewhere in Egoton, and the Host would race to correct it before it spread and began destroying things.

The important part was keeping the tear away from the anomaly. It would cause even more problems for the Host, only these problems would only be more obvious to everyone else. And the Host was desperate to keep Dark from noticing the tear. It would ruin everything.

So, the Host wanted to fix the error in the story he was safeguarding, and so he brought himself to the Sides’ home one morning. His arrival timed perfectly.

The Host used his narrations and aura to ring the doorbell.

It took a minute or two for the door to open and to his great fortune, Patton was the one to open the door. He was overly cheery, the epitome of a morning person.

“Oh, Host,” Patton recognized in surprise, glancing around to see if anyone was out and about in the morning. “Come on in.”

“The Host merely wanted to bring something to Morality’s attention,” the Host told him. “If he could meet the Host outside of Dark’s warehouses, but not directly in the parking lots, the Host would greatly appreciate it.”

“O-Okay,” Patton looked back nervously into the hallway of his home.

“Is everything alright?” Logan called from the kitchen.

“Yeah, it’s just Host,” Patton called back. Then he turned back to the Host. “I’ll just get the guys and we’ll—”

“The Host would prefer if just Morality accompanied him,” the Host corrected. “Time is of the essence and discretion is necessary. The Entity will be none the wise of Morality’s proximity, the Host can ensure his safety from the demon.”

“Oh,” Patton became more uneasy. “I guess . . . yeah . . . just let me suit up and I’ll meet you there.”

“The Host thanks Morality for this, the Host will explain what he can once they are in position,” the Host nodded. “He will also ensure none of the Sides’ neighbors remember seeing the Host.”

And with that the Host disappeared in a flurry of his narrations, his eyes bleeding as he reappeared outside the Entity’s warehouses. The tear insistent on receiving the demon’s attention, but Host used all his power to keep it from doing so.

Patton took some time to reach the rendezvous point, in full costume, but he was alone as the seer had asked. The Host knew that Logan and Virgil were in their own superhero uniforms, not too far away from out of sight from both of them. It was not ideal, but it was the best the Host could ask for.

“The Host thanks Morality for his assistance, he has tried to fix matter on his own, but he has proven unsuccessful,” the Host began before reaching out with his aura and muffling Patton’s communicator before yanking the two of them into the tear in reality as it fluttered again.

Patton gasped as he felt his body trying to alter and change but something held that force back. Everything around the Host and Patton was white and time stopped.

Patton wasn’t sure how long time passed between being pulled into the tear and when he blinked his eyes opened. He thought it was only a second but somehow it seemed impossibly longer.

He was also no longer wearing his superhero costume, but was in a grey and beige three piece suit with a blue dress shirt. His head felt fuzzy, a torrent of memories that felt like his own and someone else’s mixed together in an uncomfortable slurry.

He gasped for air, realizing that he’d been holding his breath.

“The Host apologizes,” the Host said, his bat in hand, still looking like his normal self. “The Host would not have involved Morality if there was any other way.”

“Where are we?” Patton looked around at the white expanse and saw in the distance what looked like a castle, opulent and the color of bone. “Am I dead?”

“No, neither Morality, nor the Host have stopped existing, they have slipped into the In-between,” Host corrected. “Its residents are few and far between, the Host and Morality are simply using it to bridge the gap between realities and fix the Host’s mistakes.”

“What mistake?” Patton glanced around again, the castle seemed to be closer than the last time he’d looked at it.

The seer used his narrations to summon up a thick folder and dropped it right at Patton’s feet.

Immediately the contents spilled out to show it was full of legal documents, childhood drawings and pictures of the emotional Side growing up with a different family.

Patton knelt down to pick up a picture of him, probably ten or eleven, cuddled up next to an equally young Yancy under the shade of a tree. “What? What is this?”

“This is what remains of Patton Elijah Sanders,” the Host said. “Everything the Host could not get, he collected so that no one else could see it. Morality has been resisting the Host’s attempts to correct it further. The Host suspects it is because of sentimentality.”

“I don’t remember any of this, I’m one of Thomas’s Sides, I wasn’t raised with you.” Patton grabbed a picture and mentally paused. “Is this a picture of all of you in little cat onesies? Awww, how cute.”

“Yes, there is a matching picture, without Morality, in a scrap book that is in the Madman’s possession,” the Host answered. “More importantly, the Host made sure no one could remember this reality. He did everything he could to untangle those plot threads. But when the Host first closed the gap he was not as powerful as he is now. He was unsure how to do such a thing, as such there were cracks, seams left unglued. Morality is the only thing left to alter.”

“What happened though?” Patton tried to scoop the file back up, glancing back over to see the white castle was less than a football field away now.

“The Suits were not the first time the Host had used the anomaly to bend the laws of his reality to his whim.” The Host used his aura to help scoop the contents of the folder up and they disappeared into his aura with a few simple narrations. “The Host and Morality used the anomaly very early in the Host’s creation to protect their world. The Actor was too powerful and the Host was too new to protect his family or friends, so the Host and Patton ripped the anomaly from the Actor and used it to change everything. The Host kept altering things bit by bit, trying to buy the city more and more time until eventually they are at the state they are in now.”

“What—” Patton stalled in confusion. “How—”

“The Host could not have done this without Morality’s initial cooperation, but now the anomaly fights the Host’s efforts to completely close that reality. It cares not for its playthings, only for the plot and the joy and suffering that can be wrought from its inhabitants and the Host requests Morality’s assistance once more.”

“O-Okay,” Patton stood up. “I really don’t understand what’s going on, and I’m very confused on what I can do to help, but if it means helping people and saving them I’ll do what I can.”

“That is all the Host asks of Morality,” the Host smiled.

“So what do we do?” Patton looked to see that the castle was the length of two houses away now. “That castle’s getting closer, that’s a good thing, right?”

“No,” the Host answered. “The Host and Morality must locate the anomaly still in the old reality. It is located in Dark’s office because the Host would not have existed at the time to remove it from the Entity’s possession. Then they must leave the warehouses to return back to their own reality.”

“Alright,” Patton agreed. “But surely you don’t need me for that.”

“Morality’s emotional manipulation ability is key to this plan, he is essential for its success,” the Host corrected. “Should Dark arrive back at the warehouse while Morality and the Host are still there, it will be Morality’s job to help distract the Entity.”

“Really don’t like it when people refer to my superpower like that,” Patton cringed. “Makes me feel all icky.”

“Nevertheless, Morality and the Host have to be very careful,” the Host warned. “They can never give in to themselves in this branched reality or it will end in catastrophic failure for everyone. Lunky will cease to exist, and there will be no way to combat the Actor. Everyone will suffer.”

“Oh,” Patton’s eyes widened.

The castle grounds were almost brushing the side of their feet, causing Patton to look over at it in alarm, the Host used his narration to place a hand on Patton’s shoulder to redirect his attention.

The Host tried to smile for Patton’s comfort. “If Morality is ready, then the Host can take them in, the Entity is already removed from his office. They can be in and out in minutes. All they must do is stay quiet and not succumb to who they used to be. They go in, and the instant their feet are out of the warehouses’ parking lots, they are free.”

Patton nodded and the Host pushed them into the tear with his aura and the anomaly, the castle not able to touch them.

[tolkien-fics]

The Sleeping Princess

Word count: 1,801

Trigger warning: Mention of blood, violence

Pairing: Ecthelion x Human! Reader

 Plot: Based on the fairy-tale Sleeping Beauty. Y/n is a mortal princess in a far land south west of Middle Earth, cursed from birth to fall into a death-like sleep. 

Year YT. Long ago, before the Fellowship was formed, there was a kingdom in the South West of Middle Earth. This kingdom was ruled fairly by the King and Queen, who made sure to provide for their people. The Kingdom was known for their riches, possessing precious gems they would trade with Dwarves and Elves. The people of the kingdom were happy, and praised their royal family. 

After a five year reign, the King and Queen wished for a child. Not out of needing an heir, but out of love. However, they never received the gift they desperately wished for. It took three years of wishing before they finally got their little joy: Princess Y/n was born.

Overjoyed, the King and Queen instantly set out of inviting the entire kingdom to the celebration feast.

"Over here!" One servant called to the other as they decorated the Hall with cloths of all color, the cooks displayed their feast on a long table, the minstrels practicing their music. The joy of the castle could be felt from miles away. But there was an evil mage who lived in the forest just out of kingdom grounds, watching the events unfolding from her reflective pond. Laced with magic so she could spy on the kingdom's people.

"So, they think they can get away with not inviting me to the little brat's party? They won't get away with this!" She growled, cooking up a plan in her mind. Everyone had gathered in the palace to welcome the newborn into the world. The people were laughing, drinking and eating. All paused when the King stood to make a speech.

"Dear friends, we thank you for attending the celebration this day. We have wished for a child for so long, and now she is finally here. We cannot be more grateful than we already are. Now without further-ado-" There was a slam as the hall doors burst open, the guards scrambling to unsheathe their swords at the surprise visitor.

"I suppose I am not considered one of your friends, your majesty?" The mage spat bitterly, brows furrowed and hands placed on her hips. She was a simple mage, dressed in rags. Those who never heard of her would have mistaken her for being homeless, but to the kingdom folk she was a powerful witch, one not to be crossed.

"Oh Lithia! You're-!" The Queen was shocked, eyes wide and a hand placed on her chest.

"Alive? Of course I am! Though you would know that if you bothered to check in." The mage replied, hand waving dismissively in the air.

"We apologize, Lithia." The King started. "You haven't appeared for years! We merely thought you had left, or died! We did not mean to cause offense."

Lithia scoffed. "Enough! Let's see the new princess." The mage quickly moved to the basin in which you laid, wrapped in delicate silk. Lithia quickly picked you up, keeping you at arms length. 

"That's it! Put her down this instant!" The King commanded. "Guards!"

"Am I not allowed to give the princess my blessing?" Lithia questioned, not waiting for your parents response before beginning:

"Dear little princess, this is my blessing to you. Upon coming of age you will fall into a deep sleep, one that you will not wake from. Not even the powerful magic in the world will save you!"

Lithia cackled, roughly thrusting you into your mother's arms. She left the hall, the door slamming shut behind her. Everyone began to whisper among themselves, your mother began to cry sorrowfully. "Our daughter, our poor daughter." She sobbed while holding you close.

"Perhaps I can help." A voice spoke from the far side of the table. Instantly, the King and Queen looked up, hope in their eyes.

The voice belonged to a young elf maiden, one of the few that resided in the kingdom. She too knew magic, pure magic of good. 

"Oh, can you please help our daughter?" The queen asked, teary eyed as she clung to you.

"I cannot reverse the magic, your majesty." The elleth spoke. "But I can change the outcome. The princess will indeed fall into a deep sleep, but she will wake up. The mage forget the mention the greatest magic known. Love. The princess' one love will break the curse."

"Oh thank you!" The Queen expressed her gratitude. "You have given her the gift of life, another chance! I can only hope that it will be enough."

It had been twenty years since that day. You grew to be a fair princess, admired by all. Your beauty was breath-taking, and your heart was good to match.

"What a beautiful day it is." You mused as you strolled through the royal gardens, kneeling down to admire the small daises, picking some to make a flower crown. Your gentle hands weaved the stems together, humming a soft tune as you did.

You were soon distracted by a vibrant butterfly, fluttering past you and ahead.

"Such beauty." You admired, standing to follow the creature and abandoning the flower crown. You wished the catch another glimpse of the butterfly, jogging through the garden to catch up.

"Strange. I have not seen this part of the garden before." You thought aloud, seeing a whole flower bed of red roses. They were vibrant and alive with color, compared to some of the dying flowers you had seen.

"They smell good, too!" The lovely scent wafted to your nose from the light breeze that blew past. You reached a hand to pick one, a thorn breaking the skin of your finger and drawing blood. The red liquid dripped down your finger, droplets staining the luscious grass.

Looking at the blood, you began to feel faint. Your surroundings started to spin, making you feel unbalanced.

"I don't feel good." Was the last thing you spoke before your body hit the ground. The King and Queen were heartbroken as your body was delivered to your chambers and placed on your bed.

"How could we have overlooked the roses?" The Queen sobbed, covering her face with her hands. The King stiffled his own tears, "All we can do now is wait, my queen. Wait for her one true love, as the elleth predicted."

As their cries sounded, the kingdom was slowly pausing, the residents turning into stone for as long as it would take for their princess to awake.

Days turned into months, and months to years. The story of princess Y/n had spread far and wide, elves and men attempted to rescue you but none succeeded. Until one day, a handsome elf lord had arrived from Gondolin. Ecthelion of the fountain had heard of your story from his kin, and even though nobody had rescued you, he hoped he would be the one.

"What makes you think you will succeed?" He was told, but he shook their words off. He just knew.

He rode for exactly thirty days before reaching the kingdom. From the outside, it had lost it's charm it once had: the trees rotting, a musty, damp stench overtook the once glorious smells of baking, flowers and perfumes. As Ecthelion rode through the streets, he noticed that all life stopped. Everyone had become statues, paused at the moment they were working, buying, and chatting. Ecthelion shrugged his shoulders, trying to escape the terrible feeling that overcome him. It was a sort of uneasiness, he guessed. Despite this, he looked towards his elvish sword, knowing he was capable of protecting himself if necessary.

The elf lord gazed upon the castle as he arrived at the half open gates. He got off his steed, stroking the soft mane before arming himself with his sword, walking through the grounds. The corners were littered with cobwebs, the guards looking more like ornamental statues than the people they were. Ecthelion felt sadness at his surroundings: He had heard stories that the kingdom was once vibrant and joyous, a truly happy place to live. But now it had lost it's spark.

"Get him!" A terrible cry reached his ears. Instantly, the elf drew his sword, deflecting the attacks that came from a small group of orcs. Now, he didn't hear about this. They must have inhabited the place during it's time of silence. Ecthelion hit, stabbed, kicked and beheaded the orcs coming at him. His skin was damp with sweat, blood dripping from his nose after receiving a punch. He beheaded the last orc with a fierce yell, panting for breath.

Now on his guard, he made his way down corridors, hallways and up a flight of spiral stairs. When he reached the top, there was a single door at the end of the short corridor. He couldn't hear anything, no orc growls or sounds of footsteps. 

Ecthelion opened the door warily and entered, his breath taken away at the sight. He was in your chambers, and saw your figure laying on the bed, hands clasped together. You looked dead, but he saw you still had color in your cheeks. Though it was faint, he knew you was still alive somehow.

"You are beautiful." He whispered as he came to your bedside, his hand covering yours. He rubbed his thumb along your hand, feeling the coldness of your skin.

"I pray to Eru that you will wake up, and greet me with your glorious presence." Ecthelion bent down and pressed his lips to yours in a gentle, loving kiss. His eyes re-opened to see yours twitch, then open slowly.

"Oh dear. I must have fallen asleep." You spoke in a hoarse voice. "Please don't think of me as rude, sir. Who are you?"

Ecthelion smiled, helping you to sit up. "I have come to release you of your curse, princess. I heard of your story and knew in my heart I had to come. My name is Ecthelion, Lord of the Fountain."

The King smiled, as he too had awoken. Along with the rest of the kingdom. 

"You have saved us, Lord Ecthelion! However can we thank you?"

The elf lord smiled, eyes on you once more. "I wish to ask for your blessing to court your daughter, and one day make her my wife. For her beauty shines brighter than the stars." 

You was taken aback, a blush dusting your cheeks. You smiled gently, covering his hands with your own. "Oh Lord Ecthelion, my beauty could never compare to your own."

The King chuckled, "You may, indeed! You have deemed yourself brave and worthy enough to court my daughter. For saving us, we will forever be thankful." Ecthelion gazed into your eyes once more, full of love and kindness. He bent down to kiss you once more, making a promise to himself that he would always be there for you, no matter what.

[rideboldlyride]

Zutara Week Day 3- Fuse

Seal My Heart and Break My Pride <— the AO3 link

Here’s some fun... It’s not going to last, I promise.

***

It’s as she orders the second drink, while idly talking with Teo, and now Jin, that it occurs to her. He was about to play. That was obvious. Toph had mentioned that the musicians that had been playing when they entered still had at least one more set. While she and Zuko had been discussing the philosophical choices of certain whiskeys, there had been no live music. 

As the drummer - now identified as Jin’s boyfriend, Haru - spoke once more into his mic, she watched closely as Zuko sat at the forefront, quiet, reserved, but very obviously the main guitarist and singer. Maybe, she thought, though the thought thrilled her, maybe she had missed the other set while they had been talking. Maybe he was not the main singer of one of her favorite bands.

Then the first few notes danced across the air, and Katara could not prevent the laugh that escaped her. Eyes still glinting, she turned and spotted her friends across the room. Toph’s grin was wide, and Sokka was bemoaning his fate, as he dug out a five-note. Meeting a laughing Suki’s eye, she extended her slender middle finger, raising it clearly for them to see. Suki only laughed harder, before turning to Toph to explain her motion.

Katara decided to ignore them, only as they deserved, and turned back to the musician with the husky voice, sipping happily at her drink. 

***

It was easy to spot her in the crowd. It was more difficult to not stare. There was something to her that moved in the light, and the warmth in his chest grew. She moved and swayed to the sound of the music, but hovered still by the bar. In one moment, he could swear he saw her lips mouth his words. She… knew his music? 

He desperately reached for the bourbon as the song ended, swallowing it in one shot with a wince. Gesturing to Jin, who was now chatting up Katara, he requested a refill. He was going to need every bit of liquid courage at this rate.

***

The set was over, and the members of the band thanked the crowd before beginning their breakdown. Long past midnight, the crowd had begun to disperse. Zuko moved to where he had last seen Katara, his guitar now in its case across his back. Dread knotted in his belly, however, when he neared the bar, and found her nowhere. The look of dejection in his eyes must have brought pity to Teo, for he caught the scarred man’s gaze and pointed him towards the table that Toph and her new friends had filled. As he neared, though, he slowed, his eyes suddenly drawn to a motion near the table.

Like a pygmy puma, they stalked the table, it’s inhabitants unaware of the deadly amber eyes staring them down like prey. Instantly, he knew his appearance would only exacerbate the situation, and instead Zuko chose to hang back, a silent sentinel in case he was called upon.

“Well, well. The Beifong’s have officially stopped trying with you, haven’t they, Toph?”

“Oh look!” The blind girl was full of false enthusiasm. “It’s Azzy!” 

She exaggerated the ‘z’s, drawing them into softer sounds. Suki snorted. 

Suddenly getting serious, Toph’s face fell flat. “Get lost. And take your fan club with you.”

The two girls bracketing her - Zuko knew Ty Lee and Mai well - shared a glance, before following the prompts of the leader. Azula refused to be sent away.

“Wait.” Katara’s voice. He couldn’t see her face, but there was an edge he had only heard once from her. Narcissistic asshole floated unheard in his brain, and the alcohol-addlement convoluted the moment, but her voice brought him back. “Azula, has it really been so long?”

The puma eyes turned to the source of the voice, finding a new target. Zuko felt his heart sink. He knew what it was to be in front of her. At 31, he still walked on eggshells around her- when they rarely talked. 

“Oh, look, girls! It’s the Fish!”

Azula… knew Katara?

“Don’t you have better things to do? I thought you were supposed to be running your daddy’s company.”

“Well, there’s no crime in finding a little fun.” Her words, exaggerated by a hip cock in her skin tight minidress left little imagination as to the kind of fun she was looking for. Scanning over the table, her eyes fell on Sokka. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

There was a purr in her words, and both Suki and Katara met her with a growl. 

Feigning surprise, she reached for her chest, hands clasped. “Oh! I just assumed that since Suki was open to dating him after what happened with Yue, she would be okay if I lined myself up next for his attention.”

Suki was out of her chair, moving straight for the younger woman, before being intercepted by Katara. A dark hand laid flat on her friend’s sternum, solid. A look passed between them, and Suki sagged. The smaller woman turned back to Azula. 

“What do you want, leech?”

“Leech?” Eyes flashed, and she bared her teeth at the biologist. “How dare you?!”

“Leech. One who sucks off of others to survive. Let’s see… Your daddy’s money and influence, thank goodness, have kept you from having to work a day in your life--”

“--Unlike your uneducated simpleton of a fa--”

“-- I wasn’t done.” Katara spoke over her, voice like iron. Zuko couldn’t prevent the smirk that pulled at his lips. Earlier he had viewed her as the sea, fluid, rolling. Now… Now she was a tempest, and she controlled it from the eye, with a cold clarity. “You suck off of others to feel what it means to live, trying to leave them as husks. You and your father. I feel for the rest of  your family.”

The final jab was all it took. Azula sneered at her, eyes growing feral. “What would you know, Fish?! All you’ve known is a father that’s a failure, and a mother who couldn’t get out of poverty enough to save her own life.”

If he had viewed her as a tempest before, he couldn’t quantify the damage she could deal upon Azula in that moment. He knew nothing of Katara- of Sokka - of their family. But in a glance he knew two very important things. 

One, Azula knew where to swing for the most pain and knew about their lives. Were they old schoolmates? It was about the only thing he could figure for them to cross paths. 

And two: One did not talk bad about Sokka and Katara’s family. Ever.

Katara turned, and her eyes instantly locked on her brother’s face. In response to whatever she saw there, he watched her expression grow stony. In a flash, she turned and planted a closed fist punch to the side of Azula’s cheek. 

A roar escaped his sister, and Katara turned back towards the table in time to see Sokka nod, hear Toph crow, and Aang groan. She glanced up and met Zuko’s eye as he hovered behind Aang’s shoulder, a bemused expression on his face.

***

There was something in his look, her foggy brain tried to tell her, but she was too busy trying to get it to tell her what to do next. The alcohol had made it a challenge to think clearly, but it did give her a moment of clarity, as she felt the pain shoot up her arm. In her periphery, she watched Azula’s minions haul her up and back. She thought there was a whisper of an apology from someone who sounded like Ty Lee, but when she turned back, the young woman was helping Azula move away. The pain flared again. Katara unclenched and clenched her hand, experimentally. No bones broken, she could tell, but it was going to smart for the rest of the week.

“Ya know,” she drawled out, “they say not to hit with a closed fist--”

Suki interrupted. “‘They’ being your sifu?”

“- Yes. But spirits, there are times where it just feels so damn good.”

Zuko moved up to the table. 

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I guarantee she’s calling the cops now.”

They followed his extended arm to where Azula sat, cellphone to her ear, proclaiming her indignance. 

“If you don’t want to have to deal with that tonight, it might be good to get out of here.”

Nodding, the group quickly snagged Jin, asking to settle their tabs in the morning, which she readily agreed to. They had seen the showdown.

Sokka turned to Katara and Toph. “Suki is my DD tonight. Are you guys good to drive?”

Toph laughed heartily. Katara weakly shook her head. 

“One too many whiskeys, I’m afraid.”

“Alright,” Sokka began to make some mental gymnastics. “I can take one more in the truck. We can snag Toph. Aang, how about--”

“I took the bus.” His voice was apologetic, but Zuko stepped up.

“I don’t know how far away you live, Katara, but I can walk you?”

Something sparkled in her eyes, and she smiled. “Not too far. You had too much too?”

“Yeah, but I walked here.”

“Well, it’s not safe for a single man to walk home alone.” Mischievousness. That’s what sparkled in her eyes, he determined. Zuko liked it. “All sorts of unseemly folks about at this time of night.”

“I’d be grateful for your protection, then.” He dipped into an overly formal bow, his own eyes glinting back at her. The liquid courage was finally setting into his bones. 

He could hear Sokka snort. “Alright, then just be careful. Let me know when you get home, Katuh.”

A smirk pulled at her lips, as she moved to grab Zuko’s proffered elbow. “Yes, Mom.”

The sound of sirens sent both groups scrambling, but Teo waved to Zuko and Katara emphatically. With a set of gestures, he indicated a back door, to which the pair rapidly moved towards. Emerging on to the back alley, they spotted the flash of lights, hand now in hand, before turning and fleeing the opposite direction.

Many turns, twists and last minute feints, they found themselves completely lost. Oddly enough, this was humorous to them.

“Do- do you know where we are?” She pants. 

“Not a clue.” The laugh dances in his words.

“If I can just find a street sign…”

The buzz is still in his fingertips, his lips, his ears. Instead of letting her pull him out into the streetlight, trying to reorient them, he tugs her gently back. A smile pulled at her lips as she turned back to him. 

“What?”

“Tonight was fun.”

“Yeah, yeah it was.”

He had stopped tugging her back, but she continued moving steadily towards him. 

“You liked my music?”

“Your music? You wrote it?”

He nodded meekly.

“I’ve heard it many times- and yes, I really like it.”

A humm escaped his lips. Suddenly, she was in front of him, mere inches parting them, and they both paused before the other. Her mouth worked silently for a moment, before closing. His curiosity got the better of him.

“What?”

A blush touched her cheeks, enough that he could see it even in the dark.

“Nothing, nothing-- I just- I’m not a groupie.”

His laugh peeled around the empty street they found themselves on. 

“I can tell!”

A half-hearted swat at his shoulder, and she pouted. 

“With an attitude like that, you won’t get any, either!”

His laugh grew even louder.

“Fine!” Turning around, she moved away, but he wasn’t about to let that moment pass. 

A hand slipped out, snagging her elbow and turning her back to him, and her tipsy state toppled her into his chest, and forcing his back against a wall. His laugh faded, now a soft chuckle in his chest. She could feel it under her hands, the only thing now between them. As it faded, a closed hand rose to her face, his thumb gently caressing the swell of her cheek. While the mirth stayed dancing behind his eyes, he stilled, and she leaned into his touch, her own eyes fluttering closed against it. Slowly, glacially slow to Katara, his fingers curled under her chin, gently angling her lips towards him. His warm breath, laced with rich spices and bourbon, washed over her, and she sighed, finally melting against him. 

It was a tentative kiss, light and gentle, a mere brushing over hers, as if asking a simple question. A shiver slid down her spine, and a tingle ran to her fingers and toes. He pulled back slightly. When he whispered her name, she could feel his lips form the word. Damn, he was good at this, and all restraint crashed down around her. She closed the gap, but she wasn’t looking for something gentle anymore. The hunger was voracious, and she let it bleed into the kiss. Finger tips in hair, pressure at her hips, caresses up her spine, she was coming undone. But as quickly as the tide rose, it broke. Pulling back, he rested his forehead against hers. 

“I know where we are.” Her words broke his reverie. The chuckle started in his belly.

“Then lead the way.”

*** 

Stumbling, staggering, they made their way towards her apartment. And if someone had seen them stop between streetlights to fan the sparks into flames, they said nothing, and merely shuffled out of their way. Finally, she slipped her key into the lock of her apartment door, Zuko’s arms around her waist, his nose buried into the crook of her neck, where he continued to distract her with small kisses on the open skin. Katara spun in his arms, a smile giddily at her lips. As he raised his eyes to meet hers, she felt she could swim in lava in that moment, and it would feel cool. The wave rose again, and she ran her hands into his short hair, reveling in the tingling feeling it gave to her fingers, as he leaned in to meet her lips. 

But it wasn’t to be a long kiss, so she broke away as smoothly as a few whiskeys on an empty stomach afforded her. With a hand behind her back, she opened the door, stepping back into her doorway. She could feel his desire to keep ahold of her, but he let her slip from his hands. As soon as she was away from him, he leaned a hand against her door frame, looking down at her as she peered at him, her door now slotted between them.

“Thank you for walking me home, Zuko.”

He hummed again, a giddy smile on his face. It took all of her willpower not to jump right back into his arms. 

“So, I’ll see you soon.” A smile was still plastered on her slightly swollen lips. “Right?”

“Definitely.”

“Will you be okay getting home?’

“Mmhmm.”

“Well,” she leaned forward a little, stopping just shy of his lips, “you better go, then.”

His eyes fluttered closed, and she allowed herself a self-satisfied smile. Katara was just as capable of leaving him speechless as he did her. On a whim, she suddenly pulled away, stepping inside her apartment just enough to grab a pen. 

“I’m sure this is so very mature…” she murmured, but even to herself, the words held no strength. Stepping back around the door, she twisted to the arm propped against the door jam, jotting out a number on the soft part of his forearm. Her smile was solidly planted on her face. Tapping where she had written it, blue eyes drilled into his. Evidently seeing what she was looking for, she nodded and stepped in one more time. 

“Goodnight, Zuko.” 

Her lips hovered close to his, but as he went to lean in, she stepped away, playfully smirking. She slid behind the door and closed it before he could respond. The perpetual chuckle that tried to escape him all evening rose once more, and he quietly answered to her door. 

“Goodnight, Katara.”

On the other side, the woman sat propped against the cold wood, trying to soothe her staccato of breath. His words were faint, but she made them out, along with the steady step away, as he left. 

This evening had been one of the most unrestrained moments in her life, full of snap decisions, good surprises and gold. No, not gold, she decided. Amber, warm honey-- those were better descriptors. Tui and La, she was stricken and she knew it. It would be a while before she could finally sleep, but she made certain to text Sokka the bare minimum (“Home.”) and deal with the aftermath of his cascade of questions in the morning.

*** 

Zuko collapsed onto his bed, flicking his shoes off, but caring about nothing else. His mind swam with the waters of all the world. And yet, it wasn't cold and wet that settled in his chest. It was a flame. Raising his arm, he spotted the faint lines in the dark on his forearm. 

The spark had been made. He just hoped that she would be able to keep it under control enough that he wouldn’t be consumed.

***

Ok, being honest, I’m really nervous about this one. I hate “creating” drama, but I really wanted to establish the Azula and Katara relationship early on, since this is going to reemerge later. Also- I really wanted Toph to call Azula “Azzy” (pronounced “Assy” of course)

I’m posting this on the fly before work, so I’ll be back on here with an edit for AO3 on my break.

@zutaraweek

[precuredaily]

Precure Day 197

Episode: Yes! Precure 5 48 - “Hope VS Despair: The Final Showdown!” Date watched: 16 June 2020 Original air date: 20 January 2008 Screenshots: https://imgur.com/a/nfV2ySD Transformation Gallery: https://imgur.com/a/6k6SzS0 Project info and master list of posts: http://tinyurl.com/PCDabout

Fly, my monkeys!

When we left off, the girls were fighting Kawarino in the Nightmare Colosseum. He tossed the girls around in a show of strength, and he managed to manipulate Milk into despair so he could place a Nightmare mask on her. Despariah used the Dream Collet to restore her youth, rendering it useless. Nightmare hasn’t completely won yet, but they’re damn close to it. How will our girls get out of this?

The Plot

As Despariah revels in her new eternal youth, Kawarino taunts the Precures that all hope is lost for them, and all that’s left is despair. They’re beaten, battered, and bruised, but nonetheless, Dream finds the energy to stand up and declare that she will never despair, and she lunges at Kawarino. However, he knocks her back into the ground, and then throws around the other cures, until they’re all collapsed on the ground, barely able to move. Notably, a bead bracelet lands beside Rouge.

He mocks the Precures and points out that even if they somehow beat the odds and manage to defeat him, they still have no way to restore the Palmier Kingdom, so they’re fighting for nothing. Throughout all of this, Coco and Nuts can’t do much but watch, and through tears they thank the girls for everything they’ve done to help them so far. Then they turn and face Kawarino themselves, but he blows them away with minimal effort while smirking. He pulls out five pieces of the black paper and throws them at the girls, where they land on the ground and quickly expand to encompass them. He explains that this is the Darkness of Despair, which picks up on people’s hopelessness and traps them forever. It surrounds Rouge, Lemonade, Mint, and Aqua, but it’s slow to cover Dream, the Precure of Hope. She uses the last of her strength to barely stand up, and tells Kawarino that she never wants to feel the way she felt when all her friends were captured and had the masks put on them, and she knows they’ve always pulled through when they banded together. This slightly stirs something in her teammates, but Dream collapses from exhaustion while Kawarino continues to taunt.

This time, however, it’s Rin’s turn to be inspirational. She stares at the bracelet and starts talking weakly to Karen, admitting that she finally found a dream for herself after discovering that she enjoyed making accessories. Karen sits up a little bit and admits to Rin that she also found a calling, after helping Milk made her realize she wants to help the sick and injured of the world by becoming a doctor. The other girls sit up and get in on the chatter, with Urara admitting that her friends helped her realize that she could pursue and enjoy singing as a second goal aside from her acting. Komachi chimes in that her novel, Pirate Hurricane, won an award and she attributes it to the help she got from everyone. To return the favor, she wants to put all her effort into making her next story one that everyone can enjoy, and tells them about her shared promise with Urara to create a story for her to perform in when she’s a better actress.

Now that they’re all talking about their dreams for the future, they’re not despairing anymore, and the Darkness of Despair begins to retreat away from them as they stand up, declaring that they need to see these dreams through to fruition. Together, they can do anything, so they won’t give up on their dreams, and they will rebuild the Palmier Kingdom! Coco and Nuts are overjoyed to see them recover, and after a group pose the girls charge Kawarino. He tries to shoot dark energy at them but they dodge and deflect it, coming together for a five-way kick on the chameleon monster!

He knocks them away, slamming them into the walls of the coliseum, and then tries to drown them in despair with the black paper again, but this time, they just stand up and break out of it. Kawarino starts to crack, worrying that the Precures won’t follow “their” path, as he glances at the masked employees packing the arena. Dream starts to realize what’s going on and he takes this chance to try to reclaim the high ground as he reveals that Nightmare’s rank and file are none other than the inhabitants of the Palmier Kingdom! However, this doesn’t have the desired effect. Instead of being upset at seeing what’s happened to their citizens, Coco and Nuts are instead relieved to learn that they’re alive and safe. They launch into speeches about how hurt and lost they were when they thought everyone and everything they loved were gone, and how the five lights of the Precures restored their hope and optimism and faith in other people. At this point, Milk twitches a little, and Despariah, still watching from her throne, glances at the small fairy.

The Princes of Palmier continue to encourage their citizens to believe in the precure and shake off the depression, since they’ve all experienced the power of their hope firsthand during the girls’ visit to Nightmare, and they go on to say that with all the people, they won’t need the Dream Collet to rebuild after all. One of the audience members sheds a tear and a crack forms along its path, and then Milk begins to cry through her mask before breaking out of it. Kawarino is flabbergasted, and looks up at Despariah for guidance. She merely glares at him disapprovingly.

if looks could kill (and the award for original caption goes to..... not PCD)

Desperate to regain his boss’s rapidly declining approval, Kawarino grumbles about how hard he tried to lead the girls to despair, and then yells that he’s done playing around and he’ll destroy everything they love. He attaches five sheets of black paper to himself directly (as opposed to in mask form) and begins to grow. He grows to fill the Colosseum, much like Girinma all those episodes ago, but the difference is that when Kawarino is done mutating, he still has his consciousness and his appearance is exactly the same, just larger. Undeterred, the girls fight on, managing to land a few blows on his body, and they help each other avoid his various attacks.

Their teamwork inspires Milk to turn to the bystanders, Nightmare’s employees, and encourage them to have hope. The team performs a rush on Kawarino, each performing their special attacks in turn. Mint Shield protects Mint and Aqua from his tails, Aqua Tornado focuses his attention, Rouge Burning and Lemonade Shining blind him, and then a Crystal Shoot to the face knocks him back. This display of Precure’s power to reject despair is enough to push the employees over the edge, and their masks begin to break one after the other. The fairies of the Palmier Kingdom fill the stands and Milk directs them to send their energy to Precure.

no miracle lights needed

The team bathes in the light of thousands of hopes and dreams as Despariah watches in disgust and Kawarino loses his composure. Milk joins Nozomi as the team begins to perform Precure Five Explosion, now glowing with the light of hope. Kawarino tries to resist, but the power overwhelms him, and as he’s overcome, he looks over to Despariah one last time, hoping for her to acknowledge him and save him. However, she merely smirks, and he dissolves into sheets of black paper.

He died as he lived: a simp

The fairies flood the arena, surrounding the Precures, Coco, Nuts, and Milk, and it’s a joyful reunion, but short lived, as Despariah rises from her seat. She remarks on the fearsome power that the girls possess to destroy Kawarino and shatter all the masks of Nightmare, and then says she’ll show them true despair! (how many more despairs are there?) The coliseum falls into darkness, and hundreds of vaguely humanoid Kowaina, with Despariah’s old mask, begin to emerge from the shadows. Coco and Nuts usher the citizens to safety, and the Kowaina charge forward at Despariah’s command, surrounding the Precure, as she gleefully tells them to taste true despair to their hearts’ content! With that, the screen fades to black.

The Analysis

This whole arc is the absolute peak of what makes Precure so good, but this episode in particular stands out among the three parts of the finale. The girls start out at the lowest possible low. It looks like the bad guys have won. They can’t use the wish of the Dream Collet, Milk has been cast into despair, their greatest enemy has had her strength restored, and Kawarino is proving to be a very tough opponent himself. It really seems like there’s no hope left for the girls, but nonetheless, they press onward. They manage to find light in the darkness, and their perseverance weakens their opponents and awakens their allies. The strength of their hope leads them down a path to achieving their dreams even in the greatest adversity and lets them weaken their opponents. They eliminate Kawarino and the entire Nightmare employee base, leaving only Despariah herself to be reckoned with. It’s such an incredible turnaround from where the last episode ended, the team climbed out of nothingness and they’re nearly at the summit of the mountain.... or so they thought, as the episode ends with Despariah finally taking matters into her own hands. It’s an ending that leaves you worried, but at the same time, the girls have overcome everything else that stood in the way of their dreams, surely they can overcome this too.

I’m really glad that Rin and Karen’s subplot about being unsure about their futures is used as the turning point of the episode. It would be easy to have Nozomi give another inspiring speech about hope, but instead, they use the two girls who have the least concrete ideas of what they’re aiming for in life and build on that. They fulfill a season’s worth of character growth, with Rin explaining she wants to make fashion accessories while Karen wants to be a doctor. Since the major theme of the show is dreams against despair, it’s so emotionally satisfying to have the conclusion of their arcs, where they find their dreams, as the foundation of the team’s revitalization. The two girls have finally found what they want to strive for, and they won’t let Nightmare get in the way of them achieving those goals, so they inspire each other and that inspires Urara and Komachi to talk about how their dreams have evolved since the start of the series, and now they all have a bright future worth fighting for and nothing can take that away from them! They encourage and uplift each other and they have each other’s backs, so despair has no room to take hold anymore. And that moment, when Kawarino realizes he can no longer bring them to despair, is wonderful.

There are two aspects of this episode I absolutely love, and they are closely related to each other: The first is how the girls keep fighting and manage to inspire the Palmier citizens out of the darkness. The other is Kawarino’s rapid downward spiral, culminating in his defeat. They are inversely connected and represent a major theme of this arc, and possibly the entire series, which I’ve only realized this late: control vs partnership. Kawarino just wants control: control over his underlings, and control over the Precures. When the girls’ unshakable support for each other snaps them out of despair, he has no other tools to control them with, and their teamwork trumps his individuality. He tries to use the truth about Nightmare’s rank and file being the residents of the Palmier Kingdom against them, but it backfires and he loses his control over them as well, and the combined teamwork between all the fairies giving their power to the Precure is Kawarino’s ultimate undoing. Conversely, the girls rise higher and higher once they realize Nightmare no longer holds any power over them, and they work in harmony to thwart Kawarino and free their allies. Nothing symbolizes this better than their final rush on the giant Kawarino before they perform Five Explosion. He is clearly powerful, but they manage to get the jump on him by deflecting his attacks and pulling his attention in all different directions before Dream knocks him back and leaves him open for the finisher. Also, I believe this is the first time all five of them have used their Symphony Set attacks together with no stock animation.

The fairies also get some great speeches in. When Kawarino reveals the truth about the Palmier citizens, both he and the audience expect Coco and Nuts will despair from this, but instead they turn it around into gratefulness and explain how great the Precures are, and why everyone can rely on them. It’s this particular speech that breaks Milk’s mask, and then she turns around and gives her own inspiring speech to the crowd about how she could do it and so can they, because the Precure need their support. These efforts further the ideas of hope and trust in your friends being stronger than control or despair.

The rapid escalation of events after the girls free themselves from despair is great, because it reinforces the idea that dreams and friends are the key to overcoming everything. It also contrasts nicely with Kawarino’s fall. It's a battle of control against partnership, and when Kawarino stops being able to control the girls, he loses his edge. He has always sought Despariah’s approval, but as soon as he loses his control, he gets sloppy and inadvertently gives the forces of hope more ammunition when he reveals that the Nightmare masked employees are actually the citizens of Palmier. This is supposed to be his trump card, but Coco and Nuts turn it around and use it as a source of hope against him. As he stops being able to overpower the Precures, he quickly loses favor in Despariah’s eyes, and he realizes how little she really cares for him. Since his entire character up to now has been built around his adoration for her and winning her favor, this revelation that he’s actually as disposable to her as the other Nightmare subordinates is beautiful tragic irony. 

Now that Kawarino has assumed his monster form and his giant form, I want to revisit all of Nightmare and compare what he did differently from his predecessors.

Girinma

Arachnea

Gamao

Bunbee

Hadenya

Bloody

Kawarino

I don’t remember if I pointed this out before, this project has been underway for a long time and I can’t remember everything I wrote, but all the animals that Nightmare represents are predators of butterflies, which is some excellent symbolism. But what I’m really here to discuss is their transformation between their normal and black mask forms (where applicable). For Girinma, Arachnea, Gamao, and Hadenya, who all donned black masks, they were mutated into giant and more monstrous versions of their bodies, and lost sapience, seeming to revert to a more feral mindset. Kawarino, however, didn’t apply a black mask, but rather the black paper that was previously shown to become black masks, and is now revealed to be concentrated despair. He applied 5 strips of it to his body, which caused him to grow and swell similarly to the others, but when he was finished, he retained his same body proportions and his intellect, essentially just becoming larger, and presumably stronger. It is very telling that he’s not willing to subject himself to the torture he put his subordinates through, which really describes his whole character. He’s willing to force others around, because he considers them disposable, but he protects his own well-being so he can have a future with Despariah, only to realize too late that she doesn’t value him any more than he valued his subordinates. 

Despariah herself is enjoyable to watch in this episode for that same reason. Even though she’s now restored her youth and could presumably stomp the Precures herself, she chooses to just sit back and watch Kawarino do what he does, only offering occasional commentary and dirty looks. She really does just see it as entertainment, presumably because she believes that Kawarino has it in the bag, and if he doesn’t, she can step in without issue. She doesn’t really care about Kawarino except that he makes her job easier, so the colosseum setting is actually very fitting in that regard, because the life or death fight between her warrior and her enemies is just a show for her. By putting her a little closer to the action but still acting as a passive observer, the show actually manages to make her more threatening than she was when she basically cooped up in her office, because now we can actually see her and her reactions, and her indifference to the proceedings is haunting, however, this makes the few reactions she does provide that much more fun. At the end, when she’s the last member of Nightmare still standing, when she decides to get serious and unleashes her army of Kowainas, that’s an incredibly chilling turnaround after the ever more inspiring events of the episode up to that point, in a way only Despariah can deliver.

This episode started with the team at their lowest point, dragged them to the pits of despair, and then pulled right back out as they cheered each other on and inspired an entire kingdom’s worth of people with the strength of their hope. I could write forever about how beautifully inspiring it is for the audience, but it’s not over yet. Their greatest obstacle remains in front of them, and it’s going to take every ounce of courage they have to defeat her. Look forward to it!

Pink Precure Catchphrase Count: 0 kettei!

[tmnt-brave-new-world]

So, what exactly do you guys do now? Like, what occupation do the four of you have to afford the high life? I mean, I get the broad aspect of it. I guess I just really want to know more. My mun is being mysteriously closed lipped about it. And......do you guys really get driven around?

Good evening Miss Vicky,

Leo: “We each found our interests and talents opened up a several viable options that had lead us each to a “unique” position.” Leo led as he gathered his thoughts. “Keep in mind after we managed to stop Krang and those who worked closely with him, the world was vulnerable. As far as my brothers and I were concerned, we had fought too hard and for too long for someone to simply slip into the power vacuum we had created and to continue to harsh reality Krang had created for Earth’s inhabitants. Due to this we each chose to do what we knew how to do and could most easily adapt as challenges presented themselves.”

He paused for a moment as he thought about the hardships, they had each faced and managed to overcome as they slowly helped right the world and returned her to standing on her own. A shimmering blue jewel among the galaxy and other worlds that had become familiar with the planet and its amenities.

“During our years in the resistance we managed to acquire wealth and assets. We were able to accumulate quite the little nest egg using those. Along with our acquired influence it opened many a door which in the old world would have remained not only closed but permanently locked to us.”

“I became a strategic investor. Buying the remnants of properties, businesses and services and either helping them to return to what they once were or repurposing to better suit the needs of this new era and turn a profit. It proved to be very profitable and allowed for me to continue to churn out profits which allowed for me to seek other properties and businesses to invest in or connect the right individuals with each other in away that led to my ability to offer the initial capital for a small percentage of the quarterly earnings. It helped people to create jobs and led to a lot of normalcy for those who desperately needed.

One hand washes the other, and this in its essence has lead to my own sector of the Tartaruga brothers incorporated. I have a multi-billion dollar operation on Earth and several branches operating throughout the universe currently.”

 Donnie: “As Leo has said,” Donnie commented calmy, “our time resisting and fighting lead us each to our own talents. I spent a lot of time wearing many hats, which included, chemists, doctor, surgeon, agronomist, engineer, electrician, etc. to put it simply I spent a lot of time learning how to save lives, human and otherwise, and the best way to stretch our available resources in a way which led to people surviving. I also had to learn how to create medications which were so commonplace that many died without having them available. Most antibiotics don’t have a very long shelf life and when those ran out initially, we were in constant jeopardy of losing lives to the simplest of bacterial infections. My knowledge, and subsequent research lead to significant improvements and branching into many other factors, and shall we say break throughs.

Needless to say, the value of others wants, lead to my ability to fund the needs of the many. In my sector, I have several leadings areas including pharmacy, medical research, agrarian development, as well as generalized research and development in multiple fields from domestic to military. For obvious reasons, more detailed information is strictly classified.”

 Raph: Raph chuckled as Donnie glossed over his closely guarded research. He was willing to kill to protect his research and continue to control the aspects that allowed him to fund the bulk of his interests and common welfare of those he blanketed with his programs. “They ain’t lying. After the world came back from going to shit, it took awhile to get it back up and going. Additionally, there were a lot of people, generally those not from this world that were way too determined to make sure we failed. This led to a lot of infighting and groups struggling for control. That tends to lead to a lot of shady business if you know what I mean, and it wasn’t like we had any type of social services such as police, fire fighting, or anything else. I initially took charge in areas like these.

I took a lot of care to train groups so that they worked together and were prepared to handle whatever problems came. It took a lot of time to cultivate proper training programs and help prepare people on how to help a traumatized world get back to functioning in a healthy way. I still help do this on planets and areas that are in recovery.”

“That being said however, my primary interest and “job” if you want to call it that, is training mixed martial artist prize fighters for the world federation galaxy league. Simply put we aren’t the only species that likes to watch trained athletes test their skills against one another within their respective brackets, or on specially contracted prized fights. I used to fight for the league and earned a lot of titles and prestige. I won most fights and was often the favorite to win after a while. I’m semi-retired and only occasionally enter the ring now days. However, I take and train promising talents for the league and other groups. I have also trained personal bodyguards for a variety of individuals.  Different specialties come with different specifics and contracts as well as costs. It takes a specific might set for each, and a lot of time to drill into a thick skull.”

Mikey: Mikey laughed at the turtle in red, “Oh yeah, and you were the king of thick skulled back when we were young, and dumb.” He barely dodged the throw pillow that was chucked at his head.  “Let’s see for me personally,” Mikey flashed a big grin, “I happen to be a master of many trades. During our days in the resistance, I learned a lot of different tricks to help make the food rations we had on hand not only palatable but nutritionally sound while feeding a literal army of people! So when it was possible I spent a large amount of time learning how to take fancy old world recipes and revamped them with food sources that were still available or recreated them with off world goodies. I also still paint, and love to collaborate with others to create amazing new concepts!”

His face darkened for a moment as he thought back to the early days of the resistance. “There were so many people who in the blink of an eye had lost everything, and unfortunately it was insanely common to find kids who had either been separated from their families or were the only survivor. In a lot of instances they were traumatized and it took a lot of creative thinking to coax them out of their shells and help to reteach them on how to live. This happened fairly frequently with adults as well. Because of this and what seemed like a never ending shortage of textiles, I had to learn and create new ways to make things and often times help find things that brought the sparkle back to peoples eyes. Because of this however, I have a multimedia conglomerate that allows me to work in a wide area of creative outlets. The fashion world is a flippant mistress, but there are a lot of ways in which one can compete and stand out. It’s led to a lot of lucrative contracts with those who are “starving” for the next amazing piece of creatively, or at least that’s what they tell me. The great thing about taking high end contracts and commissions is that a lot like my brothers, the revenue lets me continue to reach out to others. I fund a program that includes shelters called “Uncle Mikey’s” for those who are missing, exploited, or just need help. I also teach cooking, and practical skills for those who need them, and they are streamed to community centers such as local libraries, after school programs, and the like, to try and continue to help those who never received a chance to learn to do things due to the world kind of going through an apocalypse level event.

 We hope this answers your question Miss Vicky. From the Tartargua Brothers collectively

[mediaeval-muse]

Book Review

The Wolf in the Whale. By Jordanna Max Brodsky. New York: Redhook, 2019.

Rating: 3.5/5 stars

Genre: historical fiction, magical realism

Part of a Series? No

Summary: A sweeping tale of clashing cultures, warring gods, and forbidden love: In 1000 AD, a young Inuit shaman and a Viking warrior become unwilling allies as war breaks out between their peoples and their gods-one that will determine the fate of them all. "There is a very old story, rarely told, of a wolf that runs into the ocean and becomes a whale." Born with the soul of a hunter and the spirit of the Wolf, Omat is destined to follow in her grandfather's footsteps-invoking the spirits of the land, sea, and sky to protect her people. But the gods have stopped listening and Omat's family is starving. Alone at the edge of the world, hope is all they have left. Desperate to save them, Omat journeys across the icy wastes, fighting for survival with every step. When she meets a Viking warrior and his strange new gods, they set in motion a conflict that could shatter her world...or save it.

***Full review under the cut.***

***Mild spoilers in the plot section.***

Content/Trigger Warnings: rape, sexual assault, racism, misogyny, blood, violence, infanticide, slavery

Overview: I’m not an expert on Inuit culture, so if there are any Inuit, Indigenous, or scholarly reviewers out there who can speak more about the representation in this book, I highly recommend listening to them over me. (I am, however, a medievalist, so I can speak to the Norse elements in this book, if desired.)

The Wolf in the Whale is the kind of book that I have wanted for years; one that pushes back against the colonial gaze and gives us a perspective on Vikings from a non-European point of view. Unfortunately, I’m not entirely sure if this book did that for me. Brodsky (from her own research note) is not Inuit herself, though she does detail her research process and seems knowledgeable about some aspects of Inuit culture. Combined with some storytelling elements that she included in her tale (such as rape and misogyny), I feel somewhat conflicted about how to rate this book, even as I appreciate what it was trying to do. I think for me, personally, The Wolf in the Whale didn’t do as much interrogation into gender identity as it could have, nor do I think making Inuit spirituality/religion fit into Norse mythology entirely rejects a colonial point of view. I did, however, appreciate the premise and the writing, so I’m giving this book a 3.5 star rating.

Writing: Brodsky’s prose is very literary in tone, and I thought that Brodsky wrote with an easy balance between telling and showing. She uses neither flowery language nor sparse descriptions, and it was easy to visualize what was going on without feeling like everything was being spoon-fed to me. I also think the sentences flowed well and the pace was generally appropriate, and I found it easy to keep reading, even though this book was around 500 pages long.

This book is, however, written in first person, which I personally don’t care for because first person can make some descriptions seem awkward. Brodsky manages to sidestep a lot of awkwardness by using a more literary style, reigning in some emotion to make it feel as if the POV character is retelling their story from a future, detached kind of mental state. So props to her for that.

Plot: The Wolf in the Whale follows Omat, an Inuit girl who is raised as a boy, as they struggle to ensure their family’s survival. Over the course of the novel, Omat encounters food shortages, divine conflicts, and strangers (including other Inuit, Indigenous peoples, and Norsemen), and the majority of the latter half of the book is spent following Omat as they search for their cousin, Kiasik, who has been kidnapped by Norsemen.

In general, I think the structure of the plot worked well. Brodsky divides her book into sections that reflect different conflicts in Omat’s life, and I think the events unfolded in a logical way. I also really enjoyed the valuation of stories (especially when Omat and Brandr, a Viking, bond over storytelling) and the magical realism that gave Omat a connection to the spirit world. I furthermore appreciated that Omat’s story was one of Inuit contact with Vikings; as a medievalist, I’ve studied sagas that this book is loosely based on, and I appreciate the fact that Brodsky represented the Vikings not as heroic explorers, but colonizers and slavers.

I did not, however, enjoy the fact that so much of this book seemed to revolve around misogyny, and I got a weird sense that even though Omat is our POV character, Norse mythology seemed to take center stage when the Vikings showed up. First, the misogyny: I can’t speak to the accuracy of the Inuit stories about their gods and goddesses, nor can I say for certain if Inuit peoples have strict prohibitions against women doing men’s work and vice versa; thus, I can’t say whether the numerous stories about rape or the taboos that Omat is punished for violating are accurate or exaggerated. However, I think I can say that Omat needed to have a much more defined personal journey that didn’t revolve around her disdaining women’s work or being sexually assaulted. As a girl raised as a boy, Omat is incredibly anxious about being perceived as a hunter and a man - to the point where they express a lot of disgust or shame at being seen wearing women’s clothes or doing women’s work. I think there’s a way to explore Omat’s gender anxiety without denigrating the role women play in Inuit culture, as without women’s work, everyone would die. To be fair, Omat does learn to appreciate women’s roles over time, but I think that process needed to be more gradual and punctuated with plot points where a woman’s skill or knowledge proved to be valuable.

I also do not think there needed to be so much sexual assault (or threat of sexual assault). While I do think Brodsky showed Omat to be affected by her rape, and there’s a nice moment towards the end where Omat addresses all the rape that their goddesses have endured in their stories, I also think the constant threat of sexual assault was a little much. Again, I can’t speak to whether Inuit culture expects women to essentially be sexually available for their husbands at all times and able to be “loaned out” to other men, but I think I can say that as a female reader, I was tired of Omat being threatened to be raped all the time, by Inuit and Viking alike. I would have preferred that Omat come to view their stories in a new light after their assault, and that Omat form bonds with other women who straddle the line between male and female (such as Freydis and Loki, despite their antagonism) in order to grow as a person without a concrete binary gender identity.

Now for the Norse mythology stuff.

***HERE BE SPOILERS.***

While I did like the magical realism that made Omat’s spirituality feel real, I think actually speaking to Norse gods themselves pushed this book from historical fiction to fantasy for me in a way that felt jarring. Also, I think that Brodsky put a little too much value on Norse mythology to the point where it became validated over Inuit spirituality towards the end. To explain: Omat learns in the book that Inuit gods are actually the Frost Giants from Norse culture, and while I get that Brodsky was trying to make all religions fit into one cosmic system, it felt like she wasn’t so much rejecting colonialism as much as she was imposing it. I didn’t like the fact that Inuit gods being Frost Giants meant that Norse myths are real and Inuits have to fit into Norse cosmology, not the other way around. Moreover, Omat is responsible for bringing about Ragnarok, which means that the big mythological battle is between Inuit and Norse gods. While all the gods are reborn, so to speak, after the battle, only the Norse ones speak to Omat, which felt a little unfair.

Characters: Omat, our POV protagonist, is a compelling character in that they have interesting strengths, flaws, and personal challenges. As a girl raised as a boy, Omat struggles to find an accepted identity within their culture, while also getting in trouble for pride (especially when they try to “prove” that they are a man). I liked that Omat was so interested in stories and connected so strongly with the spirit world, and I found their courage to be admirable. I did have some problems with Omat’s utter shame at all things feminine; as mentioned above, I think the acceptance of women’s work and a female body could have been a good character arc, but I think everything was too mired in misogyny to be powerful.

Brandr, a Viking and Omat’s ally-turned-lover, was admirable in that he rejected a lot of the violence of Norse culture and learned to see Omat as a capable, formidable leader. It was a little strange to me, however, that Brandr seemed to offer Omat what their people could not: acceptance of their gender-fluidity. It seemed like almost a critique of Inuit society, though to be fair, Norse people also expressed a lot of misogyny and homophobia in this book. I hated the fact that Brandr was revealed to have raped 3 women prior to meeting Omat, and while it’s good that Brandr realizes how wrong he was to do that (even though his culture told him that it was expected of a Viking), I think he got off far too easy.

Supporting characters were interesting in that they were heavily flawed. Kiasik, Omat’s cousin, struggles with his affection for Omat and his envy of them, leading him to make some decisions that open a rift between the two. Freydis, the legendary leader of the Viking expedition, is determined and harsh, which is fine since she is a major antagonist, but I would have preferred more commentary on gender roles when Omat saw her inhabiting male and female roles. Various Inuit characters were also interesting, such as Omat’s grandfather and adoptive mother, who support Omat in their personal journey. Issuk and his family were hard to like, since Issuk is a braggart and a rapist and his band does little to stick up for Omat.

TL;DR: The Wolf in the Whale has an exciting premise and does well with its magical realism. Moreover, it is well written and clearly has good intentions; however, misogyny and Euro-centric/colonial biases still creep up and detract from the valuation of the main character’s Inuit culture.

[2ofswords]

Since I am so tired of reading „I know Dankovsky sucks and his ending is horrible“, before every comment that defends him, I will now throw myself into the fires of discourse and write an essay about:

Why The P1 Utopian ending does not mean Danko is an asshole

(A bit of swearing and a lot of spoilers under the cut)

Since I already spoke about being tired of disclaiming a lot, here are some of them. Firstly: This is NOT a comparison and I am definitely not saying, that his ending is better than the ending of the Haruspex or the Changeling. That would be ridiculous and I wholeheartedly belief that the other characters have morally better endings. (Though I will make one ending comparison at the end of this essay just to make myself even more of a hypocrite and there will be a comparison of one aspect of all three P1 endings, that is not made to compare their general quality but… well… this specific aspect of the ending.)

Also this essay isn‘t about Dankovsky not being an asshole. This is not a character analysis, I am only talking about the ending and his relationship regarding his path towards it. There are entirely different arguments to be made about his character that I will not talk about. Surprisingly a character is not only defined by the outcome of their story.

And last but not least the weirdest disclaimer of them all: While my arguments try to defend Dankovsky in his ending I totally understand if you still think his ending makes him more of an asshole. Killing a lot of people is always a dick move and the decision is still a horrible one. I do not really want to argue that people are wrong for judging him based of his ending. I just want to explain, why we also do not have to feel ashamed for deciding to not judge him as a complete asshole based on the main outcome of his route and why his motivation isn’t only based on spite or even ruthless calculation. Also, I think that there is a lot to say about his decision, that isn’t really said and that these are interesting aspects. Sorry to say it, but I just wanted to have a catchy title. I just really love this ending and it’s complexity and wanted to discuss it aside of calling it the evil Danko ending.

So. Let’s start with the easy argument that some people are talking about.

Argument 1: Danko completely lost it and holding him accountable due to his rationality defies the point of his route.

This one is… one of the weaker arguments, but I will still elaborate on it. The entirety of his route is built upon loss and failure. While the Haruspex starts with a mob that wants to kill him and works his way up, the dynamic of his route is him seemingly starting on top of everything and slowly loosing his bearings and by the end of the story this man is already driven to madness. Being used as a pawn in politics, getting daily “fuck you”-letters from the Powers that Be, realizing your lives work is already destroyed and all of your colleagues are probably as doomed (and being the one responsible because he was their leader), realizing that Aglaya – who was the one person who seemed to be his ally at the end – used and betrayed him just like everyone else, having the one truly honestly kind person commit suicide at least partly because of his failures, witnessing his own helplessness against the plague (an enemy that should align with his expertise as a doctor), being hated from day one by almost everybody in town, realizing that the political allies are totally bonkers and also preparing to off themselves (Victor! You seemed moderately sane at the beginning. The betrayal!), getting almost beaten to death while trying to help the town while spending all these days in an hostile place that slips into chaos… yeah I think you really aren’t in the headspace for rational thought. It is a miracle that that guy hasn’t completely broken down and day eleven and to some extend day 9 and 10 are showing him as completely unhinged already, only leading up to a decision, that isn’t really made out of spite or coldness but rather desperation and blind tunnel vision. The day eleven mission involves him going on a rampage against a military squad because of a vague hint and he only checks after the killings, if Andrew is even there. That isn’t a calculated action it’s about a man being completely shattered and making everybody suffer because of that. (Which is also horrible, but an entirely different sort of tragedy.) By now he just shouldn’t be the one handling the situation at all but the local powers sure want to wash their hand of any guilt that they haven’t already attracted. Also – and more importantly – the Polyhedron literally is the one good thing happening to this man. After going into it on day 9 he thanks Khan for reminding him of a childhood he has forgotten! He has a shit week, he is completely beaten down (quite literally) and this is the one happy moment he finds in all this chaos. Clinging onto that is surely not rational, but it is human. We all know that the Bachelor has the tendency to survive on willpower alone and here clinging to the tower and its miracles is literally his only motivation to continue his route at all. Of course he is going to protect it at that point, if thinking about any other option bring nothing but utter misery and the acceptance of complete and utter failure. After all Dankovskys route is about the limits of his rational worldview and how it hinders him more that it serves him in a world, that isn’t defined by rational beliefs. Of course he will be out of it by the end and actually loosing his composure is an important part of his suffering and character development in the story. His ending is not a sign of rational thought but the last consequence of being enraptured in a web of circumstances that forbid him from making rational decisions in the first place.

Truth to be told, I don’t really like this as an argument. I love this thought as a peace of characterization. As much as I love his ending and the horrible consequences and the actual failure it imposes, when we look at the other playable characters. But it doesn’t really help us here. It doesn’t change the fact, that Dankovsky destroyed an entire town just for a dream, a man-made building, a promise of utopia that we never witness ourselves. He still destroyed so… so much! But… let’s look a bit deeper into the motivations behind that exchange.

Argument 2: The Trolley problem

“There is a runaway trolley barrelling down the railway tracks. Ahead, on the tracks, there are five people tied up and unable to move. The trolley is headed straight for them. You are standing some distance off in the train yard, next to a lever. If you pull this lever, the trolley will switch to a different set of tracks. However, you notice that there is one person on the side track. You have two options:

Do nothing and allow the trolley to kill the five people on the main track. Pull the lever, diverting the trolley onto the side track where it will kill one person. Which is the more ethical option? Or, more simply: What is the right thing to do?” (Wikipedia)

There is a variation to this question and interestingly enough it is one of the morality questions Aglaya asks in Pathologic 2: Would you push a man down a bridge, to save the children from a train? The curious thing is, that we can see all healers giving the same answer, (even if we have the choice to choose differently, since it is… you know… a dilemma). Necessary sacrifice is a constant of all three routes and every single protagonist has to kill in order to save a larger amount of people. Still, the game never answers moral choices with a simple answer and here with the Utopian ending we can see the darker side of this moral dilemma in full force (to a lesser extend this also applies to the Humble ending, since it also involves the Trolley problem, albeit on a smaller scale.) If we take the Kain’s studies about the focus and the soul seriously and see the Polyhedron as a method to ensure immortality seriously – or if we at least assume that Dankovsky wholeheartedly believes in that concept – than protecting the Polyhedron at the cost of the town suddenly becomes the Trolley problem at a significantly larger scale. The Polyhedron could ensure the survival of humankind but only at the expense of the town and it’s infected inhabitants. After all death is to Dankovsky but an affliction that can be healed just like the plague and consumes far more victims (if not all of them even if one would survive the disease). And that poses the question: When does the Trolley Dilemma stop working? What if there are two million people on the tracks and one million on the other side? What if there are hundred people on one and ninety nine on the other? What about five million vs. four million and nine hundred thousand? Can a human life be counted against the life of several others? If we look at the game itself and the healers answer in their daily life, it seems kind of simple: Yes, it is possible. The effort of saving is worth dirtying your hands after all. Risking at least your own life seems like a fair deal and no route really works without at least some degree of human sacrifice. But on this larger scale… it seems absurd. And… well… it is. But still. If we just try to empathise with the Bachelors mindset. If there is a possibility to cure humanity’s mortality… if there is a sliver of possibility (and since Thanatica is destroyed the Polyhedron seems like the only possibility at this point)… what kind of sacrifice is worth preserving it?

I myself have my own answer to that question. In Germany the Constitution starts with the sentence “Die Würde des Menschen ist unantastbar” or: “Human dignity shall be inviolable.” (This is the official translation though a more direct translation would be “Human dignity is inviolable” which is more of a statement and less of a law) Even if the effect of that sentence in politics is very debatable and it is incredibly vague and not really a usable sentence as a law… I really like it. The human rights as a concept as well as equality can be concluded from the fact, that human dignity is something that cannot – under any circumstance – been taken away and is always a thing that must be considered just by being human. It is… nice. And it also means, that a human being cannot be seen as a mere object and has its own agency. A human being is not quantifiable in their existence by any parameter, be it birth, skin colour, gender, sexuality, religion, interests, talent, job, body, etc… It is incredibly important… and incredibly interesting in our scenario. Because if life isn’t quantifiable at any circumstance… the Trolley Dilemma has a solution. There is no way to tell, if one life can outweigh several others and deciding over their lives is something and judge over the worth of their live is something one should never do. Thus Dankovsky’s choice to save the Polyhedron and outweigh the lives of the infected seems morally wrong.

But… is that the answer the game has? Well… the artbook of Pathologic 2 states that the design of the game is about enforcing ambiguity and I would argue that the first instalment is no different. Firstly: In times of crisis lives become quantifiable. That is part of the tragedy. The healers’ lives are suddenly worth preserving, while others appear as nameless numbers in a daily statistic and caring about the individual dignity seems impossible. As already said the act of killing in order to preserve life is almost mandatory in every single run. So, what about human dignity? Can it even be preserved under such a dilemma? (And there is probably a point to be made about everybody being dolls and thus not even a being with dignity and agency at all… but I digress) Especially doctors have to face this dilemma and they have to make these judgement calls, weather they like it or not. The game doesn’t answer it but makes different variations of the same dilemma that we may judge differently. The Utopian ending is one variation.

What I want to say is, that – if we take the Kains’ believes seriously and see the survival of miracles against the law of nature not only as progress but as a question about human mortality itself – the question if the Polyhedron is worth saving is a very different one. I personally think that the idea of the focus still feels too esoteric to be a real point of interest but on the other hand… it is not like we haven’t some proof when we visit Khan and listen to his testimony. It is not that this place is above it’s miracles, and we know that a lot of the mysticism is grounded in reality, be it by the very real ways of the Kin or the past existence of Simon. So only thinking of the polyhedron as an abstract concept is… well doing it a disservice if we take the other parts as serious. Yeah it is made out of it’s own idea but… you know being like “it cannot exist but it can sure puncture the earth and kill everything” is… a weird way of thinking and it sure is a McGuffin (and even called that in the Artbook) but as we said, the game is about ambiguity and the only way to look at its existence is not only “evil tower of doom”. Is it worth keeping? Eh… I wouldn’t say so myself. I still think the Utopian ending is pretty shit and seeing the tower as salvation for our mortal lives is pretty farfetched. But the question for this essay is: Is it wrong to think, it is worth keeping? And from Dankovsky’s perspective, who sees it as the only possible chance of curing human mortality… Well… the answer at least isn’t as simple anymore. But – and now we are getting somewhere – the argument about the complexity of human value can be also made without even relying on Kain-Bullshit.

Argument 3: The Utopian Ending is the only ending, that completely gets rid of the plague (at least from Dankos point of view)

But wait you say, the other endings also defeat the plague! There even is a cure, something our beloved Bachelor of Medicine never archives. What is this lunacy?

Well here is the catch: A cure does not destroy its disease. Or at least it is an unreliable method. Sure, if everyone is cured and/or the disease helps to build antibodies, then it does help to get rid of it. But the sandpest seems to leave the bodies and not finding these remnants and antibodies is one essential part of the Bachelor’s route. It is the reason Rubin needs a living heart in the first place. The disease doesn’t seem to stay and no antibodies seem to be developed. (And even if I try to avoid material of Pathologic 2 in this analysis since there are differences in the Canon I still at least want to mention, that the Panacea as well as the shmowder do indeed not help against the disease after it is cured and a person can be reinfected. I do not know, if the same is the case in one and if you can test it out.) But if there are no antibodies, the cure could only eradicate the disease if every single infected person is cured at the same time. Good luck with that! That’s not bound to be a complete mess in this town!

This is backed up on day 12 in the Bachelor’s own route. When he is presented with the options the other healers have, he always asks both of them the same question: How does that ensure the future of the town? The Haruspex makes a cure yes. But what if the disease returns? After all the underground water he talks about still exists and there is no telling, if it will ever reemerge. It already happened once… The Haruspex doesn’t answer with “no, that will never happen”. He says that they will have enough cure if this is the case. An optimist, I see. And definitely not a satisfying answer if we consider a scientific perspective. What if the cure runs out? What if they find out too late and the plague spreads outside of town? A cure is not a waterproof system against plague. (You know what works better though? A vaccine.) Daniil’s mission was always to eradicate the disease and this would not do the trick. Having only a cure is risky. And it might not be a permanent solution.

The same applies for the Humble ending. If one asks the Changeling what would happen if the blood of their sacrifice runs out she answers “There will always be people willing to sacrifice themselves” Which is… just great. Constant human sacrifice just doesn’t seem that sustainable. And it also means that there will be constant loss of human life. Something that might even lead to more sacrifice in the long run (although that would be a reaaaaly long run considering how long the sacrifice of the Clara’s bound is supposed to last.) But it sure as hell doesn’t make the plague disappear. What if there are no willing sacrifices? What if Clara is gone and there is no one to perform a miracle? Clara’s ending relies on faith by nature and putting your trust in it is easy from a player’s perspective but even harder when there are lives at stake, the success unsure and these questions to consider.

Dankovsky’s ending is built upon uprooting the plague and eradicating it. The problem is that it is everywhere and not easily destroyed. As Lara very adequately realised: There is no source. His ending is the consequence of that goal and even if it loses in every other aspect, this is the one, where it wins. It actually destroys the problem itself. Building a new town and keeping the tower it cannot reach, actively minimalizes the possibility of the plague reappearing. And a more permanent solution might save more lives than one that sounds more humane at the beginning.

Okay, to defend the Haruspex for a change of pace: In his route he actually does believe that his method eradicates the disease as much as Dankovsky is convinced that his solution does the trick. For him the source is the Polyhedron and the way, it wounds the earth. With it removed the plague will not reappear. But why should Dankovsky share this belief? No one tells him! The inquisitor says that the Polyhedron is the root of evil but there never is any actual proof for that. Even If the Polyhedron is partially responsible and Danko actually does acknowledge this, it is the bloody mess of underground fluids that are in fact the source (which is ironically confirmed by the Haruspex himself). As he tells the inquisitor herself at the last day: The source and the cause can be too different things. It already seeped through Andrey’s spiral to the upper layers. The damage has already been done and in fact the Polyhedron is now the only save place, where nobody is infected. Everything else needs to be destroyed to eradicate the disease but why even destroy the Polyhedron? Wait. Why even destroy the Polyhedron? What good would that even do if we would consider it? What the fuck would Dankovsky even do with the destroyed Polyhedron, how would that save the town?

Argument 4: Dankos ending isn’t about the town vs. the polyhedron at all!(From his perspective. It totally is for the player though!)

I experienced something weird while playing the Bachelor’s route in P1. And with that I mean that I experienced something weird, that I wasn’t already expecting. After hearing so much about the fabled Polyhedron love, assuming that he sacrifices the whole town for its sake and hearing from the inquisitor in Pathologic 2 again and again how obsessed he is, I waited for the revelation. The moment Dankovsky would completely lose it and become utterly and undeniably obsessed with the children’s tower. That moment… never happened. Or well… it happened remarkably late and with less impact than I thought. Until day 9 the tower isn’t even a point of interest to the Bachelor, which is two thirds of his route. But even after you witness the miracles of the Polyhedron yourself, you still can argue against its glory. You can agree with Aglaya on day 10, that it seems dangerous (even if that could also be tactics, but until this point there is not really a reason for that). Hell, you can tell Peter on day 12, that his ideas will always only exist in his mind and blueprints and that the new town they will create will not work out! That is so weird, if the result of his run is, that he sacrifices the town for the Polyhedron! Why is there always an option to speak against the miracle we want to save? Isn’t that completely strange?

If we take the town vs. polyhedron conflict serious then… yeah it is. But is this all, what his end can be about? I would argue against it. Because what finally tips him to his solution and completes his view on the map of the town isn’t the Polyhedrons glory: It is the towns underground water and the Haruspex telling him, that the deeper layers are infected. That is, when he flips his shit and he even has an “oh no, it can’t be!” moment. Weird, isn’t it? If he would be set about destroying the town, why agonizing over this information? But from his point of view it is a nail in the coffin, the realization, that the whole towns ground is seeping with infection and if not eradicated, it will reappear. The Bachelor doesn’t have a cure and the Haruspex, while promising that he has a solution, sure as hell doesn’t explain how that would work and insists on arguing his own case without interference. (Which is completely understandable but doesn’t clear the situation.) The Bachelor has no means on his own to fight the plague outside of destroying the town. This is his only option to call of the bombardment of the Polyhedron and the tower and from his point of view, destroying the tower would archive absolutely nothing. It is free of infection, why destroy it? What would ripping it out do aside from letting even more blood seep out? In his own case, this would be completely useless, thus destroying the Polyhedron does not save the town! When the Bachelor flips the switch and guides the trolley in a different direction, he isn’t guiding it from hitting the Polyhedron to hitting the town. He guides the trolley from hitting the town and the polyhedron to only hitting the town! And by the way to only hit the town which his infected people while everybody else evacuates in the tower. (Which is confirmed by his ending cutscene, where people are actually present. After all it takes the healthy to built the new town). In his own mind, the Bachelor is saving people, not killing them! He does what he can so that the most of them survives and in his case, destroying the town is the only method to ensure victory at all.

If we stick to his own route – as I am doing right now – we have two counterarguments against this theory. The first one: But isn’t that only the failure of finding a better method? And: yes it is. As we already discussed in the first argument, the Bachelors story is about failure and the game itself is about necessary sacrifice, lose-lose situations and making the best out of a desperate hopeless scenario. Which leaves us with the question: Could Dankovsky have found a better solution? And… maybe. If he was more attentive, made different choices, would have been nicer to the Kin… There always are “ifs” but I would argue that the ones in this scenario are… pretty small odds for a change. He does genuinely try to inspect the abattoir and find a solution and ensure it’s safety and is almost punched to death as a result. The Kin regard him with absolute hostility, and for a good reason but it doesn’t help his case. Without Burakh’s knowledge and caste-rights making a cure would be (almost) impossible. He isn’t allowed to do any normal doctoring the one time, he tried to gain some blood from dead people, multiple guards had to die in order to ensure this absolute act of evil to go unnoticed. Thus he has to rely on Rubin’s secret lab. The possibility of Simon and his powers against the plague also aren’t usable… The Bachelor doesn’t even get to see his corpse after all. What choice does he have other than eradicating the cause itself? It’s definitely not the elegant solution that he was hoping for but there is a reason for him switching to inspect everything after ruling out a living plague carrier. These are the desperate means of finding a solution when his own knowledge of medicine has already failed him and the hopes of providing such medicine are already dwindling. Saving the town is simply not an option, the moment itself becomes the source of the plague.

The second counterargument is this one: Why not side with another healer, when they provide a better solution? And this is also a very valid argument. And thus, the moment it becomes an option, we as the Bachelor can choose to do so. If he has the cures that are necessary to ensure another healers victory, it is completely possible to avoid that ending. He doesn’t have to stick with it as well as the other healers do not have to, so judging him based on the other routes being better outcomes becomes obsolete. He has the ability to use these options, but if we lack the cures, his own solution is the only one. (Of course you can also save the other characters bound and then still decide to destroy the town, but using this scenario as his only motivation, when you can totally decide for yourself is a bit harsh, isn’t it?)

Of course, this argument collapses the moment we play any other route and he is trying to convince us to save the Polyhedron and abandon our own plans. However his own route can be considered his own perception of the story and our knowledge, how much he knows about the others paths is pretty limited and dependant of our choices as the player. Also, seeing his character and the changes made with that in mind, we can actually explain, why they appear. Of course, everybody tells Artemy how much the Bachelor is in love with the tower, when we’re not seeing it to that extreme in his route! It is necessary to fulfil his role in the Haruspex route. Of course, both the Bachelor and the Haruspex will appear as demons in Clara’s route. They do offer nothing but destruction from her point of view and both solutions seem destructive and spiteful, if they try to convince her. Everybody seems on board with seeing the characters in her route differently, but I think that the same applies to the Bachelor and the Haruspex in each other’s route, since their roles in the game changes. Or at least the perspective changes based on the others worldview. The Haruspex seems a lot more dangerous and his medicine a whole lot shadier, while the Bachelor seems to be more in love with the tower and ready to abandon everything for it, because it seems that way in comparison to the other persons knowledge of the situation. This is also backed up by the doll ending, where the Bachelor is being called out as the villain most of the time. In other routes he appears more villainous than in his own route, because we do actually have the means of comparison. But this is our perspective and not actual character motivation. We as the player do have the choice to work toward an ending. We can with our knowledge of the game go the extra mile to secure enough cures from the very beginning and help another healer. We are aware of the fact, that Clara and Artemy are other playable characters and we know from the very beginning that their beliefs have to be of value and their solutions will be backed up by their own routes. We know the opposition these characters stand in and while we see the different routes we may judge them for ourselves. And while Clara definitely knows and the other two healers show some sensibility towards this opposition (the “left hand, right hand”-quote comes to mind), at least the male healers are basing their decision upon their beliefs and not some outside point of view (while Clara watches and not-so-silently judges them). They even try to help each other and even provide the key insight to their own plan’s destruction (the Bachelor guides the inquisitor eyes to the Polyhedron and its structure, while Artemy outright tells Daniil of the underground infection). Of course they do not have the full picture! How could they, this entire game is about them not having it and making terrible mistakes! Dankovsky doesn’t have the ability to judge his own solution how the player does. And while judging his ending based on this information is completely valid and sensible, implying that he knows this detriment and still goes through with everything feels… a bit unfair to say the least. The conflict of the town vs. the polyhedron is an important debate in the game. And yes, Dankovsky’s role is being the advocate of the polyhedron, but man, this guy has the tendency to get manipulated into advocating random shit! The town vs. polyhedron debate is as present with him, as it is with the Haruspex. With the Polyhedron being the source in his route, he really has no choice but to remove it. After all, this guy really has no reason, to protect the Polyhedron. Of course he doesn’t! He would never sacrifice the town for the sake of his own ideology!

Argument 5: Let’s talk Nocturnal!

I promised one comparison, didn’t I? Still, we are now diving into abstract talk about the games’ themes and less about character motivation. Consider this more of a bonus and a different thought and less as an argument for Dankovsky himself. Comparing one ending to a different one does not make one of these characters more or less of an asshole. And comparing Pathologic 1 to Pathologic 2 obviously doesn’t tell us anything about the canon of either of those games, since they have vastly different results and we have no idea what the Bachelor’s endings will look like in Parhologic 2 (though I would be surprised if we couldn’t destroy the town and save the Polyhedron. But who knows, in Artemy’s case the army only pisses off.) Still, I think it is very interesting to talk about both of these endings side by side.

And I will begin this comparison by telling you that I love this ending! I am so happy that it exists and I think it is glorious and I think it’s existence is really important. I am so happy that Artemy has a reason to destroy the town. But is this okay? Or – as a comparison – is this a better idea than the one Dankovsky had?

I would argue that these endings have a lot in common. They both preserve their own ideals and establish a radically new order at the cost of the town itself. They both kill a shit ton of people for the miracles they have witnessed along the way. One could even argue that the Nocturnal ending is more horrifying. Firstly, more people die. While the Bachelor saves the uninfected, Artemy saves only those who “live with earths will” which seems to be like… the ten guys chilling in the abattoir and some of the kids. We know that there are only mere hundreds of people left of the kin and since everybody in the termitary doesn’t seem to count… who even gets saved? It’s at least as vague as the question who isn’t infected and can be saved at the Utopian end. But – more importantly – Artemy definitely has a choice in that matter and decides to sacrifice the town for the sake of the past. (If you’re not me. In my playthrough I got the courier note twenty minutes before 22:00 and the game was like “what are you going to do, such a hard choice” and I was like “I literally do not have the time to get this thing to town hall”. And then Aspity was like “you made your own conscious and completely willed decision” while Artemy just awkwardly stared at her…) But even disregarding that, the ending is surprisingly similar. Yet I see no one judging either the Haruspex or his ending for being overly cruel and well… killing a lot. Actually, I only read posts defending it and saying that it is as morally okay as the diurnal ending and could also count as a good end. And… I kind of agree. The sacrifice of the diurnal ending is pretty steep and destroying some species – while the worms, herb brides and albinos definitely show human qualities – is pretty fucked up as well and preserving them can seem worth the cost. (Oh my, do not say we arrived at the problem of human value again!) Still… It is destroying the town for its miracles. That is literally what this ending is about, yet our asshole sense does not tingle at all! Why is that?

I think there are two arguments for this difference between our outlook on the Nocturnal and the Utopian end. The first one is that the Kin and its culture is very endangered and protecting it just seems more morally sound than protecting some rich dudes. Which is very fair and the Kains are very fucked up. Buuuut, it isn’t like there is the termitary quest that preludes the diurnal ending. Finishing the game doesn’t exactly mean that we abandon the Kin. Part of its beliefs and culture, yes. Definitely, and as I said I still think the Diurnal and Nocturnal ending are pretty balanced. But a part of the Kin is assimilated and is coping and while protecting its culture and very real traditions is completely valid, the Nocturnal ending also destroys parts of the Kin (the Termitary part) as ill fitting for living with the earth…. So… hm… It’s not as easy as saying “but you help the Kin in one and some rich dudes in the other”, since the Kin itself are also torn and we are still only allowing a specific way of living. A specific worldview containing the miracles of the town… On the other hand, the polyhedron and its miracles can also be considered endangered and unique. It is a one of a kind structure as is the miracles it can provide. The Stamatins are pretty unable to reproduce it, as the game likes to tell us and destroying it would destroy all hopes of a one in a time event to come to life. Also there are talks about the Utopians being a faction of the entire town with one third of the population agreeing on their beliefs (as it is the case with the other ideologies). And the plans Peter and Maria make do sound interesting, dreamlike and… well unique. Something that can also only happen in this circumstance. But alas… we do not know that much about it and their word is only what we have. And this is the second aspect that makes the Nocturnal ending more relatable: Buildup. We witness first-hand what this Nocturnal world would be (sometimes for better and sometimes for worse), we know the beings and the miracles of the earth. We do not really get in touch which the utopian ideas and only have the rambling of good old Georgji which… yeah that doesn’t help their case! But there are kids calling this new town an “eternal adventure” a miracle that can come to live and I would say, that this thought is quite beautiful. And it certainly is unique, which is the main argument of the Nocturnal ending. Wonders, plague and miracles. Destroy one and the other will vanish. So… what is worth keeping a miracle? The answer now seems even harder to grasp. Maybe even impossible.

But we also do not have every puzzle peace. I still have hope for the two different routes and with them there are the possibilities of new realizations and also new endings. I myself am really curious if we either get an option to save the town or a reason to destroy the Polyhedron as the Bachelor. (And I am very curious as well, if Clara will get a second ending. What would that even be? An all destruction ending to set everyone free???) There also could be more elaboration on the Polyhedron and its inner workings. Maybe we will even understand what the Kains are talking about! There are some allusions to a more concrete Kain worldview. The nut-game while very disturbing makes the entrapment of the soul way more real and gives the focus some context. (It also doesn’t only connect it with the polyhedron since “anything can be a focus. A polyhedron, a room, a nut”.) The same applies to the clocks and their connection to the save system, which makes the miracles of the Kains way more real. And I digress. Only time will tell.

Conclusion:

I think it is clear by now, that this way too long text isn’t really about giving answers and more about perspective. I myself would say that the Bachelor’s choice is terribly misguided most of the time and the only possible method to save anything at best. But I do not think that it is made with its destructive force in mind. What I wanted to show is, that the motives and the narratives surrounding this ending are way more complex and also really, really interesting. (I just wanted to gush about this game!) As are the characters that comment on the situation at hand. And reflecting on how we judge them can say a lot about our own view and the world (this one as well as the Town on Gorkhon).

[thebibliomancer]

Shadows of the Dark Crystal liveblog pt 10

Shadows of the Dark Crystal by J. M. Lee BECAUSE I WANT TO KNOW WHERE KYLAN WENT

Last times on book: Naia sets off on a journey to defend her brother Gurjin against accusations of treason against the Skeksis. She stops at Sami Thicket and is joined on her journey by Kylan the Song Teller. She and Kylan discuss a lot of cool lore and then he disappears. Dangit!

Chapter 12

Naia finds Kylan in a hole, another darkened creature occurs, and a lot of dreamfasting happens.

Apparently Kylan fell down a hole. Naia falls down the same hole while looking for him.

Womp womp.

Its some kind of dug-out burrow. Given the scale of the furniture, likely a Podling’s house but its abandoned. There’s dust all over everything and things have been left to rot. So abandoned or... would Podlings just leave behind everything or did something happen to the inhabitants?

Spooky.

Naia finds a mysterious and also spooky dark tunnel and decides, hey lets go explore down it! But remembering Kylan’s fear of darkness (because of the time his parents were horribly murdered by the Hunter) she tells Kylan to stay put while she explores.

“She trailed a hand across the overgrown wall to keep her bearings, feeling the soft spongy tendrils and leaves of the life that had taken root in the cavern’s abandoned insides. The leaves and coils shivered as she passed, crowding around her fingers to take in her scent, kissing her knuckles and fingertips.”

How evocative. I would hate it. But it does remind me of the swamp/forest scene from the movie. Which is a specific setting moment that Dark Crystal doesn’t always recapture.

Thra is weird! And a bit unsettling!

Naia sees a weird glow among the weird wall plants and starts digging at the soil of the wall to find out what it is. And she finds another one of those dark crystal (ha) veins, like the one she saw near the giga-nebrie.

Whatever these dark crystals (ha!), it goes beyond the Sog or its spreading.

Then Kylan calls for her help and she hears something big digging through the Earth.

“It’s the Hunter,” Kylan whispered, grabbing her arm in terror. “He’s here. He took the Podlings. Now he’s come to take us!”

This poor boy.

Also, huh, I guess the Hunter would account for the missing Podlings. Seems like random cave Podlings wouldn’t be ‘a worthy prey’ but maybe he’s just a serial killer who likes to fancy himself up.Where was the ‘hunt’ in killing Kylan’s parents in their home at night?

But no, its not the Hunter. Its a ruffnaw! That other thing Kylan mentioned wanting protection from, aside from fizzgigs.

It had thick oily fur coated in dirt and mud, and its eyeless face was spiked with hundreds of long whiskers. At the end of its pointed nose was a red flanged cluster of nostrils that flared when it took in the open air, flashing a warning crimson. The color was a sign of danger, and so were the huge hooked claws that made up the creature’s front paws.

I’m imagining.... a pissed off mole that’s also a wolf? I dunno. I can’t find a picture.

Another fun use for dreamfasting? JUST PSYCHIC!

Naia grabs Kylan’s hand and dreamfasts with him so they can talk to each other without making noise. I guess the limitation is that they have to be touching for it to work but its so cool that Gelfling are just vaguely psychic.

She warns him that the creature has been enraged by the crystals in the Earth and he tells her that Ruffnaw hunt by sensing movement, not by sight. Which seems obvious. What with the no eyes.

Neither Gelfling found another exit than the one they fell in so Naia gets some rope out of her pack to make an escape rope but the ruffnaw jumps on Kylan who backed away nervously.

Noooooo the very thing he feared would happen!

Naia jumps on the ruffnaw to try to keep it off Kylan. She considers stabbing it with Gurjin’s Sweet Real Metal Knife but remembering how the giga-nebrie reacted to being hit in the eye makes her reconsider.

No swamp to vibe in here.

Instead she. Dreamfasts with the ruffnaw??

I know Gelfling are vaguely psychic but what??

Instead, in desperation, she reached out to the ruffnaw with her mind. She first felt a searing, blinding light, then saw a dark jagged silhouette floating in a tunnel of fire, and finally felt the groaning of Thra itself - creaking and moaning in agony.

You keep getting mysterious visions, Naia. Are you perhaps some manner of protagonist?

Then a whistle frightens the ruffnaw and it darts back down the tunnel it came from.

A dazed and confused Naia finds the escape rope and hucks it back up the hole and Kylan and Naia escape the spooky burrow.

“What happened? With that whistling call... Was that you?”

Kylan put his small fingers into his mouth and curled his lips in, then blew a loud, bold whistle that carried across the plan. He put his hands in his lap and shrugged.

“The ruffnaw fears the hollerbat call,” he said. “I heard it in a song.”

Naia sighed, but whether it had come from a song or not, it had worked.

Hey! Kylan has had decent rate of success so far with stuff he remembers from songs! Just saying! This is why bards rock.

Naia being vaguely annoyed that Kylan is 99% book learning by volume amuses me though.

Also amuses me: Naia checking her pack to make sure she didn’t drop anything in the doom cave and sees a trembling tail at the very bottom of her pack. She pulls the tail and out comes a terrified Neech who Naia soothes and then dunks on.

“It’s all right. It’s over. No thanks to you, little spithead.”

Ha.

Naia tells Kylan she dreamfasted with the ruffnaw and like me he’s like wait you can DO that??

He helps her over to a tree to rest under and since she’s so exhausted she can’t help but accidentally dreamfast a bit, mostly the emotions they were feeling in that doom hole. Like her shame that she wasn’t able to save them with wings she didn’t have yet.

At some point in this liveblog I’ll stop talking about how thrilled I am with this expansion on what dreamfast does and is but that time is not right now.

Because now I’m thinking about it. Gelfling can accidentally dreamfast just by touching someone. Is this idea that its rude to do that just something thats been socialized into them and not how their culture would have naturally developed? Because they’re psychic at a touch but can also hold stuff back. In this bout of accidental dreamfast, Naia still manages to keep some stuff hidden, although its Effort.

I don’t know but it seems like its something that all Gelfling are able to do. That when they’re young they do it pretty indiscriminately, and then a sign of maturity is that they start closing themselves off from other people.

Anyway, Kylan remarks that Naia knows more than she’s letting on considering she wasn’t surprised at the way the ruffnaw was behaving.

Naia decides to expo dump to him since they are companions, heck maybe even friends.

Another great art! Love it!

So Naia shares with Kylan... basically the book up until now. Although she keeps the stuff about Gurjin treason a secret.

Kylan shares with Naia his life and the night his parents were taken by the Hunter.

And here’s the weird thing! Naia sees the Hunter in the dreamfast! Not clearly, because it was dark! But she sees the bone mask and the eyes.

Maudra Mera claims she couldn’t see anything but darkness when she dreamfasted with Kylan.

So did Maudra Mera not see because she didn’t want to see? Did she deny what she did see? Intrigue...

Anyway, Naia tells Kylan about the crystals she keeps seeing.

“The crystal veins... they’re a sickness in Thra,” Naia said. “They darken the hearts of creatures. I worry about what might happen if the sickness reaches the Castle of the Crystal.”

Oooooof.

“The Skeksis will protect the Crystal,” Kylan assured her. “Ancient gods gave them the power to protect it when the castle was entrusted to them.”

Ooooooooooooof.

There’s a lot of dramatic irony in this book.

Also, “ancient gods”? Plural? Has Aughra been spun off into several people in myth? Give me the lore!

I actually wonder about Gelfling religion because. The stuff they can believe in is so tangible. The Crystal is Right There. They have immortalish Skeksis, akin to gods, living at the center of their culture. The world itself made a person just to hang out with its inhabitants.

Anyyyyway. The little adventure in the cave burrow has so wiped out Naia that she calls it a day and they make camp right under that tree they stopped to rest at.

[readyplayerhobi]

A Court Of Curses

; Vampire Prince!Hoseok x Witch Queen!Reader

; Genre: Smut, angst, fluff

; Warnings: Fingering, oral sex (receiving), choking kink, unprotected sex, biting (vampiric), blood play, creampie, dom!Hoseok, sub!reader, dirty talk, mentions and talk of miscarriage

; Word Count: 29.3k

; Synopsis: For millennia, the vampires and witches have hated one another and war has raged between the two. When tensions flare up once more and spill into neutral land, peace is forced upon the two by the faeries. The price of peace sees the Witch Queen married to the Vampire Prince. One hundred years later, how have things changed?

; A/N: So... I hope people like this. I know it’s super long but I’m hoping people will enjoy. Please let me know what you all think to our delightful vampire prince and please, if you enjoy then reblog and comment! It will help this story reach more people given the issues Tumblr is having!

-

The relations between vampires and witches have always been tense and strenuous. For thousands of years, your people and the vampires have fought in anger and other negative emotions with diplomacy almost non-existent. Retaliation after retaliation, until the original cause of the rift between both races has long been forgotten by the general population.

But you knew how it all began. Your father, the Witch King, had made sure the history of both races was taught to you as you’d grown up within the walls of the seat of power in Hekatalia. That included learning the horrifying knowledge that would fracture your society if they remembered, and would likely incite refusals to acknowledge what had happened. For your people were not the victims, no matter how much they tried to plead it after various vampire attacks.

Amongst your kind, there were various forms of magic that witches performed. Most remained firmly in the white category, with their magic innocent and pure. Some gravitated towards grey, with hexes being cast in anger or annoyance but never crossing an unseen line.

Dark witches though, revelled in the more sinister aspect of magic. Shunned by the normal population, dark magic was performed with especially negative emotions that thirsted for power, driven solely by desire. Sacrifice was common, and torture had been heard of. While deemed repellant by witch society at large, the wicked magic performed by dark witches was often considered required, for you could not have light without dark.

Long ago however, millennia ago in fact, dark witches had thirsted for power just as much as they did now. A certain sect of dark witches however, the Vampirius Sect, had become infamous for their experimentations with their magic beyond the usual sacrifices. These despicable witches had experimented with blood and death and a magic so dark that even the demons shied away from it.

The result had destroyed the sect itself, but it had left the survivors of their experiment forever changed in a way that rocked the world. These people had once been human in some form, simple peasants from the witch kingdom that had been kidnapped from their homes and farms as they worked and slept.

But afterwards, they were maddened creatures that had been ravaged by the dark magic that had crept into their bodies and changed themselves physically, their innate magic being twisted until it no longer resembled anything a witch would call magic. Their vision had been enhanced to that of a cat’s, able to see further and in the night, while their speed and strength had been increased astronomically also.

A farmer who had once struggled to load up his wagon now had the strength to throw said wagon.

And their hunger. Oh, they had hungered for something they did not understand. Food and drink could not sustain them for long, and their mouths watered for something they could not understand until one day, they had snapped. And attacked.

Fangs, sharp as knives, had elongated in their mouths and they had discovered something that satiated the desperate thirst they had. Blood.

Over time the vampire race, so named after the sect that had produced them, had gained their senses and intelligence again. Learning how to use their abilities to increase their standing in the world, they worked hard until they had gained enough land to create a kingdom of their own. They used a combination of slick diplomacy and hard fought battles until they commanded respect from the other races.

All, except the witches. Whom they loathed with a vile passion for what your race had done to theirs. And so war raged between the two. The witches assaulting vampiric lands with spells and magic, burning their crops and razing their lands with spells that left the ground barren.

The vampires responded by destroying witch villages, draining the inhabitants of blood and burning down whole buildings with people inside.

Both sides had committed crimes that were eye-opening and horrific, but you considered your side to have done the most wrong. After all, it was your people who had tortured and experimented on their own kind until the vampires were born.

Over the millennia, the original reasoning for your conflict had become forgotten. It had simply become expected for the witches and vampires to hate each other. And they had. Hundreds, perhaps thousands, had been slaughtered through witchcraft or exsanguination over the years.

Until the neighbouring kingdom’s of the faeries and werewolves had had enough of the war spilling over into their lands.

You had been but a princess when the Great Demonic War had happened. The war had originally begun when a break-away clan of vampires had attacked the witch town of Craysus. Every witch had been slaughtered, with blood soaking into the rich dirt while their houses burnt to ash.

Your own father had tried for diplomacy at first, reaching out to the vampire kingdom of Sanguinus and asking for them to try the murderers. It was futile, as diplomacy had never been officially maintained between the kingdoms.

They had refused however, claiming that the vampires had nothing to do with their kingdom as the accused had renounced their allegiance to the Kingdom of Sanguinus. And so the villages and towns on the border of your kingdom, Hekatalia, had waged their own war. It had been like dominoes falling one by one, until both sides were enraged and war had begun again.

Only this time, people on both sides had fought on land that was not their own. When a faerie prince was killed by accident, the grief-stricken Faerie Queen had united with the Wolf King to end the damned feud between their neighbours once and for all.

A demon bargain had been struck between them, and the Gates of Hell had been opened onto your lands and the vampiric lands. The demons had rained destruction and disaster on both sides, laughing in the face of pleas and scoffing at threats, until finally both beleaguered kingdoms were pleading for mercy.

Your own father had been killed in a battle with a demon to protect you once the fighting had reached the castle, leaving you the next Queen of the Witches. The Vampire King had grudgingly met with you to iron out details of a peace treaty, unheard of between witches and vampires. Unfortunately for both races though, the faeries were not forgiving creatures and the punishment was severe.

A union between vampire and witch was demanded, a marriage between the monarchies. As the Vampire King was already married, his only son had been chosen instead. You had agreed to marry him with bitterness, the knowledge that this would save your kingdom from ruin and death the sole thing that had made you acquiesce.

Your wedding day, a day that should have been bright and happy, had been quiet and subdued. A delegation of the vampires had taken their place in the Oak Grove, the traditional place for marriages in Hekatalia, while a small contingent of witches from your Court had stood on the other, both sides glaring at the other.

The Ancient Oak had stood above you, with its wide trunk wizened with age while grand branches arched overhead. A soft breeze had rustled the leaves gently, which were spelled to never die, and you had wondered for a moment how many marriages this tree had overlooked. How many declarations of love it had observed.

Your dress had been customary for the witches. An emerald green made of the richest silk that swooped and hung elegantly over your curves to represent the earth, while a navy blue sash had been tied to your waist, twined through tiny silver hoops, to symbolise water and rings with rich rubies to represent fire adorning your fingers. The white silk ribbon threaded through your hair represented the very air you breathe, and your feet were bare to connect you to nature and the source of magic.

It probably all seemed very primitive and bizarre to the vampires, with their elegance and love for fashion. Not that your people were not interested in fashion, but they also needed a connection to the very nature whom they relied on to provide their magic.

Tiny white flowers, symbolic of marriage and happiness, had been threaded through your hair along with the ribbon while an elegant diadem intertwined with diamonds and silver leaves rested on your forehead.

Your fiancée had worn a suit of darkness, from his black breeches that clung to toned legs to the ebony, fitted jacket with subtle gold trim that sat on his slim frame. A deep, sultry red shirt of the highest quality silk took its place underneath a black waistcoat, while knee high boots laced up along the front had completed his look.

Despite the animosity between your races, and the fact that you were being forced to marry him to end a war, you would have been a complete fool to deny the handsomeness of him. The vampires were known for their beauty, often breeding purposefully to engineer aesthetically pleasing offspring.

Jung Hoseok was the product of centuries of careful marriages, and it showed in the stiff manner in which he held himself, exuding a confidence and strength that would have made you shiver under normal circumstances. His body was trim and toned, yet there was enough muscle to let you know that he could likely more than hold his own in a fight. He’d been in the vampiric army apparently, serving as a captain during the war.

But his face, his face would never let anyone think he was anything other than royalty. A strong jawline caught the eye first, and anyone looking at his profile would get a perfect view of his arrestingly beautiful nose, sloping straight before turning up at the end ever so slightly.

Hoseok had, and still has, a face made for portraits. Paintings to be looked upon and admired for centuries to come. You had no doubt that artist’s hands twitched for a brush to try and do him justice on a canvas.

High cheekbones led to soft, plush lips with dimples that softened him when he let them appear. And yet it was his eyes that had made you swallow involuntarily at the time. Dark with loathing and hatred for not only you and your kind but the faeries who had brutally hammered an end to the war that had shattered both your lives.

But even then, the shape of them had betrayed his inner personality. Because despite how hard your future husband tried to show his distaste, he had kind eyes.

Still, neither of you had wanted this marriage. And yet you had to, for the only other option was the annihilation of your peoples.

The ceremony had been subdued, a blend of both witch and vampire customs. He’d taken your wrist to his mouth, biting down on the vulnerable flesh there with just enough pressure for his sharpened fangs to cut through the surface. One swallow and he’d let go, before biting at his own wrist and presenting it to you.

It had been distasteful, and you’d wanted to gag at the very thought. But it was required as per their custom. It was how vampires married, my blood to your blood. And so you had swallowed the bitter, metallic liquid with gritted teeth before the exchange of silver rings had occured.

The handfasting had occured next, both holding each others hand as little as possible as the priestess wrapped the rope around your wrists and hands tightly while speaking the marriage vows that you had both repeated.

And then had come the parts that was not traditional to either of you.

The Faerie Queen had stood by and watched as this all happened, before moving forth and placing a dainty hand on your entwined hands. With a slightly smirking smile, she had bestowed the Faerie Curse that had ended the damnable war, finally.

Jung Hoseok and you were wedded, and your kingdoms were at peace. The terms of the curse were simple. For six months of the year, you were required to be together otherwise suffer excruciating pain. If you were not together, then the curse would spread to your people slowly like a disease until both races eventually died out.

To provide some respite, the final six months of the year allowed you to separate. To prevent attempts to be cruel to each other, or try and kill each other when you weren’t required to be near, then any attempts to see each other would result in equal amounts of pain for yourself and your peoples.

If one of you were to die, then that race would die also.

Which meant that you were both bestowed with immortality, even beyond the long lived natures of both races. The perfect way to stop a war, and for one hundred years it has been a great success. The crown jewel in the history of diplomatic relations of your continent.

For the first time in millennia, the vampires and witches are at a full peace. Neither side plots against the other while fringe movements that seek to destabilise the tranquility are struck down quickly with an iron fist to keep the peace.

And all it required, was for the Witch Queen and the Vampire Prince to lose their own chance at happiness.

-

“The carriage has been seen, Your Majesty.” The words come from an attendant who takes your empty plate from you quickly, bowing low so as not to see your expression of distaste. Sighing deeply, you look down at your now barren table and take a deep drink of the rich red wine in your glass.

Six months of quiet is about to be interrupted by the arrival of your husband, and it only takes a lazy glance around the expansive dining room to see the quick movements of servants as they clean.

You’re not sure why they bother, as he has lived in this castle for fifty of the last one hundred years, but you presume it is just a force of habit. Any guest arriving saw the castle being cleaned from top to toe. At least he couldn’t complain about a dirty residence.

Standing, you smile graciously as another attendant takes your empty glass before they scurry off through a side door to the kitchen. You have no doubt that the kitchen staff are cleaning up for the evening, perhaps even making their own meals to either eat in the warm room or to take home to their families.

You had long ago decreed that the servants of the castle were free to eat in the kitchen and any leftover food should be eaten instead of thrown. It would truly be a travesty for your chef’s food to go to waste. Jin did not train his skills in three kingdom’s just to have that thrown away.

Walking out of the overly large dining room, you move slowly through the empty hallways and look them over with a critical eye. The stone walls are clean, with not even a cobweb in sight and your lips purse as you note the crystal clear glass of the windows. Even the paintings that hang along the walls are in the best condition possible, each one with their colours vibrant and vivid as they portray important moments in witch history or one of Hekatalia’s many monarchs.

Your own portrait is not in this hallway, but you never like looking at it anyway. The artist, Kim Taehyung, was phenomenal but you simply found it vain to stare at yourself. There was a second portrait of you with your husband in another hallway and you sometimes felt like you could feel his disdain coming from within the coloured oils.

Moving towards the main hallway, you take a pause to look up at the grand and cavernous room. The ornate chandelier, with its thousands of exquisitely cut diamonds, is shining brightly as the spelled candles burn forevermore within, casting dancing shadows around the room in the evening light while the glare of the crystals causes pretty patterns to appear.

The sweeping staircase on either side of the entranceway is made of the finest marble, and you ponder for a moment the many kings and queens who have used these stairs to retire for the evening. There are plenty of staircases in the castle of course, but as the main entryway this was designed to shock and awe visitors.

Which it did, but your husband did not arrive using the main entrance. Not after one hundred years anyway.

Instead, you continue on down one of the smaller corridors that is usually used by the servants of the castle. Years spent as a child in these halls mean that you know the castle like the back of your hand, and as such you know the quickest way to the servant’s entrance around the rear of the castle.

Nodding to the attendants who wait with blank faces, you head out of the door and stand with perfect poise. Your timing was ideal, as the aristocratic black and red carriage enters into the small courtyard as you place your hands togetehr. The four Sanguinus steeds breathe heavily, their dark sides heaving from the effort of pulling the carriage and you watch as servants from your own stables move forward to provide water and feed for the animals.

Vampire coachmen alight from the carriage and you recognise one of them as Kim Namjoon, a long serving attendant of your husband’s who has accompanied him on the extensive journey from his kingdom to yours over the many years. Luggage is pulled from the back of carriage and piled high before the door opens and you finally get a glimpse of the man you will spend the next six months with.

He’s tall and elegant as always, with a stiff and straight posture that belies his regal upbringing. Taking a moment to observe the tall, white walls of the castle, you hear him let out a little sigh before he rolls his head slowly, stretching his shoulders out. The journey is long from Sanguinus to Hekatalia, and you have no doubt that he is tired and in need of rest.

Finally, his gaze moves to you and you watch as those dark eyes turn onto you firmly. Even after one hundred years, it is still an awkward meeting of the two kingdoms. Perhaps one day, it will not feel like this.

“Wife.” Hoseok greets coldly, his expression barely moving except for the slightest twitch of his dark brow. Equally dark eyes remained focused on you, and you noted the tiniest pout to his lips.

Still immature, even after one hundred years of marriage.

“Husband.” You responded, making sure your tone matched his own. His attendants shuffled awkwardly around you both, the glacial attitude you both had to each other causing a strong tension in the room that you simply couldn't see.

“My prince, we will take our leave now and return in six months for you,” Namjoon next to him whispered, a hand on your husband’s arm that stood out from the black material while is own icy blonde hair swayed in the soft breeze. “We wish you well.”

Hoseok didn't even look at the man as he nodded his acknowledgement. Your husband was not rude to his attendants, but you had noticed over the years that the vampires were certainly a little more brusque when it came to ruling. They often thought the witches were soft in that area, but you just reasoned that it was natural to care more when you had such a strong link to nature.

Without any further words, you watched carefully as they alighted into the carriage before the horses pulled away at a frantic canter. Amusement tugged at your lips as you watched them speed off, still fascinated at how many of your races could still hate each other after one hundred long years of peace.

And one hundred years of your curse.

There's silence for a moment, the sound deafening between you both and you're sure it's louder for your husband. He has hearing beyond your comprehension, something that has been a source of annoyance over the years.

Without a word, he moves closer in a stride that gives away his confidence that you will not push him away. There are no attendants of your own here, for it has long become established that you greet your husband in private.

As he stands close enough that you can feel his warm breath brush the flyaway strands of your hair, you can't help the tiny smile that appears

Reaching forward, your hands slip under the black jacket he has on, sliding along his dark waistcoat before they rejoin around his back. Looking up at his elegant face, you note the darkness in his eyes has softened slightly, deep black strands of hair falling into his gaze.

He says nothing for a moment, before he cups your face in strong hands that are ever so slightly cooler than your own. Leaning close, you take in the magnificent sight of your husband as your noses touch gently.

“I have missed you wife.” Hoseok practically breathes out, the longing and want of six months that he has kept hidden threading through each soft word.

You can't help the smile, nor the warmth of satisfaction and the buzz of happiness that burrows its way into your body at his tender words, his hands tender in their touch on your face. “I have missed you too husband. Desperately.”

He smiles at that, statuesque face breaking into a heart stoppingly beautiful grin that lightens not only him but you. Not a word is said further as he presses his lips to yours in a soft, but much needed kiss, your lips naturally fitting to each other after years of experience.

Despite the chaste nature to the kiss, he doesn’t move away to shorten the kiss and neither do you. Instead, your hands move to grip at the firmness of his slim waist while his own slowly move down your body, causing a wave of sensation that has you burning from the inside. Each touch is electrifying, setting your skin ablaze and you curse the fact it has been six months since you have touched him like this.

Since he has touched you like this.

Pulling away from him slowly, you give him a smile that is far more shy than it should be for a queen. But how could you not? He fills you with a happiness that vanishes with him for six months of the year, stowed away with him in the carriage he takes back to his kingdom.

“Come, I will have a bath drawn for you. You no doubt want to clean yourself.” You whisper, the sounds barely heard as they breath against his lips but he smiles all the same. A slow nod sends the dark strands of his hair into his face as he acknowledges, before you are both separating and heading through the plain wooden door.

Inside are four of your attendants, and you direct two of them to pick up his luggage and place it inside his rooms while the final two are directed to run him a warming bath. They pause for a moment, eyeing the handsome visage of the vampire prince next you before bowing their heads and scurrying out of the room.

Over recent years, the reactions to your husband have thawed in your kingdom. No longer is he treated with outright resentment, but more of a bored annoyance that simply seems to stem from an inherited idea that he is something wrong. Perhaps it is because he is always courteous, polite and kind whilst here.

Either way, the servants of the castle no longer sneer in his presence. They are certainly not comfortable with him, but you have noted the younger servants seem to be more at ease in his company.

It is eye opening to think that there are witches who will grow up only ever knowing peace with the vampires, and it gives you hope that one day you will be able to love him openly.

The two of you stand there for a moment in silence, neither looking at the other given the eyes that could be staring. You wish, desperately, that you could love your husband like any other wife. That you could watch him with an expression that says he put the stars in the sky for you and give him sly, coded smiles to make him flush and go shy like he does in private.

But you can’t. Because your marriage is not a marriage of love and kindness. It is a marriage of curses and pain. And that is what everyone expects to see.

Despondency settles itself firmly in your chest, gripping your throat tightly with a grim hand and it feels hard to breathe suddenly. You just want to love your husband. That’s all.

You’re jerked out of your despairing thoughts by the softest brush against your hand. It’s so featherlight that you almost think it’s a insect of some kind, scuttering along your skin and you jerk until you look down and see his hand there, brushing yours in a motion that would go unnoticed by anyone watching. Lowering your hand back down, you let the back of his hand brush against yours as you lead him to his usual rooms, a smile hidden deep inside at his comforting touch.

The two of you had learnt well how to hide your feelings for each other over the years. Despite the thawing emotions in your kingdom, there were many who still looked at him with disgust. Particularly those who did not live or work in the castle. Disgust for what he is, and fear for what his people have historically done.

You wish that you could show them that your people had done terrible things too. It would be wise for your population to remember that it was because of witches that vampires had even been created.

Shaking your head slightly, you let out the tiniest sigh as you acknowledged how futile that would be. In all honesty, you were just thankful that your people had chosen to accept the treaty. Both the witches and vampires were proud races, and it had been a bitter pill of humiliation to swallow to accept the terms offered to them.

Though, in reality they had no choice. The royal lineage ended with you and you were the metaphorical lightning rod of all magic for witchkind. It was through you that nature pushed its magic into, and it filtered out from you to the rest of the population. Millennia of breeding may have made Hoseok beautiful, but it had made you the perfect receptacle for the sheer amount of power you hosted.

Without you, the magic would run rampant and wild, killing witches who simply could not cope with that level of magic. A simple spell to wash a bowl could erupt into the equivalent of a magical bomb.

It meant that your people had to accept the treaty. The choice had been a slow death of madness with magic overloading people’s senses, a slow death of the curse spreading out in a wave or their lives in tact while their Queen remained shackled to a vampire.

It was easy to see why they had acquiesced.

Only, no one could have predicted that in only one hundred years, you would see the Faerie Curse as a half blessing. Half because it had given you your beloved, but half because it took him away for part of the year.

The prying eyes of servants who had not been spelled to keep your secrecy meant that you left Hoseok at his door, a meaningful glance from him telling you more in only a few seconds than any words could have ever hoped to say.

Your husband and you had become masters of conversations with only a glance, words with a touch and emotions with simply a subtle gesture.

Bowing your head to him regally, you turn and force one foot in front of the other as you hear his door close quietly. Your own rooms are next to his, the traditional suite of the monarchy and as you enter them, you rue the silence of the large expanse.

It had been your parents room before their demise, and you had changed it subtly over the century. A four poster bed took up most of the space, elegant curtains of pale silver and ruby red ready to make a private area just for yourself to sleep in while fluffy pillows littered the upper half of the mattress.

You wondered sometimes if any of the servants who were not in your, very small, inner circle had figured out the subtle meaning of them. Silver was the traditional colour of witches, while red was the symbolic colour of the vampires. Combining them together was a subtle gesture you had made long ago to let people know that this was your marriage bed, despite his separate rooms.

Sitting down on the soft, downy covers, you run a hand along the silk slowly and let out a slow, shaking sigh. Movement to your left causes you to look up, spying your most trusted assistant as she bows her head in respect as she enters the room.

Soyeon is young, but her family have served yours now for three generations. She had discovered your secret feelings for your husband when she had accidentally intruded one morning years ago, finding the two of you in the throes of passion.

Both of you had been terrified, worried about what people would think when they discovered the intimate relations the two of you shared. They had accepted the peace treaty, and begrudgingly accepted the marriage of monarchies, but resentment and anger still lingered strongly. It was one thing to consider the vampire prince courteous, but you were not sure how people would feel about finding out he shared your bed.

Instead, she had shyly smiled at you and told you that she was happy that you had found happiness in your marriage. It had confused you at first, the fact that a witch was not afraid or angry of her queen being in love with a vampire but she had been supportive ever since. She even liked Hoseok. A lot.

Hoseok was always kind to her when he was here, and it reflected in how she had accepted the relationship you had. He liked to joke around with her and you were pretty positive he considered her a little sister.

It had been the first time someone had voluntarily undertaken the spell that would not allow her to insinuate anything that could give away your love for each other, and she had become closer to you than anyone you had known previously.

“The prince is looking handsome today.” She says, her tone soft yet with just a tiny hint of teasing. Your lips quirk slightly, happy that you have at least one person who will tease you like a friend would. It was hard to maintain true friendships when you were the leader of a country, particularly a leader with a spouse that was despised.

“He is always handsome Soyeon, whatever do you mean?” You joke back, standing when she gestures and turning around to give her access to the delicate ribbons holding your dress together. Breathing out with relief as the tight bodice slackens, you watch out of the window over the darkening skies.

“You’re right, Your Majesty. He is always handsome. Are you happy he is here?” Her voice is sweet, full of curiosity towards both him and you while her deft fingers work at the dress quickly and efficiently. Watching the sky that is painted in oranges, pinks and yellows, you let a smile brighten your face.

“So happy. I have six months of happiness with him. Even if it is beyond closed doors, in empty gardens or secluded areas.” A hint of wistfulness enters your voice, the pining you have to just be with him normally appearing without your consent and Soyeon lets out a soft sigh of her own as she helps you out of the dress.

As you slip on your white nightgown, so plain compared to the delicate finery you normally don in the day, you watch her closely in the mirror as she begins to tidy up your room. “I’m sorry Your Majesty. I can try to make it so that you have more time alone with him this year?”

You smile at her appreciatively, nodding your head in acknowledgement while she begins to wipe away the makeup she had applied so carefully to your face this morning. “I would appreciate that Soyeon. Still, I’m happy because he is here at least. I can see him and hear him. My loneliness has disappeared now my happiness has arrived.”

A beautiful smile spreads over her face, lighting up her tan skin and revealing the sweet face you often admired. Soyeon would make a wonderful wife one day if she so chose, with her kind and caring nature combined with the beauty she had been bestowed at birth.

“I’m glad. You’re finished for the night Your Majesty,” She pauses slightly as she reaches the door, hands clasped together tightly. “I will ensure that no servants are to bother you tonight, or tomorrow morning. Nor your husband.” A secretive look flits over her face and you nod in thanks.

Soyeon is truly a gift.

The young assistant leaves your rooms and you walk over to the door, locking it carefully before turning to the door that connects your room to your husbands. Long ago, it was common for monarch’s to sleep separately from their spouses. That had changed over the centuries, but the rooms were still designed like this and were still connected.

When you had first married, you had lived in fear and concern for your life at the fact Hoseok had been placed in the rooms next to yours. It was the only thing you could do as a sign of respect for his royal standing in Sanguinus, but the knowledge of him being there had been nerve wracking. You had been as prejudiced towards vampires as your fellow subjects.

Now, however, it was a benefit that you often thanked yourself for doing. Because it was the only time that you could be sure you would have time with him alone.

Heading over to the mahogany door, you tap lightly on the intricate engravings that portray an ancient forest. A quiet acknowledgement comes from the other side and you enter, closing the door almost silently behind you as you take in the sight before you.

Hoseok’s rooms are a mirror of yours, with his bed covered in blood-red silken sheets that look luscious and inviting. His luggage, the griffin symbol of the vampire monarchy engraved on the dark leather front, sits on the floor nearby, waiting to be stored away in the numerous dark wood wardrobes, drawers and chests that are situated around the room.

And the elegant, marble tub that had been brought into the centre of the room took pride of place amongst everything else. It was currently sat atop the intricate rug that Hoseok had bought four years ago, the red and silver strands weaving together in a beautiful and nonsensical design.

It feels delightfully soft and fluffy as you walk upon it, stopping next to the bath’s edge. Inside, is your husband. And he looks magnificent as he lays back, the water up to his chest and steaming from the heat while a layer of frothy bubbles hides anything else from your curious view.

His eyes are closed as his head tips back against the edge, the black strands of his hair sticking to his forehead in the sweat that glistens all over the skin you can see. The lit candles around the room make his golden skin almost glow and you have to physically bite your lip to keep the moan you want to let out in.

“Enjoying your bath, husband?” You ask quietly, kneeling down and placing an elbow on the cool marble. He doesn’t do anything for a moment, but you note the twitch of his lips as he tries to keep his lips firm.

Reaching forward, you let your fingers trail along the velvety skin of his lips and laugh softly with amusement as they open up immediately for you. Hoseok makes no comment as you push your index finger between those open buds until you feel the firm enamel of his fang. His reaction is immediate and you watch with a raised brow as his hands grip the sides of the bath firmly, toned muscles in his arms suddenly appearing at the movement.

Something you had discovered over the many years, was that vampires had a little bit of an oral fixation. And their teeth were a little more sensitive than yours.

His head jerks away from your prying fingers and he glares at you through narrowed eyes. “I was, until my wife decided to intrude upon my quiet relaxation. What does it take for a man to bathe in peace around here?”

His grumbling is light though, the tone of his voice almost airy and your stomach clenches at the sound. Anymore teasing that you might give him is gone suddenly as your hand moves along his face, thumb stroking at the silky skin of his cheek while your other hand traces along the prominent veins on the back of his hand.

“Well...it has been six months since your wife saw you. Maybe she just missed you?” You don’t mean for the words to sound so full of emotion, your throat constricting while a sheen of tears suddenly fills your eyes.

Almost immediately he’s frowning, sitting up in the water and causing it to slosh along the sides loudly. Some of it even falls over the edge, dropping into your lap and causing a damp spot to stick the thin fabric of your gown to your knees.

“Darling, I did not mean to upset you. I have missed you dreadfully too,” His own hand cups your cheek now, damp from the water and you lean into it desperately. The pressing of his forehead to your own causes you to open your eyes to him, noting those chocolate irises so close to yours. “I swear, it gets harder every year to pretend to hate coming here. One year, I will jump with joy when the carriage arrives for me.”

You huff out a laugh at that, knowing that it is likely going to be a long time before Hoseok does such a thing. Relations between your races are no longer fiery and hot, but have instead turned glacial and cold with both sides understanding that they have to grudgingly get along.

People are likely not ready to accept the fact that their queen and prince are in fact, in love.

One day though, you will both tell the world to go to hell and finally embrace your own happiness. And why shouldn’t you? You had been forced into this marriage one hundred years ago, why should they expect you to both remain unhappy in it forever?

Moving away, you take hold of his hands and thread your fingers through with his. For someone who was in the military during the war, and even now remained active when he was back there, his hands were long fingered and elegant. Pianist hands.

He could play the piano as well, and he often liked to for you when he was here. Songs filled with love and emotion that only you could decode and understand.

Taking the cleaning rag that had been left over the side, you dip it into the water and slowly begin to drag it over his skin. He watches you lazily, appreciation in his eyes as you clean along his chest and arms slowly.

“How have you been?” You ask quietly, stroking along the delicate yet firm flesh reverently while your eyes flicker across his face, taking in every bit of him to see if anything had changed. Vampires were long lived, even longer than witches and they healed faster too.

But still, sometimes things happened that could leave permanent scarring.

He smiles for a moment, the look making his eyes crease and look even kinder than they had the day you had married him. That is, until you note the sly look in them.

Before you can even say anything about that, his hands move to your waist where he grips firmly and the next thing you know, you’re landing in the tub on top of him in a supreme show of vampiric strength. Water immediately bursts over the side, the bubbles slipping over the edge and you let out a shriek of combined laughter and indignation as your nightgown clamps to your skin.

The water is almost scalding hot and there really is no room for two people in here, but you can’t find it in yourself to complain as he holds you closely to his chest while your legs dangle off the edge.

“I have been fine my darling. Bored even. There’s nothing interesting happening there. I’ve simply been leading military maneuvers and listening to my father as he holds meetings. I hear that we have finally managed to secure a trade deal with Hekatalia? Apparently the leader was a real witch to work with.” He muses, tilting his head back as he scans the ceiling in faux surprise while his hand rubs at him chin.

You poke at his chest lightly before leaning forward and nipping gently at his jawbone. “Hush you. Be glad you weren’t present for those meetings. That, is the epitome of boredom. You know what I really don’t care about? The tax ratings on cheese. Great goddess, I thought negotiating taxes on Sanguine steeds was bad enough.”

Hoseok watches you fondly as you continue to complain about taxes, noting that there’s a reason you hire advisors who specialise solely in tax work. The entire time he watches you, his fingers slowly trace along your exposed thigh in a decidedly non-sexual manner. Instead, it feels soothing and comforting.

“Well...our cheese truly is delicious though. Do you not remember when I brought you some ten years ago?” He states and the memory slowly filters its way back into your mind. Eyes widening as your cheeks flush, your head tilts down as you lick at your lips.

“I do. It was delicious, I will concede to you on that.” You say slowly, eyes flickering back up to look into his. He’s silent for a moment, and you’ve known him long enough to know that he is calculating behind those pretty eyes of his.

“I do like it when you concede to me.” He whispers and you can’t stop the shiver that runs through you at the slight darkness to his voice. Your husband has sexual preferences that are probably considered brow raising to many, and disgusting to many of your race in particular.

“Still, I’m glad I don’t have to do those kinds of meetings yet. Despite the years of training, I’m really not sure if I’m cut out for this king business. In fact, I’m hoping my father lives a lot longer or he just gives the throne to one of my sisters. Then I can just let my wife take all the prestige.” One of his hands move around to your waist, stroking along the wet fabric there slowly while a smile spreads on his face.

You snort out a decidedly un-ladylike laugh as you let your own hand rest against his damp shoulder. Hoseok is not your equal in your kingdom, nor will he ever be. In the world you live in at large, men rule most of it. But Hekatalia is a kingdom that run by the women more often than not, your father had been the first Witch King in over 1000 years.

As such, Hoseok will never be king here, in fact he will always be your Prince Consort. But in his kingdom, you will be his Queen Consort, of an equal ranking to him. He doesn’t care about this, and he’s made it clear on more than one occasion that he doesn’t care. You like that about him, that he isn’t interested in the power that will be bestowed to him.

“You will make a good king Hoseok, despite your concerns. You are kind and caring. Yet strong and not afraid to bring down justice when needed. I could not be prouder to call you husband.” You grin at him and watch as his already reddened cheeks from the heat flush even further.

His pink tongue flicks out to wetten his lips before a hand pushes at the wet strands of his hair, moving it backwards until his entire forehead is on show. You murmur approvingly before looking back into his eyes, noting the deep brown that has a slightly reddish tinge to it now.

Hoseok says nothing further, but instead leans forward until he captures your lips in a kiss between his own. The kiss earlier had been innocent and full of longing, but this has a decidedly different tone to it.

Hot and needy, with the passion of six months celibacy sparking between the two of you. Each movement of his lips is perfect, with just enough pressure to make you want more and you can’t stop the soft moan as your lips open up to his.

His response is immediate, with his tongue dipping into your mouth and dancing with your own in a sensual game that you had both begun decades before. The dance is familiar and yet tinged with anticipation and need, each stroke of the wet muscle against your sensitive mouth pulling a corresponding convulsion of your inner muscles between your thighs.

You respond to his movement, shifting your body until your legs slip under the hot water, moving so that your knees rest against the tight space on either side of his body while your arms wrap around his neck. His sharp incisors, elongated from his heightened emotions, accidentally nick your tongue. The pain is fleeting and an unfortunate price to pay for kissing a vampire but you can’t it in yourself to care.

Not when the growl he releases sounds like it has been ripped from the bottom of his chest, guttural and vibrating against your tongue as he sucks it into his mouth at the small taste of your blood. It may not be the prettiest kiss to witness, but it is pure attraction and desire between the two of you as you moan and pant, grinding your hips against his groin.

The wet nightgown sticks to you above the water, but below it floats aimlessly while your panties are almost tantalising in the friction they’re producing against your clit. Hoseok’s hardness is pressing firmly against you in the water and you can’t stop the way you press against him, hips moving forwards and backwards with desperation as your stomach tightens.

Pulling away from you with an almost audible noise, Hoseok breathes heavily as he looks up at you with ruby red eyes. “Wife...you taste so good.” He gasps out, his fangs lenghtened to their full length and you can’t help the shiver of fear that runs down your spine. Even after all these years, the instinct that has been bred into you tells you to run.

It just makes the sex better.

“Have you fed?” You whisper, pressing needy kisses to whatever skin you can reach on his face and he lets out a low groan that’s bordering on a whine as you grind your scalding heat against his thickness. His head shakes a negative and you bite your lip in response, reaching down to tug off your nightgown and throwing it over the side where it lands in a wet heap.

“Feed then husband. What kind of wife would I be if I did not make sure my husband was cared for?” You whisper into his ear, kissing along the exposed skin there and delighting in the salty taste of his sweat. He practically purrs in response, his hands moving up from your waist to cup your breasts while his thumbs play with your hardened nipples.

“I have missed this, wife.” Hoseok grins, looking up at you with eyes that should terrify. Instead, you lean down and press a quick kiss to his mouth before moving along his jawline, sucking open mouthed kisses there while pushing at his head.

He doesn’t bite though, and instead one hand drops below the water without you realising. Instead, you feel the sudden pressure of his fingers against the swollen bundle of nerves between your legs, the pads swirling around the bud in a pleasing manner that has your hips jerking and a cry leaving your mouth.

“Oh Hoseok, goddess yes.” You breathe out, head tilting back as he plays with your clit slowly. Hoseok doesn’t move fast, instead letting his fingertips press against you in firm and measured movements that makes sparks of pleasure zip through your body with each rotation.

Moving his head, Hoseok presses his lips to your collarbone and sucks hard at the skin, leaving rosettes of bruises that will have to be covered up tomorrow no doubt. You find it hard to care though when he slips a long finger inside of you, your inner muscles contracting greedily around him as he strokes along your insides in a slow and steady pace, exploring a place he knows well yet hasn’t been acquainted with in so long.

“More.” You whine, high pitched with need and he acquiesces with a dark chuckle, tongue laving attention to a particular spot on your neck. A second finger enters you, scissoring for a moment to stretch you in a way that you gasping and gripping his shoulders firmly before he’s twisting the long digits in a pleasing manner.

As he moves his hand, water slaps against the side of the tub from your insistent hips that angle and move to try and get the most pleasure you can, while his arm moving causes its own ripples corresponding ripples. Carding your fingers through his damp hair, you press his head further against you.

It’s as his fingers press firmly against the roughened bunch of nerves on your inner wall, the sensation causing fireworks of sparkling pleasure to erupt in your body as you clench around him, that he bites. The combination of his talented fingers, his thumb working insistently on your swollen clit and the pinch of pain from your throat sends you clean over the edge.

Body jerking wildly, you cry out in the throes of pleasure as you contract around his fingers with a vice like grip. With your hips gyrating wildly from the force of your pleasure, Hoseok has to work hard to stay in control as he continues to stroke you through your orgasm until you’re whining with tears from the over stimulation.

The whole time, he’s sucking at the twin marks he’s made in your neck as he feeds. Quiet groans of delight leave him as his throat works, swallowing your blood while he finally stills those talented fingers inside you.

Hoseok had to feed at least once a week, and you used to have a servant agree to do it. Over the last few decades however, you just claimed to have a servant do it when in fact, you fed him. No one had ever caught on, as no servant ever wanted to admit to being fed on by a vampire.

It was only with you that he used sex though, and he admitted that it wasn’t only for his own sexual needs. Pleasure, apparently, saturated the blood with a rich flavouring that made it even more delightful and pleasing than normal. He’d compared it to soaking a fine joint of meat in an aged wine.

Licking at the bite marks he’d caused, Hoseok remains with his mouth against your neck for a moment as you both breathe heavily, catching your breath. Running your fingers through his hair, you tug lightly until he looks at you with a lazy gaze, eyes glossed over with the satisfaction of a good feed.

“Do you want me to take care of you?” You ask, moving against his thick length as you wince from the overwhelming sensation. He’s silent for a moment before shaking his head, giving you a smile that reveals normally white teeth stained red while his lips are cherry red.

“No. I’m okay. That was good enough for me.” Hoseok slurs, tongue licking along his teeth and removing some of the blood. You chuckle lightly, your own limbs feeling heavy from his feeding as you rest your cheek against his shoulder.

Feeding Hoseok often left you tired, a result of the loss of blood, and it often left Hoseok blood drunk. He said it was because of the pleasure, which was not only more flavourful but also acted in a similar fashion to alcohol and left him in a slightly inebriated mind.

His own cheek rests against your head lightly, the both of you too tired from your activities in the cooling water. “We should move.” Hoseok murmurs, the sound quiet and filled with sleepiness. Smiling, you heave yourself out of the water and encourage him out too.

He’s wobbly on his legs, but you both manage to get to the large bed where you slump under the covers, the thick comforters hiding you both from the world and making a small cocoon of warmth and love. Hoseok does nothing for a moment before he’s rolling onto his side, tugging you over to him and pressing your back to his front.

Smiling softly, you feel him press a firm kiss to your hair before you slip into a comfortable sleep in the arms of your husband.

-

The first week of reunion with Hoseok passes by quickly, and as usual it is a stressful yet pleasurable time. Six months of celibacy and longing often combine in explosive results in the bedroom, a spell to mute noise often necessary to hide the moans and groans of desire and need that seep into the walls.

It meant that it was often hard to focus on your work, particularly when you had the knowledge that your husband was right there. Meals were often strained and awkward, filled with a tension that your servants assumed to be irritation when in fact it was clenched thighs, whispered spells of touches and glares that promised retribution when you returned to your rooms.

But still, life would not stop with the arrival of your husband and you were forced to continue on with your daily activities. Tuesday’s were for meeting your advisors and discussing the general issues that were causing a problem amongst the citizens of your kingdom.

Wednesday’s were spent receiving updates about the neighbouring kingdoms and those further afield, learning the newest information that filtered through from both natural channels and those more secretive ones.

Thursday’s were the day that your subjects were allowed to seek an audience with you, proposing solutions to problems or presenting conflicts that they wanted you to resolve. It was often tedious, and some days you just wanted to stay in bed or go to your garden and be done with it all.

But that was not what a monarch did.

This was precisely the reason that Hoseok always had to make the journey to Hekatalia, for the vampire prince was not needed in his kingdom to the degree that you were. You, however, were most definitely needed to keep order. Not to mention that you couldn’t stray too far from the Ancient Oak for too long, which served not only as a site of marriage but also as a natural connection to the source of magic.

As such, the first week was filled with sex of all kinds until you had both gotten it out of your systems before you both settled into the comfortable, yet confined, life you had both adjusted to over the years.

Your time with Hoseok was often limited to behind the doors of your bedroom, and you so desperately wished for more with him. As a queen, you never expected to have a normal relationship. But you certainly expected to at least be able to touch him in public.

Your hope that your relationship would be accepted increased every year with the gradual acceptance of your husband. He wasn’t welcome in discussions with your advisors, but he had slowly begun to take on more a role expected of a Prince Consort and to your delight, he was not being pushed away.

But you were still unsure as to public displays of affection.

Which is why if you hadn’t favoured Soyeon before, then you most certainly did when she informed you that she had managed to secure you an entire afternoon and evening free of obligations after two months had passed. A whole half of a day that could be spent with Hoseok alone, which was more time in one go than you’d experienced in ten years.

Excitement had bubbled in your stomach as the both of you had mounted your horses. You had decided to take him on a ride to get him out of the castle, to go somewhere where you truly would not be bothered by prying eyes. As such, a black cloak was wrapped around your shoulders while the hood covered head and a dark green scarf was raised over your lower face.

Hoseok had frowned at the regalia as he’d donned his own cloak and scarlet red scarf, the colour making his beauty even more apparent even if you could only see his eyes, but you’d reassured him it was fine. This was the standard attire of travellers in Hekatalia, and no one would raise a brow at the sight of you both.

He’d bowed his head in acknowledgement, acquiescing to you and your knowledge before a click of his tongue and a tap of his heels encouraged his tall, steel grey steed into a brisk walk, hooves clopping loudly on the cobblestones. Nodding towards Soyeon, you reached out and clasped her hand tightly while you thanked her and promised that you would both be back by nightfall.

She smiled at you, bowing her head down and returning to the castle as you encouraged your own dark bay mare after your husband. You liked to ride when you had time, and the prospect of riding with your husband had an almost childish feeling bubbling your stomach. Trotting to catch up, you noted with pleasure the exquisite picture he drew as he rode with a confidence that told of years of riding experience.

Black breeches clung to his toned legs, muscles that had been gained from years upon years of exercise while his familiar knee high leather boots rested against the horse’s side. He sat straight as an arrow, his riding posture textbook perfect as the leather reins sat in his hands lightly.

Perhaps no one would give you a second glance given your attire, but they might give a second glance given his posture. There was no doubt that Hoseok was a man who had been trained extensively on how to ride a horse, his breeding showing despite the hood that covers him.

It was unbelievably sexy for some reason though, and you couldn’t help but bite your lip breathlessly as you finally caught up to him. Your husband often managed to turn you in ways that you hadn’t thought were even turn ons until he appeared in your life. Even before you’d confessed your feelings to each other fifty years ago.

He looks over with a dark brow raised in question at your expression and you stare at him for a moment, taking in the sight of his chocolate half-moon eyes that soften as he watches you in turn. Without a word, he reaches over and clasps a hand with one of yours, squeezing tightly before letting go.

Smiling to yourself beneath the scarf, your shoulders straighten as you feel a weight being lifted off them. Taking the lead, you keep on riding until you finally direct Hoseok to the Oak Grove that holds the Ancient Oak your race reveres so much.

Due to being a vampire, Hoseok was often confined to the castle even more than you were when he was here. Though he had no actual restrictions on him, it your people were not very likely to accept him walking around freely, and so he voluntarily chose to stay within the castle walls.

It surely had to drive him mad to not do the activities he was so used to,  but he simply shrugged and pointed out that he had no choice, so there was no point in whining. Though you had noted in recent years that he had slowly begun to venture further in the grounds, and he had even gone to the village at the foot of the castle last month.

There had been no screaming or fear from your subjects, and it had warmed you to hope that perhaps they may be accepting him finally. Stil, his lack of knowledge outside of the castle walls meant that he had no idea where anything was and so he willingly followed you with trust.

Turning, you watch as he catches sight of the giant tree that takes up most of the clearing, his eyes widening as he takes it in. The surrounding forest is even taller, forming a perfect circle of protection around the tree that provided your people with life sustaining magic.

The pillowy soft grass blew softly in the gentle breeze, bringing with it the scent of flowers and rain. It hadn’t rained in days, yet you knew the magic of the Oak Grove meant that strange things happened sometimes.

“Isn’t that…” He trails off, slowing his horse down with a gentle tug on the reins until his stallion stops, head shaking in annoyance and jangling the metal bit in his mouth. You watch for a moment before smiling, tugging down your scarf and nodding.

“It is. This is where we got married. It’s a sacred place to witches, and we shall find peace and quiet here tonight.” You grin at him, swinging a leg over your mares rump and landing in the grass with a soft thud. Bringing her over to a branch of a nearby tree that was often used to hitch horses, you watch as Hoseok does the same while looking around the grove in fascination.

“But...won’t people be coming here to get married?” Hoseok asks in confusion, brows creasing and his lips moving into a pout as he lowers his own scarf. Moving over to him, you slide your hands under his cloak and jacket until you’re hugging him tightly, resting your chin against his chest with a sweet smile.

“Nope. All marriages have to be approved by the Witch Court and overseen by a priestess, and there are none scheduled for today. Soyeon checked and double checked. The Ancient Oak is sacred to my people and is one of the major source points for our magic, so it is strictly prohibited to be here when there is no marriage taking place.”

He looks around for a moment, mahogany eyes taking in the impressive sight. You love to come here when he’s back in Sanguinus, the area quiet and peaceful. The magic here tingles on your skin, like tiny kisses of appreciation from nature and you look around, trying to see it how he does.

The tall forest that surrounds you cuts off a large portion of light, sunbeams drifting down lazily through the canopy. There’s enough light here to see easily though, but the Oak Grove needs no sun to look beautiful. The very magic that sustains your race causes the Ancient Oak to emit an ethereal glow, the wood almost tinged in a blue-white light while the leaves are dotted with tiny sparks of light that twinkle at all times of day.

A small smile tugs at Hoseok’s lips before he looks back down at you with a sardonic expression. “Except for the queen I’m guessing?”

You laugh lightly at his words, pulling away before taking his hand and twining your fingers together firmly. Hoseok immediately grips it tighter and you can’t help but feel happiness and contentment bubble in your veins at being able to do this out in the open.

What must it feel like? To love him freely?

“Of course. I am connected to this tree as the medium of magic for witchkind, so therefore I am allowed here whenever I so feel like,” Turning around, you walk backwards with a small hop of joy as you give him the brightest smile of glee that produces a responding expression from him almost involuntarily. “And I wanted to bring my husband here. I don’t get to give you anything in the castle...but I can bring you to one of the most important and sacred places to me here.”

Sitting down amongst the roots of the solid tree, dragging your fingers through the rich soil with reverance, you watch as he stands with hands on his hips and looks up at the arching branches with a soft smile.

“I hated this place when I first came here, perhaps unsurprisingly. This tree was the representation of everything I should despise as a vampire. The source of your magic and the source of my pain being wedded to you. Vampires for centuries have plotted how to destroy this you know.”

He’s quiet for a moment, reaching out and placing a hand on the wizened trunk, stroking along the bark slowly. Biting your lip, you look from his neutral face to his hand. “And now?”

He says nothing before letting out a quiet snort of laughter, kneeling down in the fragrant blades of grass to press a loving kiss to your forehead. “Now? I see its beauty; the strength in its age and the sensation of sheer power it gives. It’s truly a physical representation of you. And I love it, because you love it and I love you. And even though I was angry that day, this tree oversaw the most important day of my life.”

Hoseok sits next to you, resting his back against the old trunk and wrapping an arm around your shoulders, tugging you closer to him. For minutes, neither of you speak in the comfortable silence that falls between the two of you. You focus simply on the soothing sensation of his fingers as they trace invisible words against your arm while the forest sings a gentle song for you both.

“Show me some magic, wife.” He whispers into your ear, his cool nose pressing against your temple momentarily before warm lips replace it. You didn’t perform magic very often, which was probably a surprise to the other kingdoms. But you simply didn’t feel a need, and it was rude to use it unnecessarily. Which meant Hoseok hadn’t witnessed many spells from you over the years.

But you feel like pleasing him today, wanting to impress him with something pretty that wouldn’t pull too much energy. Whispering a quiet request to the Ancient Oak you’re pressed against, you breathe a simple spell under your breath.

Immediately, tiny balls of light drift down from the leaves above you to form the impression of two people, standing together in a handfasting ceremony. You don’t need to explain to him who it is a representation of, and instead you both watch quietly as the couple lean forward and kiss.

“I wish I had kissed you back then, though it would have seemed strange. I wish I could kiss you now, in public.” Hoseok sighs, sadness weaving its way in and you resolve to make him smile. Shifting around, you playfully bite at his neck with your blunt incisors, the sensation probably just a tickle to him compared to his sharp teeth.

Sure enough, he lets out a giggle that’s far too cute for a man as regal as him before wrapping his arms tightly around shoulders and chest, trapping you between his thighs as he shifts. His hands move down to your sides, insistent fingers tickling along the sensitive areas and causing you to almost shriek with laughter.

The sounds of glee and happiness echo around the quiet grove, and you feel a shift in the magic around you. It’s fond and filled with a sense of joy at the love between yourself and your husband. Your stomach twists with cheer at the knowledge that nature approves.

After a few minutes of laughter and play, you lean against him as you both take a breather. He presses a kiss to your neck softly before letting his fangs run over your skin, the sharpness almost a scratch over the delicate flesh.

“You’re adorable, with your little baby fangs. In fact, they’re not even baby fangs. Vampire children have sharper teeth than that.” He teases, letting his lips press against the soft skin there. You smile and click your fingers, causing him to yelp as a zing of magic zaps his ass.

“Mean,” He mutters before kissing your neck once more, his hands stroking along your stomach lowly. “I wonder what our children’s teeth would look like.” The words are quiet, almost as if he spoke them out loud without thinking.

The way you both freeze suddenly let you think that is likely exactly what happens before he’s squeezing tight, pressing his forehead against your shoulder. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought that up.”

Children remained a sore point between the two of you. It was something neither of you had ever truly considered when you had first wedded, the thought of sleeping with him abhorrent. It had remained a non-thought for thirty years once you finally got together, until twenty years ago when you had both decided to try.

A pregnancy had occurred almost immediately, pleasing the both of you while simultaneously terrifying you. It was understood between you both that Hoseok would only see his child half of the year, but the two of you had wanted so badly to have a family. Upon learning of your pregnancy, the two of you had agreed to announce it, and your feelings, to both kingdoms at the halfway stage.

There was little chance of miscarriage at that point, and it had been an exciting prospect. A child would surely unify both races, or at least be a good starting point to true reconciliation.

And so at the three month mark, Hoseok had left back to Sanguinus in his carriage and you had watched from your window, a hand resting on your flat stomach. The knowledge that he would likely be back in time for the birth had been a consolation, even if he was sad to not experience the joys of watching you grow fat and heavy with his child.

And then the curse had kicked in.

It had been a heavy heart, and heavier tears, that you had written to your husband. The note had been simple, coded in case anyone read it due to the rarity of correspondence between you both.

‘Dear Husband,

The little bird did not make it. No spell could combat the curse that took it.

I am sorry.’

Neither of you had considered the curse in terms of children. Not until it was too late. Not until you were no longer pregnant.

The curse demanded that you spend six months apart, causing physical pain to ensure it was obeyed. As his child, the babe in your stomach was half him and the curse could not distinguish between this. The pain had not been as strong as it was with Hoseok himself, but it had been too much for the tiny life you’d carried.

You had mourned for six months, until he had arrived and then you had mourned with him in private. There had never been another attempt, and there likely never would be. Your dreams of a family had died that day.

Resting a hand on his arm, you cuddle further into him before taking a deep breath. You have not spoken of children in twenty years. “I think they would be heart wrenchingly adorable, with tiny fangs and little spells that would pop and crack.”

As you speak, the lights spin in a dizzying dance before forming two small children. The both of you watch in a despondent silence as they bound along the meadow sweet grass, a simple and sweet dream that cannot ever be.

Hoseok doesn't say anything for a few long minutes, only swallowing thickly. “You would have made a wonderful mother. I still regret asking you to do it, the pain you suffered while I was not there. It wasn't worth it.”

Shaking your head, you shift in his arms until you can see his arresting profile. His eyes are a low, dull red that glisten in the evening sun that peeks through the trunks of the forest.

“No, don't say that. It hurt, but we were happy in that moment. Let's not resent the young one we were forced to lose.” Resting a hand against his chest, you press your forehead to the warm skin of his neck and inhale the soothing scent.

You both simply rest there after that, neither feeling in the mood to interrupt the sad stillness in the air with another topic. The unfortunate fact, is that no matter how much you love each other, your story will always be one of sadness and heartache, tinged with loneliness.

“Would you like to dance?” Hoseok speaks suddenly, the question hovering in the air. Looking up, you note his gaze focused firmly on the light children while a sombre expression is painted on his beautiful face.

Biting your lip, your own gaze tracks around the quiet clearing. “Are you sure? I mean...if you are too upset...and we have no music.”

Your husband laughs darkly before nuzzling your hair affectionately. “This is supposed to be a place of happiness. Let's not sour your sacred tree with sad thoughts. And fear not my queen, we have never had anything but each other. We shall make our own music.”

He stands at that, hands dusting off his breeches before he reaches out one hand to you, pose elegant even when he doesn't intend it to. Looking into his eyes, softened by your mutual sad memories, you nod once before letting him pull you up.

The two of you move into a ballroom dance position with the ease of decades of training, but when you dance it's with the slow passion of lovers. He doesn’t swing you into a complicated waltz or anything, but simply rocks you in a slow circle, his hand running along the laces of your dress at the small of your back reassuringly while his cheek rests on your head.

“I love you. I don't feel that I tell you that often enough. I don't get the chance to tell you that often enough. But I do. I love you fiercely, and if I could find a way to end the curse I would.” Hoseok's voice is quiet, yet strained with emotion he can't possibly vocalise.

Emotion that resonates in your chest almost painfully nonetheless.

“I know. I know Hoseok. I love you just as strongly. It is so hard, to not ask how you are when dealing with your delegation. To find out if you are sad or happy. I wish we could end the curse too, but you know as well as I do that it would just result in more war.” The words are hushed and you cannot help the silent tears that track down your face.

Hoseok holds you even tighter as the light children skip by you, his gaze focused firmly on them and when he speaks, his voice cracks. “I want a life with you so badly. I want to raise a family with you. Neither of us started the war, so why must we be punished even though we have fallen in love? Isn't that the ultimate unification? I wish I could find the Faerie Queen and request an audience, plead our case to her and beg for her to let us love each other openly and permanently.”

You sniffle at his words, bringing your hand up to wipe at your tears pitifully before reaching up to pull his head down till he's resting on your shoulder. The dampness of your dress let's you know he's crying too and you curse anyone you can think of for causing him pain.

What good is being the Witch Queen if you can't even solve your husbands sadness?

“She would never do that Hoseok. It's a punishment, remember? She’d probably laugh with delight at our pain.” He says nothing, acknowledging your words with his silence.

Placing your hands on his slim waist, you begin to hum a witch children's nursery rhyme to him while rocking him in slow and steady motions. He doesn't move at first, but eventually gives in and let's you dance with him in the quiet clearing.

“Let’s not cry anymore husband. You said so yourself, this is a happy place. Dance with me freely, while we have the chance to just be ourselves.” You plead softly, kissing his temple and letting your lips remain there until he lifts himself up with a nod.

Hoseok doesn't say anything further, simply dances with you slowly in the shadow of the Ancient Oak while the tiny children of light dance around your legs playfully.

If you closed your eyes, you could almost imagine it was perfect, and you vowed to find a way to dance with him in the way you both wanted.

-

Something that had been at the forefront of your mind for a while, had been been the fact that this year marked your 100th anniversary with Hoseok. Neither of you had celebrated a single anniversary in the past, mainly because the day Hoseok arrived was always the day the curse activated and so you both were more concerned with getting him rest.

But this year, you’d wanted to celebrate it in some way at least. It was an important milestone, not only in your relationship with each other but also in the relations between both kingdoms. Your anniversary had marked one hundred years of peace between the vampires and witches, and you had decided before he had even arrived to finally celebrate this.

Not only this, but his sadness in the Oak Grove had spurred you on to do something to make him happy, to bring a smile to his face and show him that you loved him and cared for him. It was hard to do that most of the time, with public displays of affection almost impossible.

The time there had inspired you though, and as such you had arranged for an event to occur in the final week of Hoseok’s time here. He had been made completely unaware of it through a lot of subtle subterfuge and instead you had worked behind the scenes with your advisors and event organisers.

The result had culminated in today. You were pleased beyond words that Hoseok hadn’t clicked onto what was happening, instead just presuming that your event meetings were something to do with governance. The peril of having a wife who was a ruler perhaps.

Still, he’d likely just been expecting another day of wandering the castle at his leisure or something. Apparently, he’d made friends with the Captain of the Guard, Jeon Jungkook, and was on the verge of being allowed to participate in military drills on the castle grounds.

It was almost sweet how excited he’d got when telling you, and your heart had overflowed with warmth for him at the fact he seemed to have finally made a friend of some sort here after so long. As your Captain, you were well acquainted with Jungkook, and knew him to be young but well trained and with a good soul and heart.

His father had been the Captain for your own, finally retiring ten years ago to spend more time with his aging family. Jungkook, already heavily involved in the Hekatalian Army, had simply slotted into place with ease. He’d practically been bred for it, with incredibly strong battle magic to boot.

As such, you had grown to know him well when discussing your military and regimental training for the soldiers who resided here in the castle. He was a sweet guy beneath the regalia, and you knew that he was exceptionally easy to get on with which made you feel comfortable in the knowledge that he’d taken Hoseok under his wing.

Hoseok had actually woken you up today though with soft kisses that brushed along your shoulder lightly, the sensation almost tickling. You’d thought for a moment that perhaps he was just feeling amorous, he often was in the morning, but instead he’d kept his touches innocent and sweet.

Once he’d been sure you’d fully woken, a content hum leaving your throat as you cuddled closer into his warmth, he’d laid his head back down on the pillow and ran his hand along your exposed stomach. “There’s a lot of activity in this castle this morning wife.”

You make a faux surprised sound, recognising from his tone that he knows somethings up. While your castle is always busy, you have no doubt that there are even more servants hurrying around today than normal. They had a ballroom to decorate and exquisite meals to cook for the guests who would be arriving later today. Given his enhanced senses, he could probably hear all the hustle and bustle around the place.

Rolling in his arms, you gaze at him wide eyed with an innocence he is evidently not falling for given his narrowed eyes. “I don’t know husband. Why is there more activity than normal?” You ponder playfully, tapping your lips before grinning as he begins to tickle you mercilessly.

“Wife. What is happening?” He laughs out, kissing your cheek when you both finish. You simply watch him for a moment, giving him adoring eyes as you note the flyaway strands of his hair from where it has fallen after his sleep.

Tugging him back down, you face him quietly for a moment as you slide a leg between his own. He shivers slightly at your cold feet, giving you a slight glare but says nothing further as he waits for you to speak.

“We are hosting a ball today. A masquerade ball.” You smile at him, watching as those strong brows come together in confusion. If you looked hard enough, you could probably see his brain working behind those pretty eyes of his.

“Why? It’s just a Saturday, unless there’s some special event I’m not aware of?” After one hundred years of living in Hekatalia for half a year at at time, Hoseok had long grown used to the cultural holidays and events that witches celebrated. He particularly enjoyed Summer Solstice, and often lamented on the fact he could never experience a Winter Solstice with you.

“Well...I don’t know if you remember but this year marks one hundred since the curse was activated. A hundred years of peace between the races and kingdoms. And one hundred years since we married. So I organised a masquerade ball to celebrate this and have invited members from all kingdoms to join us. We have werewolves, faeries and representatives from Sanguinus here too.” He looks at you with eyes that are wide with shock.

“Really? And they’re all coming here? Wow, you’re being brave hoping no one will fight.” He chuckles, the corner of his lips turning up in amusement as he rolls onto his back and stares at the ceiling.

“Well...that’s why it’s a masquerade ball. So no one can tell who is what. Instead, it will just be a joining of peoples to celebrate a monumental achievement,” You pause for a moment before leaning over to press a sweet kiss to his shoulder. “And it also means that we can dance in public. With a legitimate excuse. No one will complain about the queen and her prince consort dancing at a ball to celebrate one hundred years of marriage.”

He looks at you slowly, and you can see the flurry of emotions painting across his face. It’s something that you’ve both wanted to do for so long and your stomach flutters at the prospect of being able to show him of like you have always wanted, even if no one realises that there is true love hidden beneath the faux smiles.

“I can dance with you? When others can see?” The soft and hesitant tone to his voice breaks your heart, causing you to lift yourself until your lips are pressed together in a kiss that is chaste but full of love.

“Yes my love. For a night, we can pretend.” He gives a bright smile then, his entire face lighting up with a sense of joy and merriment that makes you feel content with life. There’s something particularly satisfying about making him smile, and you’re sure that one day you will figure out what that is. But for now, you just enjoy making him happy when you can.

Climbing out of bed, you head towards the door that separates your rooms before turning and giving him a mysterious smile that has a brow rising as he sits up. There’s a pause as you simply admire the stunningly beautiful sight your husband makes on the bed, the red silk sheets giving him a sultry look.

“Attendants will be coming to get a suit and mask sorted for you for the ball. I have meetings to attend unfortunately as the kingdom waits for no ball, but I shall meet you at the staircase tonight. I apologise that we cannot eat together, but there will be food being served at the ball we can partake,” You let your eyes drag over his body slowly, sucking your lip between your teeth and letting it out slowly to let him see how he affects you. “I expect you to be looking particularly handsome tonight.”

He gives a wicked grin, fangs lengthening before your eyes while his eyes spark with a crimson flash. “I will make sure to put extra effort into my appearance. We wouldn’t want it to look like the witch queen has a poor husband now.”

You simply laugh as he wiggles his brows before exiting to your room, excitement for the evening bubbling in your stomach.

-

Your day passes slowly as a result of your enthusiasm, and you can tell that your advisors are amused at your unusually happy demeanour. You’re normally far more careful to maintain a queenly expression when dealing with kingdom matters, even if you spend more time with these people than you do your own husband.

But the elation you feel at finally being able to celebrate your relationship with your husband in public, even if people think it only fake, is too much. To the point that you find yourself not concentrating on your duties and instead decide to postpone your meeting, allowing your advisors an early day to spend with their families or alternatively prepare for the festivities tonight.

Instead, you head towards the ballroom and take in the preparations for yourself. All around you, witches spell decorations to fly into place, sticking to the wall or hovering in the air perfectly. It’s been a long time since you had hosted any sort of event, and it all fills your veins with fizzing excitement at it all.

“Your Majesty, the preparations are almost complete. Will you accompany me back to your rooms and we can have you fitted into your outfit while we make sure your hair and makeup is perfect.” Soyeon smiles at your demurely, bowing slightly as she walks up to you where you stood in the middle of the hall.

Looking down at her, you give a nod of your head and smile back as you follow, hurrying your pace until you are walking abreast with your beloved servant. “Did you follow my advice?” You ask quietly, keeping your voice low so that others waking past.

Soyeon glances to you out of the corner of her eye and you spy the smile of glee that she fights to hold in. Almost immediately, responding excitement bubbles in your stomach and you can’t help but grab at her arm lightly as you giggle.

“Oh, I hope your dress is beautiful. You will look phenomenal Soyeon, truly. What if you find a man tonight? Or a woman? Don’t forget about me when you’re all loved up!” You pout at her playfully, causing her to roll her eyes while a flush of red brushes her cheeks prettily.

“I doubt that will happen Your Majesty. The dress is adequate and I will just enjoy my time there. Thank you for letting me have the night to myself, and for inviting me to the ball. I can never tell you how much I appreciate your kindness.” She whispers fervently, eyes flicking around the hallway to see if there is anyone who could see your affection.

There would likely be people who became jealous and bitter at how you favoured Soyeon, but you were reaching the point where you were beyond caring what others thought. When you were going to live as long as you were, surely there came a point when others opinions would matter little?

Entering your rooms, you pause to glance at the closed wooden door that separated your rooms and bit your lips with a sigh. Soyeon waits for a moment before pressing a hand to your lower back, encouraging you into the room where she begins to undress you quickly.

“I’m sure he will look beautiful, Your Majesty. Prince Hoseok is a handsome man, and you are an incredibly lucky woman.” She murmurs as she carefully folds your dress, ready for it to back into your closet.

Standing before her in simply your underwear, you watch as she takes a new corset out of your wardrobe and wraps it around your waist, tugging at the laces tightly until you are grunting out from the force. Idle talk is made between you both as she continues on, piecing together a dress of sumptuous ruby red that had been outlined in subtle, shimmering silver.

It’s only once your dress is finally complete, giving her a final spin to get the nod of approval, that you sit and allow her to arrange your hair to perfection. Tiny silver flowers get dotted throughout before she sits an exquisite diadem on your forehead, resting the ends in your hair.

The final touch is your makeup, and once she has finished painting a masterpiece on your face, you stand and admire her work in the mirror after she places the mask on you. It’s red, with silver glittering through in elegant lines and covers the portion of your face from your nose to just above your eyebrows. Giving her a huge grin, you turn slowly and admire everything she has put together.

“Perfect Soyeon, you have a true eye for fashion and makeup. Now go, you must get ready yourself. I can make my way to the staircase, he should be waiting by now.” You peer at the clock on the mantlepiece, noting the time is past when you had asked him to wait.

A quick glance out of the window lets you see carriages slowly filtering through the courtyard and guests dressed in the finest dresses and suits entering the castle. Smiling to yourself, you rest a hand on your chest as you watch for a few moments before looking yourself over in the mirror once more.

The dress is cinched in at the waist, your curves emphasised by the corset while your breasts are more prominent than they would normally be due to cut of the material. Silk is smooth and cool to your touch as you run your fingers along the material that rests at your stomach, noting with pleasure the way the dress flatters your figure.

Tonight, there will be no brows raised at your choice to wear silver and red. For it would be expected to wear the colours of both kingdoms, given that this is a celebration of peace between the two.

Making your way through the hallways, you tilt your head when you begin to hear the soft sounds of a string quartet filtering through the quietness and you can’t help the sway of your hips to the sounds. As you near, the music gets louder along with raucous laughter and constant talking between your guests.

Reaching the top of the elegant marble staircase that takes up the grand entrance, you pause for a moment to rest a hand on the marble edging and look over the room. The crystal chandelier is glowing with a beautiful luminance, casting shadows that are thrown around the room beautifully while more candles light up every corner below.

The center of the room has now been taken up with an elegant ice sculpture, a replica of the Ancient Oak that inhabits the Oak Grove. A few guests entering through the doors notice you above them and you spy as they immediately begin to gossip amongst themselves while giving you a courteous bow of the head.

But your attention is caught immediately by the lone figure at the bottom of the stairs to your right, his figure straight and regal. His outfit matches yours perfectly, with black trousers clinging to his legs and black leather boots winding their way up his calves, silver buckles and lining matching the deep red laces.

His waistcoat is charcoal while his shirt looks to be black silk, an equally dark tie around his neck that fits perfectly. A deep, velvet crimson jacket sits on his shoulders and you smile at the silver and black patterns that run through it subtly. Hoseok’s own mask is a perfectly replica of your own, and you feel pride at the knowledge that no one would ever mistake you both as being anything other than the couple of importance tonight.

Ignoring the guests as they arrive, you keep your gaze firmly on him as he rolls his head on his shoulders to relieve some tension before he lets out a sigh you could probably hear if you had his senses. But then he pauses, and you can tell he’s spotted you.

Almost immediately, a bright smile takes over the only part of his face that is visible and your stomach twists pleasantly at the sight. Ideally, he shouldn’t look too happy to see you but you find yourself uncaring as you slowly make your way down the stairs, one hand holding your skirts to keep them from trailing while the other glides along the bannister.

Hoseok moves to greet you immediately, bowing low until you reach him upon which he reaches out for your hand. Placing it within his, you give him a simple smile that tells him so much and he grins in response as he wraps your arm around his.

“You look beautiful wife.” He whispers, his voice as low as he can make it while still ensuring that you win. As he speaks, he glances around for any other vampires but it’s futile with the masks that cover everyone’s faces.

“And so do you husband. I’m glad that you followed my request.” You tease lightly, voice bubbly with glee and he lets out a low laugh as his head nods forward, his perfectly styled hair swept off his forehead.

“Of course. Shall we enter our ball Your Majesty?” He states loudly, drawing attention from those who are entering the castle for the first time. Smiling demurely at the crowd, you nod your head and move with him to the doors of the ballroom.

Inside, the room from earlier is ablaze with life and you pause to take it in. Thousands of candles hover high in the air, their wicks burning brightly in the final rays of evening sun that shines through the stained glass windows while their corresponding partners dot the room at various points.

All along the edges are tables and chairs, allowing guests the chance to sit and relax while the left side is taken up with one long table that is currently piled high with exquisite food. Almost instantly your mouth starts to water at the sight and you desperately want to pull Hoseok over there to eat, but you know that you must greet your guests first.

Decades of royalty training has imprinted wel upon Hoseok and you as you make your way around the room, talking to guests all of all walks of life and all races. The vampires are a little cold towards you but you are surprised by how genial they are overall, leaving you to wonder if perhaps the relations were always a little colder on your side than his.

Their conversations with you are geared more towards their surprise at exploring your kingdom, and you wonder how strange it must be to some of them. Travellers from Sanguinus and Hekatalia did not visit each others lands very often, and it was a tiny hope of yours that once relations warmed up between the two there could be the opportunity for more travelling.

Hoseok had told you many wonderful tales of the land Sanguinus held, from the rolling desert planes of the west to the rocky, snow topped mountains of the east. Hekatalia was not as diverse in its geography, and instead was simply covered in either forests or fields. Nature was simple here and had always been cultivated into magic used by its inhabitants.

Land like Hoseok’s was wilder, with the magic going haywire and causing vast differences in land and temperature. The way he talked about his home, and the wistfulness in his voice made you long to visit them so much. But you knew that was definitely impossible.

A queen simply did not take holidays in land that was not her own.

Your own subjects were polite towards Hoseok thankfully, giving him a regal bow and affording him the same respect they give you which pleases you. They don’t make for the most mentally stimulating conversations however. Unfortunately, most Hekatalian citizens are far too polite to spend too long talking to their queen.

If they spent too long with you, then it could look like you favour them over others which could generate a whole host of issues neither you nor they want.

It was the visitors from neither kingdom that are the nicest however, and you find yourself smiling truthfully when a group of werewolf guests compliment your home while also congratulating you both on a long marriage.

A rather upfront werewolf asks for a dance with you later and you cannot help the soft snort of laughter at his boldness. You don’t even need to look at your husband to see that he is bristling, metaphorical fur on edge as he gives the most polite and yet rudest smile you’ve ever seen on him.

He’s the perfect husband of a monarch however and says nothing that could be a diplomatic incident. Though you won’t lie, he probably didn’t endear himself either but the tenseness that you can feel in his arm lets you know it’s probably the best you’re going to be able to get with him.

The Master of Ceremonies officially announces the beginning to the ball and you watch from the side as couples from all over the room began to line up on the dance floor. Glancing to Hoseok, you noted the way his eyes focused firmly on the people dancing to the smooth beat of the music and give a small smile before nudging him gently.

“Would you like to dance husband?” You ask softly, your voice barely heard over the soaring music of the string quartet and the excitable chatter of the guests. He jerks at the sound of your voice, looking to you and you marvel for a moment at how astonishingly beautiful he looks. Even with half his face covered.

If anything, the mask makes the exquisite line of his jaw even more prominent and you swallow thickly at the sight of him in the golden glow of the nearby candles. His tongue flicks out, wetting those plush lips before his mouth kicks up into a tiny smile as he nods.

“I would be honoured, wife.” At that, he takes the lead and moves into the centre of the ballroom. Almost immediately, you feel the people surrounding you shift as awareness of who has entered their midst seeps in, but you can’t focus on anything other than Hoseok.

His spine is straight, and he almost towers above you in a manner that would be frightening if you didn’t know him. But the warm, tender way he rests his hand against your lower back and holds your other, with a touch more sensual than he perhaps should, has you feeling safe and protected by him.

You have no doubt that if anyone tried to hurt you right now, he would fight to his final breath to save you even if he is in the knowledge that you are more than capable yourself. A desperate urge rises within you suddenly, so deep and strong that you have to bite your lip to stop it, to rest your head against his enticing chest.

Instead, he leads you in a dance that is centuries old, his feet moving in perfect succession around the floor as you follow him with trained steps. You have no idea the spectacle you both make, and you don’t even notice the way people look between themselves with speculative brows raised.

You don’t know, because your gaze is firmly trapped in his like a moth to a flame. The ballroom almost goes hazy as you dance, bodies moving together as one until you can’t tell where you end and he begins. His own breath is coming a little faster from the exertion, but also from the sheer feelings you both portray with a simple gaze.

It would shock you both to see how you were dancing, as if no one else in the room even existed and with touches that spoke of an intimacy learnt over decades.

You both dance through endless songs, the hunger in your stomach battling with the need in your veins to take him away and let him savour you in a much more intimate way than the light affection he looks at you with now. In fact, it’s only when a passing dancer accidentally bumps into your back that the two of you are broken out of your reverie, blinking rapidly before looking away from each other with heated cheeks.

Pulling away, Hoseok quietly directs you to table of food that lines the side of the hall. Smiling at him shyly, you wonder if this is how lovers who court openly feel.

It’s at the table that you both fall back into your usual roles of cold politeness, the both of you separating to forage for food in an attempt to dispel any notions that your guests may have. From the furtive glances between you both, you worry for a moment that perhaps you may have a problem on your hand with gossip.

Gossip tended to twist things into negativity, and most stories became wildly obscure compared to their origins. There was every chance that after tonight, you could have five secret love children with him if you were not careful.

Though positive reception to that would perhaps precipitate being open about your relationship.

In an effort to deflect any attention, you spend the next hour moving from one group of people to the next on your own, giving genial smiles and accepting compliments about your home, your kingdom, the ball and your husband with a grace that has been trained into you since birth.

It is tiring however, and you forgot how intensive events such as balls are. A quick glance at the grand clock that hangs on the centre wall lets you know that you have been here for three hours already and the soreness of your feet tell you that it has been a very long three hours. You have the biggest urge to simply throw your heels away and go barefoot, but that would most definitely raise brows amongst the aristocracy who dance and chat around you.

“You look tired Your Majesty,” Comes a deep voice from next to you, and you look across with a carefully blank expression. It’s the wolf from before, the only giveaway to his identity being the extravagant black and white mask that only covers half of his face. You presume him to be handsome underneath the mask, given the beautiful jawline you can see at the moment. “But would it be remiss of me to request that dance I asked for earlier?”

He holds out a hand and you pause, eyes flickering around to find Hoseok only to fail in finding the black, silver and red outfit anywhere. Bowing your head regally, you place your hand in his own and allow him to lead you out to the dance floor.

The song now is slower, more suited to intimate couples you note as you look around you and you feel a pang in your stomach for your husband. You would love to be able to slow dance with him around the hall, but figure that you have danced enough with him for the moment.

It certainly would not take a genius to note the difference in your dance with this stranger, given the stiffness of your posture and the large gap you make sure to maintain between you both. Giving him a stiff smile, you decide to be polite and make small conversation.

“Forgive me, I don’t know your name.” Pausing, you leave him plenty of space to fill the opening and he takes it with ease, a sweet, gummy smile on his face.

“Min Yoongi, of the Lunatus Pack. And you need no introduction, my beautiful witch queen.” His tone is playful and you can’t help but smile at his infectious happiness, letting him twirl you around in an overly extravagant manner.

“Lunatus Pack? The ruling class of the Lupine nation. How interesting, I was told that no one high up in our werewolf brethen was able to make it tonight.” You ponder idly, eyes glancing around the room to try and find a red mask.

Yoongi hums lowly, his eyes focused on something over your shoulder that you can’t see and if you’d been paying attention, you would note the way his lips kick up in an amused smirk. “I’m not high up in the Pack, that is likely why. But how could I resist a chance to visit Hekatalia and see the infamous Witch Queen and her Vampire Prince?”

Leaning away, you raise a brow at him sardonically. “Are we a tourist attraction now or something? Interesting, most people in my kingdom seem patently uninterested in my husband.”

He lets out a quiet laugh, before spinning you suddenly, his hands much lower than you were comfortable with. Lifting them, you give him a firm look that has him tittering with bemusement. “An attraction? No. But you are famous. And does that mean they are as uninterested in him as you are in each other? Because if so, he must be exceptionally popular here.”

You say nothing for a few beats of music, letting an awkward silence fill the gap until you finally question what he means by that. Another laugh leaves him, and you find yourself feeling slightly uncomfortable, even though he is perfectly nice.

“I had been told that the Witch Queen hated her Vampire Prince husband, and that the feelings were mutual. And yet...the way you danced with each other tonight. That was with an intimacy borne of lovers, and the way you looked at each other reminded me of how my parents look at each other,” He stalled for a moment, hands tightening in their place on you. “I do not believe you hate each other as much as you wish everyone to believe. Nor do I think others believe that anymore, and nor do I think it’s such a terrible thing.”

Panic stirs in your stomach at his words and you look for Hoseok with anxiety flitting in your veins. That is, until his words sink into your skin and you look at him in a new light. “What do you mean? We were married under duress, and our peoples would never accept a love between two races.”

The words sound weak even to you, causing him to snort. “Oh sure. Maybe a hundred years ago that would have been true. But there have been one hundred, long, years of peace between your peoples. I’m sure there will be people unhappy...but you seem to be a beloved queen. I doubt your people would begrudge you finding happiness and love in the marriage you were forced into, with the man you will spend an eternity with.”

You can’t find the words to respond to that, emotion choking your throat tightly and you blink rapidly at the ceiling to hold back tears. Was he right? Would people accept Hoseok for you? Could you love openly and freely?

“And it would be a truly, stupid man to not want to love a woman as beautiful and kind as you.” He speaks these words louder for some reason and you frown, until you suddenly feel a warmth against your back that is familiar and comforting.

“Hello Min Yoongi. Strange to see a Lunatus Prince here. I’ve been talking to the Captain of the Guard, Jeon Jungkook, and apparently no one from Lunatus responded that they would be joining us today.” Hoseok’s voice is freezingly polite, each syllable bitten out and you look at him out of the corner of your eye.

He’s not normally this rude, but you note with amusement the way his eyes glow a soft red under his mask while his kissable lips are pressed into a straight line. Yoongi lets go of you with a smile, bowing at his waist to press a kiss to your hand in thanks.

“Apologies Your Majesty. Our dance has been cut short, and please forgive me for concealing my identity. I’m sure you can understand the need to simply be free sometimes,” He gives you a warm smile that you find yourself responding with but he nods to your husband. “Remember my advice. I wish you both well for now and the future.”

At that, he turns and departs, winding his way through the crowd. You watch him go quietly before turning to Hoseok, giggling inside at the sight of the glare on his face. It pained you to not be able to tease him so openly, but if you were correct in your belief, then Hoseok was jealous. Something he never had to consider normally, as even with the disdain for your husband the people of Hekatalia still respected your marriage vows.

“Is there a problem husband?” You ask, voice airy with just a hint of playfulness that causes his eyes to narrow at you. The sight of his jaw clenching and the cherry in his eyes has your thighs squeezing in response, breath hitching every so slightly.

His eyes flicker down to your mouth, noting the way your lips part before they drag to your eyes, no doubt blown out at the blatant display of possessiveness your husband is portraying. Almost instantly, his own jaw clenches and you almost moan out at the sight of the muscles working beneath smooth skin.

“I believe I am ready to retire for the night wife. Are you ready to retire?” He asks, his tone perfectly polite and neutral without a hint of the blatant lust in his eyes. Nodding in a daze, you give an affirmative and begin to follow him out of the ballroom.

It’s infuriating how slow you get through the crowd, continuously accepting praise for the event along with gracious goodbyes and wishes of well being to you both until finally you are free. Soyeon is stood in the corner of the entranceway, laughing beautifully with a young woman in a dress of emerald green and you watch them both momentarily before moving on.

The both of you ascend the staircase with far more grace and poise than you are feeling, and you are thankful that it is common for the host of the ball to leave early. Fashionably late to arrive and fashionably early to leave. It would continue on for hours in the ballroom, but you find yourself uncaring.

Not when you are watching the way your husband strides down the hallway, his long legs eating up the ground while his shoulders sway in an unconscious swagger. The vampires are always an elegant race, but your husband moves with the predatory hunger of a tiger shifter.

It makes your legs quiver with anticipation while a slick wetness dampens the silk between your legs already, breathing a little harder than normal. You know he can hear it, and it turns you on even more to know that he’s likely enjoying the sounds of your need.

Reaching your quarters, you watch with hungry eyes as Hoseok pauses outside of his door before opening it slowly and turning to face you. His mask is still pressed to his face, and you have the strongest urge to take it off him to let you see the captivating beauty that had stolen your heart long ago.

Instead, you enter his room quietly, your demeanour meek in the way that he so loves and you hear the slow hiss of breath from behind you as he stays where he is, a quiet hitting sound letting you know he’s let his head flop back against the wooden door until you hear the soft click of it closing.

There’s no sounds now, the faint whisper of music that had drifted from the ballroom disappearing once the door closes and you whisper a spell of silence to keep the rooms quiet. A silencing spell is normally placed around them anyway, but you have a feeling that tonight is going to be particularly special and you shiver with anticipation.

Turning slowly, you watch as your husband rests against the door with his gaze firmly focused on you. Taking the initiative to keep quiet for him, you run your eyes over his slim body and can’t help the automatic flex of your hands as they itch to touch him.

You don’t even need to see him well to know that his sensitive eyes caught that tiny movement, not when the corner of his lips turn up in a smirk that speaks of sex and desire.

“Did you enjoy your little dance with Min Yoongi, wife?” He asks, tone carefully neutral and you watch him vigilantly to try and detect his tiny tells. Your husband has always been phenomenal at hiding his emotions, and with the extravagant mask covering his face you find yourself at a loss.

“It was acceptable. He asked earlier and I finally accepted. It would have been rude not to.” You could dissuade his jealousy easily by simply explaining your conversation with the werewolf prince, but you find yourself unwilling. Because it is so rare to see him possessive like this, and you desperately want him to ravage you the way he obviously wants to.

Your words do nothing to appease him and you watch with pleasure as he bares his teeth, jaw working and you can tell he can’t figure out what to do for a moment. It’s pleasing, working him like this in tiny nudges until he will give you what you want. In your kingdom, Hoseok was practically powerless while you had the strain of unlimited power.

It was with great pleasure and excitement that you readily handed the reins of power to Hoseok in the bedroom, succumbing to his desires and wants with a submission that you could never reveal in your daily life. Which is why when he begins to stalk towards you, his eyes a dark crimson, that you shudder with need.

“Very well wife. I would be an unsuitable husband if I dictate who you could speak to, and I have no interest in hobbling you in that manner. It would be unseemly of me to undercut you like that. But I find myself with a desperate need to show you that you are mine, no matter what anyone else in that damnable ballroom believes.” He growls, voice low in his throat until each word is almost rasping out of his throat.

Hoseok is upon you now, moving so close that there is nary a centimetre between you both, forcing you to have to crane your head back on your neck to see him. He doesn’t let up, barely lowering his head and you almost whine with need for him.

“Am I going to get my good girl tonight? Or am I going to have punish you for being naughty?” You’ve never understood how vampires can do that strange hissing sound that they make, but the way it winds through his words and deep into the primal fear you have has your eyelashes fluttering shut while you let out the tiniest moan.

“I’ll be a good girl for you. I swear.” Mostly.

He says nothing for a moment, simply watching you with eyes that speak of a great need that only you can satisfy. You almost whine at him petulantly as he smirks down at you, fully aware that he has you exactly where he wants you.

“Good. Now, let’s see what is only for my eyes.” He stands back suddenly, leaving you cold and desperate for his touch on your skin. You’re momentarily confused until you follow his eyes down to your dress, noting the way your breasts are pushed together enticingly in the beautiful fabric.

Chewing on your lip while giving him big doe eyes, you reach behind yourself and tug on the ribbons that keep your dress in place. It’s hard to undress yourself, but Soyeon has always made it so that it is possible if you try hard enough.

Only, the position must set off something deep within your husband because he darts forward faster than your eyes can track and there’s a sudden, loud rip of fabric that echoes in the room. Pausing, you look down with widened eyes to see the beautiful dress torn open, silk hanging in tatters to leave your breasts exposed under his watchful gaze.

The tight corset that holds your waist in tightly prevents him from seeing the full expanse of your chest and he bares his teeth in annoyance at the sight. That doesn’t stop him from lowering his head though, trailing his tongue along your collarbones in a molten trail of lust that has your knees quaking as you grasp onto his jacket.

Your husband has always known how to use his mouth to turn you into a wreck under him, like a god of desire whose sole purpose is to simultaneously torture and send you into another plane of existence with pleasure.

That talented mouth is currently sucking a deep bruise into the flesh above your breasts, his hands cupping the fleshy mounds while his thumbs circle the hardened nubs of your nipples, the feeling almost painful until you groan at him, tugging at his hair in a motion that can’t decide whether you want him to move away or get closer.

A dark laugh leaves him, his breath brushing against the wet trails of your skin and causing you to shiver from the cold. At the movement, he abandons his oral assault on you to simply track his mouth back north, the sharpened points of his fangs scratching against your skin in a tantalising way.

In a brutal show of the strength his race is so famed for, Hoseok bends down and lifts you up until your breasts are level with his wandering mouth. A squeal of laughter leaves you as you grasp the strands of his silky hair tightly for balance while he focuses his attention on laving his cravings on your breasts, hot mouth licking and sucking any inch of skin he can reach until finally he’s sucking a nipple into his mouth, the sheer heat of his wet mouth causing your head to drop back as you gasp out.

The movement has you wobbling and he grunts, moving with a speed that still shocks you until you’re landing on the soft covers, the silk embracing your body in a cold that contrasts deeply with the heat of his mouth. Hoseok isn’t bothered by the change in position though and instead focuses again on the hardened bud, tongue flicking out to play with it but his lips wrap around it to suck deeply.

It’s almost as if your breasts are directly connected to your vagina as each pull of his mouth has a corresponding throb of your inner muscles until you whine softly, wanting to push at his head but knowing full well that he will punish you if you try and make him do what he doesn’t want to. And yet, the thought of the punishment has even more wetness trickling between your legs under your dress.

“Good girl.” He whispers against your skin and you want to cry in relief as he sits up, legs straddling your waist in a sight so sexy it makes you delirious with want. Hoseok smirks as your breath hitches before reaching forward and playing with the destroyed threads of your dress.

It’s with barely a flinch of effort on his face that he rips the dress from you in sections, tugging the ruined material out from under you to throw it in the corner. You pout lightly as he grasps the edge of the corset, playfulness taking the edge of his emotions in his eyes as he rips that too.

“They have laces for a reason husband.” You admonish lightly, raising a brow as you lay before him with nothing but a pair of damp silk panties on and your mask. He snorts in response, shrugging as he throws the corset away and looks upon your body like it’s a feast and he’s a starving man.

“You have assistants for a reason wife.” His words are quiet and unfocused, causing you to tut at him lightly. Hoseok’s eyes flicker to you at that, causing you to bite your lip in an innocent expression.

“So fucking beautiful. And mine.” He practically vibrates with possessiveness as he leans forward, using just a finger to snap your panties from you and leave you exposed to him completely. He doesn’t do anything to you for a moment though, instead just lets you feel the tantalising light touch of his breath against your centre and you wiggle slightly with unrestrained need.

Petal soft lips press to your inner thigh in response and you watch as he noses along the vulnerable flesh there, eyes flicking back to you to check your response before he lets the very tip of his tongue trail along a specific area. You don’t need him to tell you what he’s doing, and you groan softly at the knowledge that he’s licking along your artery.

He can likely hear the pounding of blood that echoes in your head, rushing through your body with your heightened emotions and it’s beyond exhilarating to know that he’s instinctively attracted to that spot. It should be frightening, but Hoseok has long since shown you that pain can be pleasurable when done right.

Which is why there’s a slight disappointment that dips your stomach when he abandons your thigh, nosing along the fine hair of your pubic bone until his tongue plays in the very spot you’ve been craving him this whole time. A low groan leaves him as he presses the flat of his tongue to your clit, dragging it up slowly before swirling the tip around the swollen bud in slow and steady circles.

Moaning deeply, you grasp at the sheets tightly as his tongue leads an assault of pleasure on your body that has your defences falling like dominoes with zero resistance. Each flick of his tongue, whether it’s the kitten light licks that have your hips jerking in repeated, short bursts of motion or the deep passes of his tongue that dip into your entrance with every movement.

He stops for a moment to press sticky kisses to your thigh once more, heated tongue licking along the sensitive flesh until you feel the tiniest prick that causes your leg to twitch in response. Lifting your head, you look down to see that he’s bitten down lightly, enough to cause a bead of blood to slowly trickle down your skin but not enough to be anything worrying.

Hoseok watches the dark liquid move with eyes that burn a bright crimson, the unfettered hunger in them making your inner muscles quiver with a need you vocalise with a broken call of his name. The sound breaks the trance he’d fallen into and he moves forward in an almost snake like movement to catch the drop on his tongue, following it back up at a languid pace until he wraps his mouth around the bite mark that is already healing.

With closed eyes, he tugs his mouth off to reveal the mesmeric profile that you love so dearly and your heart kicks at the sight as he nuzzles your skin almost affectionately. The softness vanishes though as he moves back to your centre, lips wrapping around your clit and sucking with an almost brutal level of strength until your mewling and babbling out phrases that you don’t even properly understand.

A long, elegant finger dips into your channel slowly, coating in the sticky fluid that leaks from you with each glide of his tongue before slipping into you with ease. The intrusion is pleasant, but you gasp for even more, needing to feel the burning stretch of him.

He lets out a laugh against you, pressing a kiss to the bud of pleasure that throbs with need before sliding a second finger into you. Each move of his hand has him twisting slightly, searching for that special spot inside you until his fingers rub against the bundle of nerves that rest on your inner walls.

Almost immediately you let out a wail of pleasure, hips pushing up to encourage him further and he lets out a primal growl as he presses a hand firmly down on your stomach, keeping you firmly in place.

“Hoseok please, please. I’ll be a good girl, please just...I need you.” You pant out needily, fingers reaching for him desperately and clenching with frustration when he darts out of the way with a smirk. His lower face is shining with your desire and he simply licks at his lips, taking in the unique taste of you as his fingers move in you slowly.

“Why should I? You seemed happy enough to flirt with another man earlier.” If you were being honest, you’d completely forgotten that Min Yoongi existed when you had Hoseok taking you to a whole new dimension in his bed right now, and you decided that you’d had enough playing games.

“I wasn’t. I would never. You’re the only man I want, I swear. Please Hoseok, husband. Please.” You beg, pleading with him to give him and just fuck you into tomorrow. He watches you closely, eyes back to being his usual brown but there’s no softness in them tonight.

Tonight, he looks every inch the regal vampire prince he is.

Baring his teeth, you whimper at the sight of his sharpened incisors and pout as he pulls his hand from you. Lifting it up, he looks at the strands of sticky liquid that stretch enticingly when he pulls his fingers apart.

Watching you closely, your inner muscles clench desperately around nothing as he slots them into his mouth and sucks them out slowly, eyes remaining focused on you the whole time. “You taste good wife. Will you let me taste more?”

The question is surprisingly civil given how annoyed he’d been earlier, but you note the way his eyes focus firmly on the elegant column of your throat and recognise his real question. Despite his earlier bite, Hoseok always made sure to have your permission before biting your neck. It was a visible area, and took a degree of trust to allow a vampire that close to somewhere so vulnerable.

Your response was simply to run a finger along the expanse of skin enticingly, letting it trail along the curve of your breast and stroking down your stomach before reaching the wetness of your clit. As your fingers begin to play with yourself, a rumbling growl vibrates from his chest and you grin at him in challenge.

“Wench.” He hisses out, tugging his jacket off before pulling his tie off and undoing the buttons of his waistcoat and shirt. Once the delicious view of his tan, toned chest is given to you, he simply undos the laces of his trousers and pushes them down his shapely thighs, unwilling to spend the time required to take off those intricate boots.

The sight of his cock bobbing in the air makes your mouth water while your inner muscles squeeze, craving the thick intrusion of him already. He smirks at the sight of your blatant want and strokes himself playfully, lips pouting at you mockingly as he tugs at his turgid length with long and practiced strokes.

A bead of pearlescent pre-cum at his tip is swiped along his thumb before he’s leaning forward, pressing it into your mouth and letting you suck the salty bitterness off his skin with a swirl of your tongue. He moans out quietly before leaning down and capturing your mouth in the first kiss of the night, his lips pressing against your firmly in a sign to not fight his dominance.

You grant him entrance to your mouth eagerly, opening up and sighing into him as his tongue slides along yours in a sensual dance. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you tug him closer and moan as he takes a thigh and wraps it around his waist, cock resting against your pubic bone as you grind against him in an attempt to gain some friction.

It takes only the slightest movement of Hoseok’s hips until his blunt head is pressing against your entrance and you break away from him to look down, the sight of him slowly pushing into you arousing beyond belief. You can’t help the way you clench down at the sight combined with the astonishingly pleasurable feeling of him stretching you.

He really shouldn’t feel like this every time you have sex, and yet he does.

“Oh...Hoseok.” You gasp out, your head falling back into the pillow as your body strains under him, tensing up as he bottoms out in you. Hoseok lets out a corresponding moan, soft and light as his head drops into your neck to get used to the sensation.

“Stop squeezing.” He snaps, nipping at your collarbone lightly and you shudder around him at the sensation, causing an immediate whine from him. Lifting his head, he glares at you with ruby eyes that promise retribution and you shiver with excited anticipation.

“Oh, is it going to be like that then?” Hoseok murmurs, eyes flickering over your face and before you can even respond, he pulls out until only the very tip of him remains in you before slamming back in with so much force, he almost shunts you up the bed to the headboard. Almost immediately you let out a wail of pleasure, the force of his movement pressing his hips into your clit with each thrust and sending sparks of desire that fizz through your veins before adding to the bubbling pit that’s building in your stomach.

Once he’s started, he doesn’t let up and each slap of Hoseok's hips against yours was so hard, so forceful that it felt almost bruising. Your body jerked upwards with each movement until you were almost positive he was going to fuck you through the headboard.

His breath, hot against the sweat of your neck, has you shivering while the primal sound of his low, guttural groans makes you clench even tighter around his cock. The sensation has him gripping your hips just as hard, fingers that are normally gentle squeezing with a force to leave pretty bruises in the shape of those hands you love.

It’s a good job no one but him and Soyeon will ever see the bruises on your hips, and the thought turns you on even more, more wetness making letting his cock slide in you even easier.

“Oh, you're being so good for me wife. So good,” He whispers darkly against the tendons of your neck, lips fluttering against your skin with butterfly soft movements that only heighten the sensation of touch you're craving from him. “My beautiful wife. Can you moan for me? Can you scream?’

Hoseok bites down then when you’re not focused on his mouth, his perfect white teeth sinking into the soft flesh of your neck with ease and you sob out a cry of pleasure at the sting. The pinpricks of pain his fangs cause vanish as his tongue laves attention to the wounds before he presses his lips to them, suctioning hard and you pant as you hear his throat gulp greedily at the thick red liquid you bleed for him.

The overwhelming sensation of both pleasure and pain has you writhing under him, throbs of desire causing you to clench around him rhythmically until he's hissing his displeasure at you once more.

Swiping his tongue along your skin to catch any leaking trails he had missed, he pulls away and you watch him through heavy lidded eyes as his lips pull back in a silent snarl. Once white teeth are now stained, while two impossibly sharp fangs are prominent in his mouth. He’s fed messily tonight, his lust causing him to be a little less careful and his chin is smeared with red.

“Bad girl.” Hoseok whispers lowly, his dominant hand coming up to wrap around your throat with a gentleness that belies the ruby in his eyes. His fingers avoid the sore marks he’s made though. Leaning down, his refined nose brushes along the bone of your jawline slowly, nudging at you in a way that's almost affectionate in spite of his words.

Rolling his hips into yours at an almost glacial pace suddenly, you can't stop the whine as his hips press against you enticingly; just enough pressure to make it feel nice but not enough to go anywhere.

“Say my name darling. Let everyone know who's fucking you good.” He whispers into your ear, voice low and sensual like a devil coaxing you out of your home. Hoseok is obviously not quite over his jealous flare earlier, and if it wasn’t for the sheer gratification he was giving you then you’d coo at him.

His words are accompanied though by another sharp snap of his hips, cock spearing you and pressing against that thick bundle of nerves on your inner wall until you're panting out his name, desperately, clinging to his shoulders with fingers that dig deep.

“Hoseok, please.” You gasp out, high pitched whines threading through every sound. Hoseok chuckles darkly, nipping at your jawline before pressing even harder against your throat till you can barely breathe.

“Say my name. Scream my name, wife. Who do you belong to?” He bites out, teeth gritted together while the tendons of his own neck appear enticingly from his efforts.

Wheezing under his grip, you tap at his arm until he's releasing just enough that you can have a breathe. The pressure in your lower abdomen is overwhelming, your pussy feeling like it's about to break from the pace he's going at and you can't stop the long, elongated moan that you let out as you finally reach your release.

Squeezing around him like a vice, your fingernails drag down his back deeply while your eyes roll into the back of your head.

A small part of your mind remembers his demand as he continues to thrust, causing micro explosions of aftershocks that ricochet your body. “Hoseok. Jung Hoseok. I belong to Jung Hoseok.”

Eyes opening you watch as Hoseok’s eyes slowly bleed from ruby to black in satisfaction, the smirk on his lips having a touch of smugness in your orgasm clouded mind.

“Good girl. Always such a good girl.” He grunts before his eyes close, expression almost pained as he presses himself firmly into you. His grip on your throat tightens once more while the other on your hip feels like he'll break something.

Hoseok's soft, bloodstained lips fall open as his brow creases from the force of his orgasm and you can feel his cock twitch as he cums, emptying himself inside you. “Good girl.” He whispers once more, eyes opening as his chest moves rapidly in an attempt to get his breath.

Rolling off you, you both face the ceiling and gasp desperately while your body feels boneless with a lack of energy. It’s like he’s sucked all the energy out of you with his bite and the orgasm, but it feels so pleasant that you can’t find it in you to care.

You don’t even realise that you’ve started to drift until you jerk into awareness when he lazily moves onto his side, wrapping an arm around you and tugging you closer to him. A soft kiss is pressed to your throat and when you look at him, Hoseok has an expression that almost looks like he’s asking for forgiveness.

“I’m yours too. You know that right?” He whispers out, and you can feel the sudden vulnerability in it. Smiling, you nod your head and kiss his forehead gently and simply tell him to sleep. You’ll always be his, just as he will always be yours. No matter what others think.

-

The final day, as always, is bittersweet. It begins with you awakening slowly, consciousness crawling its way into being at a pace that would make the snails in the gardens seem fast. Everything feels warm and the quiet solitude of the room is comforting for once instead of oppressive.

You don't want to wake up though, and you fight it as much as you can. Because waking up means facing the reality that he is leaving. That you have only scant hours with him before he climbs into his carriage and departs to his kingdom, unseen and unheard of for a further six months.

It makes your limbs feel heavy, the weight of your sadness like chains around your chest that squeeze tight until it is too hard to breathe. You had tried communicating one year, sending messages to each other as secretly as possible until you realised the futility.

One simply did not send messages from Hekatalia to Sanguinus, particularly not to the Crown Prince from the Witch Queen. Especially not when you were supposed to despise each other.

It was lovely while he was here though, while he was home. You weren’t even entirely sure where he called home anymore, but a tiny part of you hoped that he considered it here in your arms. Even if his time here was spent metaphorically shackled to the castle, you had the comfort of simply knowing that he was here.

For yet another moment, like the hundreds of times before, you cursed the Faerie Queen for giving you such a cruel curse.

Despite the knowledge that he was leaving though, your beloved husband was also the reason that you were waking right now.

He was already awake underneath you, his heart slow but steady under the warm skin of his chest as your head lay on him. Hoseok hadn't said a word to you, nor had he tried to coax you from slumber.

Instead, his fingers simply trailed along the length of your exposed back in slow, yet steady and assured movements. It was featherlight, and you would have shivered if he hadn't been doing it for long enough to desensitise your skin.

You're not sure why he hasn't tried to wake you, but he seems to be deep in thought. Though if you'd thought he wasn't paying attention then you were reminded of his vampiric senses when his hand glides up your back to rub at the sensitive skin at the bottom of your neck.

“Good morning wife.” His voice is low, gravelly with sleep and you revel in the deep tone with happiness. Nuzzling your nose into his neck, you refuse to open your eyes and ruin the moment.

Instead, you let your hand wander to rest against the velvet skin of his chest, the muscles firm under your hand. But it's the steady beating of his heart beneath your palm that calms you more than anything.

There's a misconception amongst your kind that vampires are undead and therefore have no heartbeat. It's wrong, obviously, and borne of fear and terror throughout the years. A way to demonize their enemy and strip them of the things that makes them relatable.

It is easy to slaughter innocents after all, if you believe that they are not alive in the first place.

Though it is a stupid belief that they have, given vampires quite clearly procreate. And dead people are not prone to giving life.

Still, you can't help the gut deep sense of satisfaction that you have at feeling that strong beat beneath your fingertips. The beat that tells you that he's alive and well.

“We have to get up wife.” Hoseok speaks, the words dancing from his lips into the quiet air like the tiny dust motes that you can see gliding lazily in the morning sun. Pressing yourself firmly against his side, you shake your head into his neck petulantly.

“No. I don't want to. I'm queen, I can do what I want.” You don't even have to see your husbands face to know he's probably smiling at that, his rounded cheeks pulled high while his eyes crease in happiness. It makes your heart hurt.

“Yes you are the queen. A very good queen, who does not abandon her subjects or her work to laze in bed with her husband that she should not love.” He admonishes, the hand stroking affection into your back making the words softer than they should be.

Sighing quietly, you simply inhale the soothing and comforting scent of him. “Maybe so. But I do love him. And my subjects will be here tomorrow, whereas he will not.”

His hand pauses and there's nothing further said, his very breathe still in his chest before he let's it out in a deep exhale that speaks of so many emotions. With a burst of movement, Hoseok rolls to his side and lays his arm over your waist while resting his head close to yours.

Neither of you say anything, gazes simply tracking over each others faces to keep every pore and line fresh in your memories. He looks beautiful, if a little paler than when he arrived due to his lack of spending time outdoors.

One year, you will declare him able to go where he pleases whether the population likes it or not. You know he likely won't go far, and he’s actually been the one confining himself half the time, but you would like him to at least try to experience some freedom.

His eyes are soft and unbelievably kind today, the colour rich as dark chocolate while his inky hair splays across the pillow and his forehead in a haphazard manner that is adorably sweet. The effects of sleep are still present on him as well, with a crease from his pillow in the round softness of his cheek while the puffiness under his eyes belies his tiredness.

It's the imperfections that make him truly perfect.

“I don't want you to go.” You croak out, voice cracking and hoarse with both sleep and emotion that you don't have to explain but that he feels all the same.

Hoseok says nothing for a moment and simply gives you a heart wrenching, bittersweet smile. “I know. I don't want to go. But you know I have to. Six months, and I'll be back. You know that I will love you fiercely, even when I am gone.”

Your eyes fall from his gaze and the pure honesty you see there. It must hurt him so, to constantly be uprooting his life like this. Yet he has not complained since the night he shyly confessed his love for you, fully braced for hatred and rejection so many years ago.

His thumb makes slow and comforting stroking motions on your side before he leans in, pressing his lips to your forehead before letting them remain there for a moment.

“My father has a meeting in the Faerie Kingdom soon. I think I may ask to go with him.” You understand what he means instantly and shake your head.

“Hoseok...no. You know the faeries hate us. She will never undo this curse. And I don't blame her. I don't want her to. This curse keeps us apart, yes. But without it, we would have never found love in each other. Only hate. And our people will kill each other again.” You whisper, resting a hand against his chest as you make your case.

As painful as it is to plead with him to accept the status quo, you know that it must be done.

He makes a strained noise of complaint before hugging you closer. “I hate it though. I have to at least try. For our kingdom's, so they can see that we truly can get on with each other and love. For us, to no longer live half lives. For...the babe we lost through our hubris and the children we can never have. Please...let me at least try. How can I tell you that I love you, how can everyone accept that I love you if I can't even fight for you? You can't ask because of diplomacy, but I am not a king yet. I'm just a prince, with not as much to lose as you.”

You don’t know what to say to him, as denying his request would likely hurt him even more. He’d follow your demands if you told him not to go, you knew that, but you wondered what it would cost in your relationship. It had always been harder on him, the constant shuffling from one home to another and unable to make any concrete plans for his future.

Was this to be his life? You at least had your kingdom to run, but Hoseok’s father was not likely to give up the throne anytime soon. Hoseok spent his life either learning under his father in his kingdom and not doing a whole lot, or just plain not doing a whole lot in your kingdom.

You knew that he craved more in his life, and it pained you that he was likely unhappy in many areas because of the curse. He’d taken losing the baby badly, very badly, and you knew that he craved a family for you both. Maybe it was because he truly wanted a family, or maybe it was because he wanted something to do and a child would allow him to focus his efforts somewhere.

One hundred years was a long time, and the fact that there was a distinct possibility of never bearing children in the future was painful for you both. How could you deny him to at least try? To at least ask and try to fight for your right to happiness with each other. You wanted it as much as he did, and you did not want him to be facing an eternity of unhappiness.

“Just...don’t get too hurt if she denies it. Please. Even if she says no, at least we get half the year with each other. We will figure this out, even if we have to just declare our love to each other. What can they do anyway? The curse means we have to spend six months together, and they cannot kill us. But...try.” It doesn’t seem like much, and he huffs out a breathe in annoyance. Chuckling in his arms, you press a soft kiss to his neck and enjoy the way he shivers slightly.

“You know, if anyone could see you behind closed doors then their ideas of bloodthirsty and scary vampires would be gone completely.” You tease, pushing against him until he finally lets his arms relax and you slip from him.

Exiting the bed, you stretch with a deep groan before turning around and talking in the sight of him. Hoseok is leaning up on his elbow now, the silk sheets draped around his hips and revealing the delicious expanse of golden, toned stomach and chest. The image is slightly ruined by his sleep puffy face, but it just makes you smile as your heart swells with affection for him.

“Have I ever told you that you’re beautiful wife?” He grins, fangs slightly longer than they had been as his gaze tracks along the expanse of your naked body. Cheeks heating as your husband is evidently feeling different emotions to you, you shrug as nonchalantly as you can before walking to the wash basin in the corner of his room. Taking the towel, you dip it into the fresh water and give yourself a quick clean over before heading back to him.

Crawling onto the tall bed, you bounce towards him and laugh at the way his eyes focus on your breasts immediately. Leaning over, you catch his lips in yours in a sweet kiss before sitting back with a mischievous smile.

“Come husband. We must get ready.” He growls at your mocking tone, eyes deeping to crimson as he sits up and captures your lips in a bruising kiss, one hand twining in your hair while the other presses your chest to his.

His mouth leaves yours and moves down your throat hungrily, sucking in a needy motion against the column of your neck with a deep purr. “Impudent woman. Maybe I should have a last feed...for the road you know.” He hisses, the words tickling the sensitive skin and you moan quietly, your smile unseen by him.

Gripping his black hair tightly, you press his head to your throat in an encouraging manner while your other hand reaches his body down to grip him firmly, shifting your body into position. “Please do. A good wife needs to make sure her husband is taken care of.”

He lets out a strained groan as you sink onto him before pulling back and giving you a narrow eyed gaze, his amusement strong despite the red in his eyes. “Wench.” Is all he says before he focuses on the matters at hand, providing you both with the final pleasures of his visit.

Duties soon call however and within no time at all, you find yourself sat with your advisors as they discuss the recently updated terms of a trade agreement with a far away kingdom. You should be paying more attention than you are, and part of you admonishes yourself for being such a terrible ruler, but a larger part of you is focused on the welcome soreness between your legs and the ache at your throat.

Soyeon had to wrap a beautiful scarf around your throat, turning it into an endearing fashion statement to hide the redness of Hoseok’s bite. There was a burning desire to just throw the scarf away and wear his mark proudly, but you knew the shock it would likely cause.

One day, you would simply throw your caution to the wind and kiss your husband in front of everyone the way he deserved. If you had a coin for every time you thought something like this, then you would likely have enough money to rival the royal vault.

But there is another part of your mind that is firmly in your quarters with him still, and you wonder what he is doing right now. A quick glance at the clock tells you that the carriage is due anytime, and your stomach twists with unhappiness at the prospect.

Shaking your head, you engage back with your advisors and discuss the terms that you find acceptable along with the ones that you do not, requesting they go back and re-negotiate better for your subjects. They acknowledge the requests, writing down notes furiously that you have no doubt will be discussed with the corresponding partners in the foreign kingdom.

A sudden knock at the door has your heart racing while your stomach turns, causing nausea. Soyeon’s head appears behind the heavy wooden door and you feel the strongest urge to suddenly cry.

“Apologies Your Majesty, but your husband’s carriage has arrived.” Standing, you brush at invisible dirt on your skirts before nodding your head to your advisors who bow. Making your own apologies, you excuse yourself from the meeting and begin to follow Soyeon along the quiet and empty hallways.

“Is he ready?” You ask quietly, your tone strained as your hands play with themselves nervously. Soyeon gives you a sympathetic look, resting a hand against your arm for a moment before nodding her head.

“He is Your Majesty. Waiting for you just before the doors.” She didn’t even need to say that final sentence as you turn a corner and he’s there, looking magnificently beautiful. His dark hair has been styled elegantly, lifted off his forehead while most of his body is hidden behind a long, fitted black coat, the ends brushing his knees and meeting the top of his boots. The silver lining is a subtle sign that only you would understand and you bite your lip suddenly to stop a burst of emotion.

“You have only a few minutes before they will be expecting him. His luggage is already being stowed.” She whispers, bowing her head to you both before heading out of the door. Neither of you move for a moment, and you watch painfully as Hoseok swallows.

“They’re here.” He says, tone empty as he states a pointless fact that you both already know. Pressing your hands to your mouth, you nod your head as tears fill your eyes while a gnawing desperation fills every ounce of your body.

Upon seeing it, Hoseok’s brave face falls and his own eyes shine with unshed tears as well. Striding over briskly, you marvel at the extraordinary sight he makes with his coat billowing behind him before he’s suddenly there, taking you into his arms and holding you so tightly.

“Do not cry my love. Please. It will make it much harder to leave you and impossible to not give away my feelings.” He begs, words soft and light as a feather as he pleads with you desperately. Sniffling, you bring a hand to wipe away a stray tear and he gently thumbs away the liner that has slipped from your eyes.

“You look phenomenal. Like a king.” You whisper and he laughs quietly, his face light with happiness despite the sad situation.

“I will never be your king, remember?” He breathes out, the teasing in his voice a welcome break to the brevity of what is to happen and you cling harder to him. Hoseok lets you, and makes no motion to try and move you away from him. Instead, he wraps an arm around your shoulders and pulls you in tighter.

“You’re the king of my heart.” His laugh is loud at that, the sound happy despite the situation and you can literally feel it vibrate out of his chest as he lets his hands wander along the laces that keep your dress tied together.

“Wow. I don’t even know how to respond to that without making a sarcastic comment.” Pulling away, he looks down at you with so much affection and love that you grip the lapels of his jacket even tighter.

“Then don’t. Just...come back to me in six months happy. That’s all I ask. I love you.” You focus on his chest, flattening out his jacket and rubbing at imaginary wrinkles while your lip quivers threateningly. It’s probably not very queen-like but you’re beyond caring about that right now. Hoseok doesn’t respond, simply letting his own hands rub your arms in long and gentle motions before he presses his lips to your forehead.

“I will. I promise. And all I ask is that I come back to you being happy as well. I love you too.” His voice is thick and it cracks on the final part of the sentence, causing you to swallow thickly.

“I will miss you, husband.” You whisper and he gives a weak smile, tight lipped before he dips down to catch your lips between his own in a kiss so fierce and full of emotion. It’s six months worth of kisses in one go and it leaves you breathless, panting against him when he steps back.

“I will miss you too, wife.” Blinking rapidly, he looks up at the ceiling before taking a few fortifying breathes while he rolls his shoulders in preparation. Turning to the door, he looks back at you and gives a final smile before he’s gone and you’re left alone once more.

Staring at the closed door, you will him to re-appear and take you in his arms once more but he doesn’t. Because he can’t. You both know that the curse is vicious and cruel, the pain almost unbearable.

Not waiting for Soyeon, you move quickly through the deathly silent halls before reaching your quarters once more. Slowly moving to the window, you tentatively peer out and watch as the black carriage slowly disappears out of the courtyard of the castle, dust rising as it heads on the long road back to Sanguinus.

Facing your empty room, you look around it despondently and find him in every corner. The bed, where you’d made love many times and cuddled long into the night. Only last week you had lay on your stomach across it, Hoseok sitting on the floor in front of you while he read aloud from a book. Every page he read got him a kiss on the head, until he was giggling with how fast he was trying to read.

The nightstand, when he’d taken over the job of Soyeon to carefully remove your makeup as a simple excuse to be close to you. A few months ago, he had tried to put your makeup on for you, the results causing you to gasp in horror at the mirror until you both burst out laughing, holding your stomachs in glee.

The exquisite rug where you had both laid many times, hand in hand while discussing hypothetical futures. The desk in which you had both sat at, discussing treaties and agreements that he likely shouldn’t have been involved with, yet you’d been unable to not ask him to be involved.

And yet, while each memory hurt, it was filled with so much love and affection that your heart twisted painfully.

Moving into his rooms, you inhale shakily as you take in the wonderful scent of him. Moving over and sitting on the silk sheets of his bed, you run a hand along the soft material with a tiny smile. Only hours ago, you’d made love to him here for the final time.

Laying down in the place he always slept, you pressed his pillow to your nose and breathed him in. His scent would disappear soon enough, and you’d be left cold and empty of him. What would it be like, to never have to curl into his sheets and pillow and hoard every trace of him when he’d gone?

Tears fall in a slow trickle down your face to dampen the silk of his pillow in the quiet sadness of his room, and you lament the loss of your husband once more. Your quiet breakdown is almost peaceful, with Soyeon keeping staff away from your rooms to give you the privacy you so need. They wouldn’t understand why you mourn him.

You don’t know that in a carriage along a road at the same time, your husband is crying silently, his face stoic while his fingers clench tightly so as not to make any noise to alert his travelling companions. One day, he vows. One day he will never have to leave your side.

-

Epilogue

Thursday’s were simultaneously your least favourite and favourite day of the week. It was the day that your subjects were able to seek court with you, asking their monarch for favours or to resolve disputes, perhaps even suggest new laws and so forth.

You loved them because it gave you a chance to meet the very people you ruled over, and as an immortal queen you had plenty of time on your hands to get to know these people. It was likely that you would be overseeing the disputes of their grandchildren in the years to come.

They also often gave good advice that you would sometimes adopt into your own worldview, or suggested laws that were then debated amongst the lawmakers of your country. It was the perfect way to give the smaller people a voice in a society that perhaps didn’t listen as often as it should.

You knew that Hoseok was forever impressed with the format and thought it could perhaps work in Sanguinus, and when he was here then he would often sit in the accompanying throne and simply listen. In recent years, he’d even begun to quietly speak up and offer his own advice.

Perhaps the most surprising result of that was the your people didn’t hiss or spit at him. In fact, some had even taken his wisdom to heed. It filled you with a warm pleasure, resting in your chest to see the ever so subtle changes towards him over the years.

Of course, it wasn’t the outright acceptance you wanted but a hundred years was a long time. It meant your people had grown accustomed to his presence over the fifty years that he had resided in your kingdom, and you tentatively hoped that they would not consider him to be a threat to them.

He was, after all, their co-ruler.

Today had passed like all other days, with peasants, the middle class and even some of the lords and ladies of the Court coming to for you advice or to vent their anger. You were currently having to deal with two ancient families with a blood feud who were currently arguing over who owned a certain area of land.

Perhaps you would have been more forgiving with them, given that they were important families in your Court, but this was the ninth time that they had come to you in only a year and your patience with their incessant complaining had grown thin with their tiresome ways.

Sitting with your chin in your palm as you watched the two matriarch's of the family become increasingly loud in tone as they argued, you pondered if your posture was even remotely ladylike, nevermind befitting of a queen. And yet, you found yourself uncaring.

If Hoseok had been here, he would have sighed heavily at their pettiness and their constant threats of spells and hexes before leaving. Your husband had a short temper when it came to things like these people, and you found that your normally extended patience had shortened dramatically with them.

“Lady Elabaria, Lady Winania. May I interrupt for a moment?” You say, the question more of a statement that dared either of them to talk back or argue with their queen. A small, childish, part of you wanted them to try.

It would give you the perfect excuse to ban them from the castle for a whole year. Then you would have a whole year to no longer listen to them.

Unfortunately however, they are well-trained Court members and immediately cease their whining and threats to face you with bowed heads. Sighing heavily, you sit straighter and look over the two with a critical eye.

“I understand your concerns, but I must admit that I am becoming weary of hearing the complaints from both sides. This issue has gone on too long and frankly, you are taking up valuable time that could be given to other loyal subjects. I apologise for the harshness of this, but I have given both of your families ample amounts of time to resolve this issue and yet I find both families bickering like children once more. As such, I feel the only way to resolve this issue is for the Crown to seize the lands in question until the two families come to an agreement. Once an agreement is realised, the Crown will relinquish the land to the accepted owner. Now please. Leave.” You wave a hand as you speak the words and the air around you shimmers for a moment, the magical binding of your words sealing in a golden glow.

The two matriarch’s stare at you with eyes wide in shock before they narrow in unhappiness. For a moment, you ponder if perhaps they might turn on you and you prepare to tell them why this would be a silly decision on their behalf. It’s pointless however, as they instead turn to each other and begin to argue once more as they exit the throne room.

Watching them go, you look over at the advisors who sit at a panel along the side of the expansive room with an exasperated glance. Park Jimin, the Keeper of Words in your Court, gives a silent laugh as he shakes his head at their antics.

The peasants of your kingdom are far easier to deal with. They also don’t come with the arrogance or sense of self-entitlement that the upper classes come with.

“This is the last one Your Majesty.” Soyeon whispers from your side and you turn to look at her. She’s wearing an elegant dress of purple and silver today, her highest quality dress to make sure she gives the best impression to the subjects of your kingdom. You’d already complimented her on it and how it worked wonderfully with her hair, which had caused a sweet flush to grace her cheeks.

Nodding to her, you give her a tired smile. “Good. I’m looking forward to whatever culinary delights Jin has made tonight.” At the very thought of the food your chef makes, your stomach rumbles in hunger causing you to sigh. He’d made a most delightful stew yesterday, and you were hoping for something equally as filling for the cold winter day.

Turning back to the final person, you sigh in gratitude that your long day is almost over. As much as you enjoyed these days, they also left you feeling stiff and awkward from having to sit on the uncomfortable throne for as long as you did. Not to mention the heavy tiara that rested on your hair, a symbol of your ultimate power in the kingdom.

Perhaps you complain too much though, you reason to yourself. There are many in your kingdom who do far more work than you without complaint.

The final visitor is a sole traveller, their head covered in the hood of their tattered robe and you eye them over. The robe brushes the floor with each movement and you note the dust that dirties the hem, lightening the dark colour and wonder if they’re from one of the far reaches of your kingdom.

Normally, people dress up better to greet their queen. You say nothing though, and instead gesture with an elegant hand to them. “Speak your mind loyal subject. Your queen will listen.”

There’s a moment of quiet in the vast throne room and you shift in your seat, brows creasing in confusion as they do not speak immediately. Normally, people are excited to have the ear of their queen. You do not push them though, as you have discovered over the many years that some people are nervous about their request.

“Your Majesty. I come today to request your assistance. You see, I have a wife, and I love her very much. But our circumstances are awkward. People do not approve of us being together, for our families have fought for many generations. But I love her fiercely. And I’ve finally found a way for us to be together. I just need your permission to love her openly.” The sheer longing and love in the stranger’s deep voice makes your heart ache with a need to hold Hoseok.

His story sounds so similar to your own, and you find yourself pressing a hand to your stomach without meaning to in an attempt to ease the pain. You weren’t entirely sure why your permission was needed, but if the queen’s word could help to ease the path of love for this stranger and his wife then you would be loathe to hold it back.

You could at least help one relationship to be happy.

“Forgive me, stranger. I do not know if my words will bring you comfort or bring ease into your life with your wife. But you have my full blessing to love openly and honestly. Hold her tight, and always let her know how much you love her, for yours is a love that you have fought hard for.” Your words are perhaps a little more filled with emotion than would normally emerge from you, and you can see the confused frown that Jimin is giving you as the words you speak magically appear on the scroll he is holding.

There’s nothing for a few seconds, and you wonder if perhaps the stranger has more to say. But then he laughs and you freeze in confusion, brows coming together as your heart races with anticipation while your mind pauses in hesitation.

“Thank you for your blessing, my queen. I have waited a long time for this day.” Staring at him in disbelief, you can tell that Soyeon and your advisors are looking between your stunned face and the stranger with confusion.

“No...it’s not possible.” You whisper softly before rising from your throne a hand to your chest while your other grasps your skirts, lifting almost subconsciously as you make your way down the steps. Shaky steps are made towards him and your breath is coming faster than normal, your senses firmly attuned to the man in front of you.

He lets out a breathy laugh, hood moving as he shakes his head underneath it. “Hello, wife.” At that, he lowers the hood and reveals the bright smile of your husband. Your husband who should not be here, for it has only been three months since his departure.

The shocked gasps of everyone in the room let you know that you’re not imagining his astonishingly handsome presence and your eyes track over him quickly. Hair that has been flattened underneath his hood is still a sumptuous black while his golden cheeks glow with a healthy tan.

“Hoseok...how?” You gasp out, a shaking hand moving in front of you until it’s pressed to his very real, firm chest. He’s just as warm as always underneath the rough material of his robe and your trembling fingers untie it quickly, letting it drop to the floor and revealing the exquisite figure of your husband in an black riding outfit.

His hand comes to grasp your own tightly, thumb stroking along the soft skin of the back of your hand before he presses it to his lips in a sweet kiss. “I saw the Faerie Queen, like I said I would. I pleaded our case to her, in fact I spent three days begging her. She refused at first, not understanding that I was being truthful. I told her of our love, stories of us being together and even of our dream of a family and the babe we lost. I offered her anything I could give except you. My crown, whatever she wanted as long as we could be together.” He pauses, his eyes scanning the hall and noting the surprisingly neutral looks on your advisors as they watch him embrace you.

“I didn’t have to beg too much surprisingly though. Apparently, our dance at the masquerade seems to have given us away to the observant ones and she already knew. She didn’t take anything from me and though she is still angry over what happened, she understands that is is not our fault specifically. We are still cursed therefore but she modified it for us, to make it easier to live with. We have no time limit anymore. Our time, is ours. She apologises for the miscarriage also. She didn’t think that would ever happen as it never entered her mind that we might fall in love, and she knows well enough the pain of losing a child.”

The words are soft and only for your ears, but you don’t even care. You can’t find it in yourself to care. Because he is here when he shouldn’t be, and there is no pain or hurt. Only love and excitement.

“No six months?” You ask warily, resting your other hand on his chest while he holds your other with a firm grip. A beautiful grin lights up his face as he shakes his head slowly.

“We can be together as long, or as little as we want. Still cursed, but free to love as we want.” He whispers and you can’t stop the choked sob that leaves your mouth as tears fall. Over fifty years of wanting this, fifty years of desperation to have him like everyone has has their partner. And now, now you have him.

“I love you, you stubborn, beautiful, wonderful man.” You gasp, wiping at your tears. He doesn’t even get chance to respond before you push up onto the very tips of your toes, wrapping your arms around his neck firmly and pulling him down in a kiss so deep, so full of emotion.

The sight is probably shocking for everyone, to see their queen’s vampire husband here when he shouldn’t be. But what is perhaps less shocking to your most trusted people is the desperate kiss you give him while embracing him as tightly as you can. You don’t know it, but the people closest to you have long since guessed your feelings.

You may be cursed still, and you will be for the rest of your eternally long life, but you cannot think of anyone you would rather spend the rest of that long life cursed with.

[haphazardlyparked]

AU Coalition Part III

part one and part two were extremely different, but I have continued this birthday tradition with a Raven Tower-inspired flashback thing. Happy belated birthday, @gingerly-writing!! As always you continue to be an inspiration, seeing as I haven’t written anything in literal ages but then I remembered I had had an idea for the birthday space AU for you.

————

I traveled for a very long time, and for very much of that very long time, I saw nothing. I knew there were many things to be seen—I knew this as I knew I was not alone among my kind. Merely very far away from them, as I was very far away from the many things that could be seen. Though often I saw them from a distance, as I sped by, there is yet again so much empty space between those things and my own body that glimpses were all I ever saw.

And then I came very close upon a star. This star and its companion shone in tandem, not so bright as some of the things I had seen in the distance, but blindingly, newly so for how close I was to them. It was a novel thing, to feel such heat upon me, and I thought how nice it would be to stop.

It took a great deal of thinking how nice it would be to stop before I did stop, right between the grip of the swirling stars, and that was when I came upon the world.

It was a soft world, full of vibrant colors where for very long I had seen streaks and pinpoint flares, and I could see that life was in profusion there.

My arrival was not a great thing for that profusion of life, and I do not remember much of that period. For I was small, compared to the soft world, but I brought with me all my endless travel, and the power that came with that tilted the world into confusion. It was a long while before we settled, the soft world and I, and I spent a great deal of my power trying to save and strengthen the life I had greatly diminished.

So it was that when I truly woke and was my own self again, I circled the soft world and it and I had found a balance that again gave room for life’s profusion.

I watched the soft world, the little light I found myself bound to. The life there grew in great leaps and broken bounds, reached great highs and then, sometimes, such lows that I turned my face and could not watch. But if I turned my face, I was always called back.

The first time the life called to me was not with words, though they certainly said many of them. What I heard was a kind of rhythm, a movement of sound that went back and forth, an interplay I had not known I had once known. So long I had traveled, everything around me streaked and disappearing beyond as I made my swift way through space, and now there was a rhythm that called and gave back, that cradled, that moved and yet did not leave its place.

I turned my face back, of course. I looked for the faces of those who sang to me, and slowly I learned their words. My joy in their triumphs was greater, and my sorrow when I saw their paths darkening increased the same, and when it grew too painful for me to see, I turned my face. Sometimes, this was enough to halt a sharp fall, and sometimes I heard many desperate cries before I was called back. (I answered those desperate cries, of course. I turned my face, but I do not need to see to know how my people suffer, and to help them where I can and where it is just to do so.)

Great Lady Moon, they would call, though this is not all they called; they gave me a name, too, the life on the soft little world, one that I cherish and hold close to the dearest parts of me.

This time gave me much in joy and satisfaction, and I heard my name spoken widely and freely, and I gave of myself when I was called. I felt a kinship with this world I had nearly destroyed, but then given of myself to save, and now it and I thrived together. It was my little world, which had named me, and we might have stayed that way forever if the ships had not come.

They bore life like my life, but they tasted stale and yet seemed to remind me of something from very long ago, from before my voyage. The ships landed on my little world and disgorged its cargo of alien life, and my people called to me in amazement as they sheltered their alien visitors, who looked so much like themselves in some ways, and yet differed so much in the ways that mattered.

But time passed and the aliens did not leave us, or could not leave us, and I grew to see even these aliens as mine. They stayed so long I began to hear them speak to me, and then they truly were mine, and I helped my people build together ships of their own so they might explore the space beyond the soft little world.

But there were two things my people did not do, as the first visitors had done.

They did not travel near to me, for they held me in great respect, and they would not explore my being as the first visitors had spoken of doing to their own planet’s companions.

And they would not sleep long, long years and travel through endless empty space as the first visitors had; as I had. In all my travels as the lights of distant bodies flew by, I had thought very much about the nature of the space I inhabited, that I entered and left and moved through continuously. And as I had thought about that space, I had thought about its properties, and how it might be shifted here and there to make my ceaseless way easier or more interesting, and then I had come upon the star and ceased my thinking. 

Now, I thought again of all that space I had traveled through, and I saw that it could be changed, and I directed my people to do so. With my instruction and their own ingenuity, they created great gates that hung in space, and through these gates they flew their ships and crossed between the space between the stars, to distant worlds beyond.

Beyond my protection.  

Many of my ships came home to me. Some did not. For as I have said, I was not alone among my kind, merely very far away from any others, and with these gates hanging in the dark of space, my people could travel very far away. There was other life, shepherded by others of my kind, and not all was as peaceful as we. There were other gates, too, built by others.

My people began to construct their travel stations farther and farther away, and creating new ones and deactivating others; creating alliances out among the stars, and shunning other parts of the universe that grew too unsafe. We worked together, my people and I, to keep our corner of the vastness whole.

During this time, with all the ships flying in and out of the gates, and all the foreign ships visiting my small world and I, I quickly learned I did not like my ships going out beyond where I could see them. For almost all this little world’s life, I had been there, giving my power to this life, and now they went where I could not see.

You are distressed, Lady, a Speaker of that time to me, early in the days of my people’s gate travel. All of my people speak to me, but there are always those who speak more often. And among them are those whose voices ring with foresight, who think a great deal over what I have to say, and then do a great deal more of acting after that. Those who called me back in the old days, when I would turn my face in sorrow, were often led by my Speakers.

I admitted to my Speaker that I did not like to have my people go so far, to places where they could die and I could never bear witness, never know their fate.

And the Speaker thought a great deal over what I had said, and then did a great deal more acting after that, and suddenly my people did had never done before: they flew their ships to me. They landed, and one walked upon my surface, and cut a piece from me and carried it into the ship.

Can you see now, Lady? my Speaker asked, and as the ship flew away the one who had walked upon my surface, who was indeed my Speaker, set the piece of me they had wrested from my surface into the body of her ship. Thus I could see them all.

I went everywhere. I watched over my soft little world, in the embrace of our suns, and also I was with my people as they leaped between the stars. I learned names and met others of my kind (though I did not say much to them, and did not form alliances among them as I saw they do with each other) and I went farther than I ever had before, and this time I was not hurtling through space alone.

You already know this, of course, because I am your moon and you are life from my little planet, but it is my story to tell and it may be my last telling. Even so, I will now skip ahead to the voice that sang to me sharply one night, drawing my attention from all parts of the vastness. In the end, I too have learned something of haste.

The voice that sang was a wail, actually, and it came from a new babe aboard a ship that carried a piece of me, as all of my ships do. She was born in orbit around the little planet, between the little planet and me, and before me.

I do not know. I do not claim to know everything, as you well know, only to have lived very long and seen very much. But I did take an interest in the infant, and because I was interested a sliver of me contrived to find its way among the child’s things, and I watched the girl who had cried to me begin to smile, and laugh, and do many other interesting human things besides.

I knew my people lived through different phases of maturity, grew from babies to children to adults, but I had been aware of it in the sense that I was aware of everything; human children grew just as the children of any animal grew, as any living thing grew. I was among it all, aware of it all. But this child had a voice that called easily to me, and through that crystal voice I saw life with new eyes.

Your people called you a lady then, though you will go by different titles now. You will be a queen next, I know. In watching you, I have learned names and seen people and understood the pulse of lives more sharply, seen the tangle of your concerns, and learned your context. It was like this when I became very fond of someone, always those with something of a Speaker in them; and as I traveled aboard ships, parts of me became very attached to my crew, my traveling life, and it was like this then as well.

My perspective changed yet again when you began to speak to me. You were not a Speaker yet, but you told me of all sorts of things from the moment you could talk. Your little joys, your petty sorrows. Your fleeting interests and passing observations. Perhaps this is because you were born so close to me, between my world and myself, and before me, yet I was captivated by every little thing. Rarely had one spoke to me so; they called me Great Lady, and Lady, and Goddess, but you used my name freely and spoke freely, and I had not know much of this before you. 

I am studying history, you would say, and I should think you know more than anyone of it.

Perhaps, I would reply, because I see things differently from where I am, and I do not always know your past by your names. But together we found a common language much of what I had seen, and then I would tell you of other Speakers, each of whom I remembered dearly, all different yet the same in the ways that mattered.

Have you ever learned to dance, Sascrin? you would ask, I am learning a pattern from old Kas, and I think I might break an ankle.

In my memory, I have only ever danced one pattern, and it is the dance I share with my little world. But I did love to watch you do it, and you did dance so well with the boy from old Kas who wanted to captain a ship. No ankle was broken.

Lady Sascrin, you would muse, what is it like to be in so many places at once?

I had not thought of that before you asked me, for I simply was where I was, with each part of my body. I did tried to explain it to you, and you thought very hard about it until you could only laugh with confusion. In turn, I wondered how it felt to be tied to one body. The idea was almost confusing enough to amuse me, but then I thought that if you lost a part, it did not remain you or yours, as the small sliver that is still me can hang on a chain around your neck.

I endeavored to keep all your parts together. After a while, I also endeavored not to favor you too greatly, because I did see how your gifts made you shine uncomfortably.

My cousin the prince is angry with me again, you had told me often, and I had not thought to think what it could mean. We both had greater concerns. I knew from you a new great empire threatened our people; had destroyed allies and alliances already, and might yet break the guards on gate construction we had to protect us. My attention followed you when you traveled the gates and fought in distance space. 

And there was also the simple fact that I did not often hear the voice of your cousin. And because I did not know what he would do, now I am too late to stop it.

Do you know why I am telling you this tale, my Speaker?

“Lady Sascrin,” you say, “we cannot save the planet, it is true, but you could put more of yourself into our ships. We will take you away with us and find a new planet.”

I can feel how deeply you wish this, how shamed yet determined you are to save what your blood has destroyed. You think you have failed me. 

You have not. I believe this moment must come for everything, even for those of my kind, and it has been a very long time since I have heard of others (though I think you may find something like me in the heart of this empire.)

Speaker, I am telling you this tale now because I have lived a very great deal and been many places and seen many things, and I have loved my soft world. I am sorry that it will fall to you to build something new for us, and though I have done what I can to help you, I am sorry that I will not be there for you as I have always been there for my Speakers.

But I have never had a true friend to be mourned by when I go, and I would like to ask this of you.

You are silent for a very long time. When you speak, your sorrow runs so deeply I feel an ache somewhere in me.

“I do not know how much sense our blessings will make, but I do wish the light of Lady Sascrin upon your heart. My dear friend.”

My own light upon my heart, I muse.

And I say, as you prepare to jump through a gate in your ship to escape the imminent explosion, My light will be with you always, Masara. My dear friend.

————

"This is..." Hikaj felt that his eyes were comically large in his face as he stared down at Amir-Y, but it could not be helped.

The great station was the size of a small moon, though instead of being solid through it was made of bands over bands of habitable station. The inner bands were finished and even populated, but there were countless manned and unmanned droids crawling about the outer edges of layered sphere, building new and ever-greater bands that curved elegantly unfinished over the layers beneath.

"Even for famed Sascrin technology, this is beyond comprehension," Hikaj finally manages.

Arlis's grin widens, and Inarim turns faintly proud, and Masara looks Hikaj in the eyes.

He sees loss in there, but great respect.

"This truly is Sascrin's technology," she said. "The Lady had always been our greatest teacher, and she wanted us have a home. When we win this war, Hokiraj, Amir will have something to protect as well.”

[theeternalspace]

Masterpost of my Works in Progress Sanders Side’s Fanfic

Looking for my Completed Works? Click HERE

Absent Gods and Silent Tyranny or: How Logan Learned to Stop Over Thinking and Love Everyone (Platonic LAMP, Brotherly Prinxiety, Logan & Virgil focus)

Tumblr Masterpost // Ao3 Link

Dr. Logic makes his living working for whichever Super Villain is willing to pay. At the end of the day it is a job where he can put his talents to work.He certainly isn’t bothered by things like public morality or the definition of good vs evil.

He doesn’t have time for things like that, although he accepts that he would be considered a ‘bad guy’. As far as Logan is concerned, it is a small price to pay for the benefits of proper scientific funding.

But when his latest invention fails and his Boss decides to punish someone else for his mistakes, Logan is forced to reevaluate everything he thought he knew.

And maybe accidentally make some friends along the way.

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(Honey you Should) See Me in a Crown (Prinxiety)

Tumblr Masterpost // Ao3 Link

“You are a marvellous creature, trapped inside such a small little cage” - Original Prompt.

When Thomas is attacked by Intrusive Thoughts, it is down to Virgil or Roman to deal with them. The Creative Side had vanished into the Imagination many hours ago to deal with one and hadn’t come back.

Following Roman into his world, Virgil discovers to his horror that the Intrusive Thought had somehow managed to possess his friend.

In control of the imagination and with Virgil his prisoner, it is clear that the Thought has a real plan in mind instead of causing chaos for the sake of it. But what does he actually want from his ‘Little Bird’?

And can Virgil escape in time to save Roman, Thomas and perhaps even himself?

Click HERE for a ficlet by @theitalianscribe on a possible reason why Remus isn’t in this story.

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House of Leaves (Prinxiety)

Tumblr Masterpost  // Ao3 Link

Hero and Villain AU.

The Dazzling Prince wants many things in life. To rule, to have power, to be loved. To have his hero renounce the light and dance with him in the shadows of night.

When his other half comes to him for help, Roman finds himself being offered the thing he wants most in the world - if only he can reach out to take it.

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On Yggdrasil’s Branches (Prinxiety & Platonic LAMP)

Tumblr Masterpost // Ao3 Link

The inhabitants of the mindscape are all under the strain of Remus finally revealing himself to Thomas. None more so, it appears, than Virgil. Worried about his Dark Strange Son, Patton takes it upon himself to visit unannounced. Only to discover Virgil’s unconscious form in Deceit’s arms as the snake faced side flees into his area of the mind.

Nothing Deceit does is ever as it seems however and once drawn through his doorway, Patton, Roman and Logan all find themselves in strange new stories, cut off from Thomas and each other.

A new reality, a unique world for each with no idea of how they got there or how to get home.

One of the few constants is Virgil. Except it’s a different Virgil every time. A different Virgil with a different story and a distinct different personality. He never seems to recognise them but it doesn’t take long for each to realise that the way home is intimately linked to their missing anxious friend.

The only problem is the other constant in each world - Remus.

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Redemption has Stories to Tell (Prinxiety, Sleepxiety, Whatever a Roman/Virgil/Remy Polyamory is called)

Tumblr Masterpost // Ao3 Link

For his 18th birthday, Roman Sanders had expected presents, getting drunk, maybe, in his wildest dreams, a car of his own. Not to be told his parents had sold their first born to a demon, payment to be collected on his birthday. Today. No matter what he might want from life, it seems as though his destiny is nothing more than to be dragged down to Hell.

Virgil doesn’t want a human soul but he knows he doesn’t have a choice in the matter, not after his dad insisted and he finds the human not at all what he expected. Maybe this won’t be as terrible as he feared.

And Remy? Well Remy just wants to make sure this human doesn’t steal what is his.

But nothing can ever be that simple can it? Not when forces start to meddle in the very fabric of the Underworld and the group find themselves torn apart as new battlegrounds are forged and old secrets come bubbling to the surface.

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The Consequences of Sound. (Prinxiety & Platonic LAMP)

Tumblr Masterpost // Ao3 Link

Anxiety hurts Thomas. It's just what he does, what he has always done. It's not what he wants. He only wants to protect him but that is easier wished for than done. When the opportunity to prove himself opens up to him, he grabs it, for once not caring about the consequences. Things go downhill from there.

The fall, rise, fall (and rise again) of Virgil.

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When the Wolfbane Blooms (Sleepxiety & Logince)

Tumblr Masterpost // Ao3 Link

In retrospect, Virgil supposed the only surprising thing about being tied up in the woods and left to die by his village was that it hadn’t happened sooner.

Chosen as the sacrifice to the monsters in the wood, Virgil expects to be torn limb from limb by some savage creature intent on eating his heart. Or dragged deeper into the trees to be part of some horrible ritual. Maybe even kept as some kind of pet or living trophy - after all nobody knows what happens to the sacrifices, only that they are never seen again.

The beasts that lurk within are not what he expects however and soon Virgil finds himself in a desperate battle to protect his new found family against the growing anger of the villages around the forest, while trying to understand what has happened to him, his attraction to the mysterious leader of the group, and making sure Roman and Logan stop wasting time and finally admit their feelings for each other.

Can he save them or will he realise too late the real truth - that humans can be the worst monsters of all.

There is some outstanding art HERE by @justisaisfine of Remy and Virgil’s first meeting

[glow-worm]

Cycle 19

“Hey, Taak—that’s—that’s enough.”

Taako shook his head, ignoring his sister. Her arm was draped over his shoulder, and he was supporting most, if not all of, her weight. He looked back over his shoulder, his eyes widened slightly in fear. He breathed heavily and his body shook under the weight of his twin.

“I—I think we lost them,” Taako rasped.

“Yeah, guess your illusion cantrip worked,” Lup’s voice was hushed, and she slurred her words ever so slightly. “Someone else’s problem now. Taako—can we—can we stop?”

“No,” Taako replied without hesitation. “We’re close to the ship, I know we are. Just—just hang in there, Lulu.”

“Mm,” Lup winced. “Hate that.”

“I know. We’re almost there, I promise.”

“Taako—Merle’s gone.”

Taako grit his teeth. “We have potions. I’m sure we do. Lucretia has something, she always does.”

Their cleric had passed a week ago. He was older, and couldn’t survive in the harsh conditions of this plane. It was the nineteenth cycle. The nineteenth year of running from the Hunger, but this time a different hunger found them.

“Taako, listen to me.”

“I’ll patch you up, and Davenport will have a potion.”

“Taako—”

“Or Barry will have a potion.”

“Please—”

“Magnus—he always keeps one for an emergency.”

“Taako, I—I can’t walk anymore.”

Taako finally stopped walking, and looked in the dirt path behind them to see that he had indeed just been dragging Lup along for quite some time. It was less than ideal, as he realized that not only was his sister in really bad shape, but they were leaving a trail right to their ship.

He paused for a moment to catch his breath, which didn’t seem to happen. He looked down at his sister, who tried to muster a weak smile for him. Her eyes were sunken in, dark, and glazed over. Her face was splattered with her own blood, and her neck and chest were drenched in it.

Taako bit his lip. They had just been out scavenging for food. All of this—for food.

This plane was wrought with famine. A hot sun beat down on them, yet very little flora grew. The fauna, too, was scarce and extremely violent when found. The humanoid beings who inhabited the planet had seemingly taken to cannibalism—at least, they seemed uninhibited by the idea of eating the IPRE crew. Usually, interactions with the locals would result in a few minor injuries—a bite here or there. This time was different. This time, they were ambushed.

The twins probably could have escaped if they had been in better health, but the whole crew was starving. Lup and Taako would conjure up food often in the beginning, but that took energy. After two months of conjuring food for an entire crew, the duration the meals would exist grew shorter and shorter, and the twins grew thinner and weaker.

They had tried desperately to conjure food for at least Merle, and they were able to keep it up for a while, but eventually the strain actually knocked Taako out. They were both still willing to try, but Merle wouldn’t have it. He insisted they save their strength and take care of themselves and the rest of the crew—after all, worst case scenario, he would be back next cycle. Between the lack of food, and the intense heat, Merle could not go on. They were now five wizards and a fighter.

“We’re so close, Lup,” Taako murmured, before checking his surroundings again.

“Taako—you know it’s not permanent. I’m gonna pop back up next cycle.”

“Don’t say that,” Taako hissed, trembling. “We’re only, like, four months in. I’m not doing this without you.”

“We don’t both need to die,” Lup offered gently.

“Don’t,” Taako repeated, the fear rising in his voice. “Please, just hang on a little bit longer.”

With that, Taako bent his knees and scooped Lup up in his arms bridal style, much to her dismay.

“Hell no,” she spat.

“You just said you can’t walk!”

“We look ridiculous,” Lup retorted. “Besides, there’s no way you can carry me.”

She was right. Although Lup had lost a lot of weight from the malnutrition, Taako had as well. He didn’t have much strength these days. He briefly thought he had a spell for this, but—no, he used all of his spell slots. The last one was to make a wall of fire, protecting Lup and him from the planar natives so they would lose interest and instead go after an illusion he had cast. Lup, too, had burned the last of her spell slots in the fight.

It had been grossly unfair. Something like twenty against two. The foes were strong and hungry. They had more will power. They had not been running between planes for eighteen years. They were used to the heat, and more tolerant of the little food that could be found on the planet’s surface. Still, the sheer numbers overwhelmed the twins.

“You took a lot of damage, Taako—if you try to get me back to the ship, you won’t be able to get back yourself. Please, just…put me down. It’s gonna be okay.”

Taako couldn’t say that he didn’t feel his own injuries. The only thing getting him through it was the thought of going through the rest of the cycle without Lup. How could he do over eight months of hardship without his sister? How could he be expected to just watch her die and walk off?

He looked down again at Lup. Her breathing was labored; her body was growing cold in spite of the heat. She was clearly fighting to stay conscious for him. He felt something catch in his throat.

“I have an idea,” Taako choked out, his voice cracking slightly.

“Wha—Taak, it’s—it’s really okay.”

Taako slowly bent his knees and lowered Lup down to the ground as gently as he could. An airy cloud of dust puffed up from the dirt road around her body before settling back again. Lup looked up at her brother with a sad but grateful smile, which faded quickly when Taako pulled out his wand and struggled to stand up again.

“You’re out of spell slots—what are you doing?” Lup asked.

He stumbled slightly when he reached his full height. Did he have the strength to muster one more cantrip?

“Taako,” Lup asserted. “Whatever you’re doing, don’t. It’s too much. I want you to go back to the ship. Just forget about me, okay?”

Taako pointed his wand at the sky.

“Never.”

With everything he had, he cast prestidigitation. The biggest, brightest, most brilliant prestidigitation he had ever cast. Scarlet red and gold sparks shot high into the sky like fireworks. Like an emergency flare.

For a moment, everything went black and silent.

When Taako regained his senses, he was doubled over on his knees next to his sister. One of his hands was pressed hard against his side, which had a bite taken out of it. He struggled even harder to breathe, and everything hurt.

He was all out of magic now.

“Can you hear me?” Lup’s voice, still shaky and quiet, cut through the silence. “Taako. Hey. Taako, please, can you hear me? That was so dumb.”

Taako nodded.

“That was a shit plan, dingus,” Lup said. “Anyone could have seen that. You can’t take another fight.”

“We’re—so close, Lup—” Taako answered between breaths. “Someone will get here first—Magnus—maybe, or—or Barry,”

“Taako, you need to go back to the ship,” Lup whispered.

“Not without you.”

“This is all very sweet,” Lup started. “But it’s too late. I’m…I’m so tired, Taako.”

He looked at his sister, tears welled up in his eyes.

“I’ll see you next cycle, okay?” she continued. “Just get yourself somewhere safe.”

The tears fell down his face now, and he shook his head.

“Please don’t go, Lup,” he begged. “Don’t leave me here alone.”

“It’ll be okay, Taak.”

“No,” Taako asserted. “I need you—I—I don’t want to be without you.”

“Go back to the ship,” Lup mumbled, her eyelids slowly falling shut.

Taako grabbed her hand.

“No—I’ll—I’ll stay here,” his voice broke. “I’ll stay until it’s over.”

Lup smiled, her eyes now fully closed.

“Hey…don’t worry about the Light of Creation here, okay? Just…stay alive. I’ll see you…next time.”

Taako nodded, “Okay.”

Lup’s hand went slack in his.

“No—please, Lup, just—hang on a little bit longer,” Taako pleaded. “I can’t do this. Lup. Please.”

There was no answer.

“Lup.”

He gripped her hand tighter.

“Lup, please…wake up…”

He was alone.

“Lup, please. Don’t do this.”

So, so alone.

“Lup.”

Taako heard a gruff voice call out his name in the distance. He ignored it. He kept his eyes on his sister. Magnus was rushing in towards them.

A little too late.