#Boxrom

[peonypearls-muddled-musings]

Boxrom flats!

#Boxrom #The Hierarchy #PDatSK #my art

[dayaneelias00-blog]

Romance é uma caixa cheia de detalhes deliciosos... Contém Um platter Box - com castanhas, frutas, queijos e geleia Um espumante freixenet carta nevada (200ml) Um mini bouquet de flores do dia Três Ferrero Rocher Uma bomba de chocolate quente Valor 195,00 Um presente que vai derreter corações. . . . #platterbox #freixenetcartanevada #boxromance #oquefazerpinhais (em Pinhais) https://www.instagram.com/p/CP7DU-hJNcw/?utm_medium=tumblr

#platterbox #freixenetcartanevada #boxromance #oquefazerpinhais

[peonypearls-muddled-musings]

Dreamstate

“That’s a daffodil.”

“Daffiddy.”

‘And that’s a peony.”

“Penony.” 

Malgam smiled, watching his daughter look closely at some flowers being sold by a street vendor. She carefully moved her hand over the soft petals, brushing the flowers as she studied them. Malgam knelt down next to her.

“Should we get some for papa?”

Nodding excitedly, little Koyali answered her father, her big blue eyes shining in the afternoon sunlight. Malgam chuckled, and he paid the vendor handsomely as they allowed the red-haired tot to pick which flowers they would present to her life-giver. 

Moments later, Malgam oversaw Koyali’s trek to the town square, hefting the bouquet, which was almost as big as she was. She caught the attention of passerbys as they stopped to coo and chuckle, but she didn’t break her stride. Malgam nodded at his people as they smiled at him, and he ensured Koyali’s safe travel as he found a picnic table, and he retrieved the bouquet from her as she sat. Malgam sighed, looking around the square. 

It was a beautiful day in June. Citizens were out in full force, having dates and picnics in the square and the parks. He sighed. While his heart was full; there was a piece missing.

Koysov was Sleeping. He’d made his leave nearly four years ago; and Shifters typically needed a full ten years to recover from their hundreds of years of activity. Somewhere, a human housed Malgam’s husband, and Malgam wanted nothing more than to hold Koysov as he slumbered, to hear his sleepy breathing, and to watch him curl in to get cozy. 

But it wasn’t just Koysov. In the same year, after dealing with a sudden illness, Floralis required rest as well. They were worried they would lose her; but a healthy human host was found in time; and she made her leave as well to recover the strength the illness had stripped from her. Hers and Koysov’s hosts had no interaction; and it hurt Malgam that the Hierarchy was stripped of two members at once. 

Both he and Boxrom were parted from their ring-wearers so quickly. It had taken them both by surprise. Following the aftermath, Malgam and Boxrom kept their doors open for each other. Boxrom in respect for his king, who dealt with chronic nightmares that Koysov was a pro at chasing away. And Malgam’s door remained open for Boxrom, who sorely missed his wife, and would wake up remembering her deathly pallor as she fought away infection; and the grief that his medical prowess hadn’t nearly been enough to save her. She nearly slipped through his expert hands.

The weeks turned to months, and within a year, Boxrom and Koysov’s room-sharing became frequent. Then the room sharing became a bit more.

Thus resulting in Koyali. 

A normal routine of a shifter’s slumber, their spouse (if they had one) would often welcome a new child into the Hierarchy to keep bloodlines going. Boxrom soon delivered his and Malgam’s daughter; not their first child together.

Her third birthday was tomorrow, and little Koyali as the pride of her fathers. Koyali was Malgam’s first new child in nearly three decades; and he smiled as she hummed to herself. Boxrom and Floralis’s most recent child was self-sufficient, and had already been making plans to travel across the sea to put his mechanical talents to use. He’d promised his mother that when she woke up, he would have already made a name for himself.

Koyali, however, had a playmate in Nadlia and Belisia’s son, who was only a year older than her; and Tuvra’s daughter with Ev’Elle, who had just turned two, had taken to mimicking little Koyali, and the girls often enjoyed bouts of well-meaning destruction around the palace.

Malgam, sitting across from Koyali as he scrolled through messages on his phone, often looked to his daughter as she investigated the bouquet contentedly. 

“Daddee what’s dis one again?” She asked, pulling out a long stem with a cluster of blue and white flowers orbed together.

“That’s a hydrangea.”

“D’djanga.”

Malgam chuckled as she fought to make the name work with her little voice. She sang what she could make of the three syllables to herself as she picked at the petals before Malgam looked up, and from the crowd waved their person of interest.

“Koyali, look,” he grinned, pointing to the crowd. The tot saw Boxrom, who froze in place playfully as he spotted his daughter, and she cheered and rushed to Boxrom, who did the same to pick her up. Malgam beamed as Boxrom hefted Koyali into the air before letting her latch on tightly.

“Hey there, kiddo!” Boxrom said, hugging his daughter as he walked to the table. He planted proud kisses on Koyali’s forehead as she squealed. He looked up to see Malgam smiling, and the flowers on the picnic table. “What are these?” 

Malgam presented them. “They’re for you. Koyali picked them out.”

Boxrom gasped dramatically for Koyali, and he held up the bouquet. “For me?!” 

Koyali then reached over, the plastic encasing of the bouquet crinkling loudly as she picked a daisy from the bunch. “Okee now dey are.”

Laughing heartily, Boxrom hugged his daughter, kissing her hair before setting her down to inspect her flower. He looked to Malgam, who stood to greet Boxrom with a kiss. 

“How did everything go?” Malgam asked, still holding Boxrom in his arms. Boxrom smiled, looking at the flowers; a definite mishmash chosen by a child.

“Business as usual. We oversaw a shipment of humans to start researching some cures. What Floralis caught is still eluding us; and it’s still making rounds around the other kingdoms. It’s treatable now, but Floralis was lucky that she can rest with a host; others can’t, and the damage to their bodies is substantial. We’re hoping immunizations will prevent it.”

Malgam nodded, seeing the yearning in Boxrom’s eyes.

“She’ll be proud of you.”

Smiling, relieved, Boxrom pressed his forehead to his king’s before they looked down to see Koyali, trying to put the daisy in her hair. She smiled up at them, and they knelt down to help her braid the flower into her red locks. They then set her loose to go play with other children in the square as they sat together. 

“... Stars; I miss her,” Boxrom heaved a sigh. “How are you holding up?”

Malgam allowed a slouch to his posture for a moment, feeling the weight of Koysov’s absence.

“I’m holding up with you and the others,” he finally allowed himself to say. “I have held up through worse. I will continue. It hurts; but sometimes it feels like there’s nothing inside.”

“That’s the worst part,” Boxrom said. He watched Koyali smile and play, often following the group as they ran amok. “I can’t wait for her to meet Floralis. I know Koy’s gonna love her too.”

Smiling, Malgam reached over to put his hand over Boxrom’s. “Each day is a step closer.”

Boxrom’s hand held tight to Malgam’s, and he regarded his king fondly; icy blue eyes meeting rich golden. Boxrom pulled his king’s hand to his lips, kissing Malgam’s knuckles.

“Thank you for giving me this time.”

Malgam smiled warmly. “My time is yours to take; as it is for everyone.”

Boxrom grinned. “Then, may I take some of your time tonight?”

Eyeing Boxrom coyly, Malgam’s smile turned into a wry smirk. “Take all the time you need.”

#my writing #PDatSK #The Hierarchy #Malgam #Boxrom #I love writing these folks but again I always flounder when there isn't really a concrete plot

[peonypearls-muddled-musings]

Inks for Boxrom that I’m VERY proud of

#Boxrom #The Hierarchy #PDatSK #my art

[peonypearls-muddled-musings]

Two more members and third married couple of the Hierarchy, medicine man, Boxrom and historian Floralis

#PDatSK #my art #Boxrom #Floralis #The Hierarchy

[peonypearls-muddled-musings]

Sudden Tuvra w one of his kiddos 

#It's one of his kids w Boxrom #as per the orange-red hair #Tuvra #PDatSK #The Hierarchy #my art

[peonypearls-muddled-musings]

I’ve made a couple of posts about Malgam (the guy on the right with the decorative cape), but he’s got company now! (or at least he did way back when lol)

Malgam was the very first shapeshifter to be given form on Earth thousands of years ago, and he was the central driving force of the Shapeshifter takeover, leading humans to either seek a place to hide, or serve the Shifters lest they meet an early end. Towards the end of the Shifters’ reign, he reunites with seven of the original Shifters who he traveled through the stars with. Together, they create a new regime for 3000 years, living and ruling together. Some of them form strong bonds; many of them have children together.

While Malgam, the first and last king and ruler of the Shifters, dearly loves everyone in the Hierarchy, he is fondest of his Lawmaker, Koysov. Malgam’s typically serene countenance balances out Koy’s buzzing bee brain; and Koysov never turns down attention from his king, who is very well his closest and dearest friend in the hierarchy. They both regard the other as close as any husband or wife they’ve had over the centuries.

#PDatSK #my art #they have a ton of kids together thanks to being able to shapeshift #the Hierarchy has a ton of kids together #it's wack #one big fam #there are a few actual couples in the hierarchy #the other two are two ladies Nadlia and Belisia #and then hubby and wife duo Boxrom and Floralis #Koysov is close with Boxrom too but Malgam's eyes shine a certain way only for Koy and he doesn't take that lightly #but the hierarchy is pretty poly overall #The Hierarchy

[peonypearls-muddled-musings]

What else about the Hierarchy can I ramble about does anyone want to know anything specific about them? I really should put some character-specifics into check.

#I have basic personality stuff #Malgam is the serene leader who has chronic nightmares and loves his people but hates humans and will waltz on their bones with his husband #Koysov is a buzzing bee and a socializer and tends to get a bit hyper but can also be kind of petty #Nadlia is motorcycle mom with a big mouth but doesn't talk trash unless provoked #Belisia is pure sunshine and everyone will fight for her #Boxrom is still underdeveloped #Floralis can come off as very serious but is just kind of stern she genuinely loves her big fam #Tuvra is big sensitive and curious science boy #Ev'Elle is very distant because of her duties keeping her on the road a lot #PDatSK #The Hierarchy

[peonypearls-muddled-musings]

Retreat Pt 2

I finally started writing more of this blurb a year and a half later; part 3 will hopefully happen sooner lmao

warnings for: alcohol, ptsd, trauma, mature themes (nothing graphic)

                              *****************************************

The meal had gone well; although Malgam's appetite had disappeared. Flashes of old memories continued to replay through his mind, and he could have sworn if his StarMates looked hard enough, they would be able to see everything through his eyes.

He didn't touch his meal for some time; by the time he prodded at it, it was almost cold. Trinilli was still worried. She'd never seen him in such a state. Certainly he'd been stoic and aloof at times, but the way his brow creased, almost in fear, was new to her; but she didn't want to press on and ask him more questions.

Across from Malgam, Koysov recalled the moment when, some twenty-five years ago, he'd offered for Malgam to seek him out if his nightmares continued. Certainly, Malgam had taken him up on that offer. Koysov had curled in with his king, holding him close and offering comfort, even when Malgam would wake him up with another round of trauma revisiting him in his sleep. He'd found ways, gentle sounds and words and ways to hold him that soothed Malgam, he'd watched him become calm as he fell asleep against Koysov's chest, the room so silent that Koy worried his thundering heartbeat would awaken the man in his arms. Koysov often questioned if he was the right person to do this; and yet, it was he that Malgam solely sought out.

And then; almost as soon as their relationship began to take a new turn, Malgam had announced he needed to take a leave and rest. With the night terrors slowly enveloping his sanity, he had to find a host and reset his body with a leave of slumber - and he was gone for a decade.

Ten years suddenly felt so long to Koysov. The Hierarchy was used to these times when one of them had to sleep and rejuvenate; Koysov had seen it and done so several times now. He missed his StarMates dearly when they left; but Malgam's sudden departure felt as though he'd reached in and hollowed Koysov's heart, taking part of it with him.

And he'd never quite recovered.

Abandonment; again. Like so many of his early lives.

Abandonment in his first life, left at an orphanage due to disfigurement his parents couldn't help. Another early life, a fawn with a bad leg that its mother left behind; and he had to seek out a new host before he died with that body as his true form was desperate for rest. Abandonment as, in his next life, he lived as a young woman that dealt with her husband's infidelity, he decried her worth.

Left behind, shunned, looked down on; Koysov wondered often what it meant for him. When Malgam found him, and they recognized each other and their StarMates and they recalled the Time Before, Koysov suddenly felt found, and remembered, and wanted; although he often felt the old strain of what his hurt had taught him. He was often haughty, callous, judgmental - and time smoothed his rough edges. 

Yet, he yearned so much for what the others had. Trust and comfort. He'd had children with others; but because of his fear of being left behind for not being enough, he'd never allowed himself to be in a vulnerable state. He'd never allowed himself to bear children. It would require being fussed over; and the thought of him in a state of need for very specific care, only to fear being left behind - even though the others loved him dearly - it was enough to make him ill. He yearned so much for what Boxrom and Floralis had found; daily and loyal companionship. Intertwined hearts and hands. For what Nadlia and Belisia had found - gentle and boisterous affection.

He indeed had them. He had all of them; but only at the arms' length he allowed. Fear kept him distant; but it brought him great pain in return when all he wanted was someone's true, honest touch.

Then Malgam returned, and he seemed so much happier. The first time he smiled at Koysov, it was like the early days of Hierarchy. They were all together and happy again; but he didn't seek Koysov out in those nights anymore... No longer did Malgam awaken in a panic to find shelter in his embrace. He was at peace. And Koysov convinced himself he'd served his purpose; and to steel his heart from any further breakage, he simply let it be. And he watched Malgam and Tuvra mingle, resulting in Trinilli, who he was very fond of as an extended daughter; witty and warm like Malgam, and charming and sensitive like Tuvra.

Koysov found his outlet shortly after Malgam became pregnant - by spending a long, tumbling night with Tuvra, resulting in Nashille; his first child in nearly thirty years since Floralis had bore him a daughter.

His gaze remained on Malgam; his eyelids becoming heavy with despair.

Koysov could read what was in those golden eyes.

"Hey Dad!" Nashille's voice broke through the white noise of the restaurant. Koysov's train of thought derailed, and he turned towards his son. "Did you wanna go see a movie tomorrow?"

Looking at his son's smiling face, Koysov felt a balm on his heart. "I'd like that. Aren't you all going swimming tomorrow?"

"Well, after that. You and me!"

"I wanna go see a movie!" Amallia announced, ice cream smeared on her face. Aveltan rolled his eyes at his little sister.

"You don't have to do everything everyone else is doing," He said as Atello poked his head out from behind his brother.

"Yeah some of us kind of want to do stuff with our own folks while we're here."

Nadlia gently thunked Atello on the head. "Hey; we don't do that. Everyone here is 'your folks'," she said, turning to Amallia. "But they're right, it's up to Papa Koy and Nashille."

"I wouldn't recommend it," Tuvra said, pointing his fork at Koysov and Nashille after taking a bit of his dessert. "They're probably going to go watch that new horror movie; I know how they are."

Nashille grinned up at Koysov before looking back at his lifegiver. "That doesn't mean she can't come."

"Absolutely not," Nadlia said.

As more chatter continued, the restaurant became ever more crowded, and the group decided to make their leave, packing up any leftovers ans boxes of treats Tuvra and Belisia had brought with them. Piling back into the car and driving down a scenic, winding road, the crew finally arrived at the cabin - reserved only for the royal family. A handsome, sprawling mansion sitting on the cusp of a mountain's base, a waterfall roaring nearby as it filled a crystal-clear lagoon.

Malgam hoped he could find solace there later by himself.

The kids raced to the front door, entering happily as Belisia grinned; she'd planned a little treat for them, and as the parents all entered, they saw the front room flooded with decorations while the youngsters cheered and babbled with each other.

"Bels are you serious?" Nadlia asked as the kids found customized treat boxes on a coffee table. Tuvra sighed.

"She is; she roped me into this," he said, looking up at the clusters of balloons tied to the railway of the stairs and to foil paperweights, signaling each of the different gifts for the kids.

Belisia puffed her chest out. "It makes them happy."

Between the kids talking amongst each other about their spoils, Malgam took time to note Trinilli's happiness before he tried to make a quick exit; but a hand on his arm caused him hesitation as he turned.

He could have sworn his heart audibly cracked as Koysov looked at him in concern.

"Are you okay?"

"Koy I'm... I'm fine. I'm just... I'm tired."

"You can tell me-"

"I know; and... I'm telling you. I promise," Malgam painted a false smile on his face. "I'm fine."

Koysov knew he was lying.

"... Alright. You... You know where you can find me."

Malgam nodded quickly. "Thank you," he said, no more than a murmur. Koysov's hand slowly released Malgam's from its grip, and he silently retreated upstairs, towards the hall leading to the bedrooms. He walked fast as he reached his room at the end of the hall, and he nearly threw himself inside, locking the door quickly. He braced himself on the doorframe, doing his best to catch his breath. He ran his hands over his shock of red hair, shaking as his thoughts raced.

He approached his bed, sitting and trying to maintain his composure.

Part of it was the vividness of the memory - the other was that the memories had returned so quickly and in full force. His hands trembled; when would he ever be free?

Koysov's expression now lingered fresh in his mind. The concern he showed stitched into the lines on his face. Malgam's ribcage felt dangerously tight. The worst feeling of wanting something right in front of him ate him alive; and yet it reminded him all the same that maybe he really was in the midst of losing himself like he was some twenty five years ago; and he couldn't tell which frightened him more. Losing himself, or losing another budding relationship he would pour his heart into - like Nadlia. Like Boxrom. Like Tuvra.

He curled inward on the bed, pulling his knees to his chest as he laid on his side, his hands knitted together on his stomach as it turned. He simply tried to relax, tried to sink into the soft bed, into the luxurious blankets. He should be downstairs, celebrating with his daughter the the others; and more guilt poisoned his insides.

Still standing halfway up the stairs, Koysov felt stuck, his heart worried for Malgam, but his feet didn't dare budge.

"Papa Koy?"

Koysov turned to find Trinilli. She looked up to him, her golden eyes brimming with concern. "Is my dad okay?"

Koysov finally moved, knowing which way he needed to turn for now as he descended the stairs and enveloped her hands his. "I... I want to say yes for you; but I've seen this before. It's... I don't know if it's going to get bad again, or maybe it's just a fluke."

"What do you mean?" She asked. Koysov shook his head.

"... Your father; he's plagued by old wounds. I'm sure you've seen his scars."

Trinilli nodded; on rare occasions he would roll up a sleeve, and she would see ragged marks down his arms; or something peeking up the collar of his shirt.

"They're a source of great pain; horrible memories. Things that he thinks he has to suffer alone through."

"Suffer?" Trinilli asked. Koysov closed his eyes.

"His first life. It wasn't good to him. Things have gotten better; but the trauma is stamped so firmly into his psyche..." his eyes trailed off, not noticing Trinilli watching, listening to the way his voice wavered ever so slightly.

"Papa Koy?"

Koysov's attention returned to her. She opened her mouth, but didn't quite know what to say. She didn't know how to ask what she was barely able to put her finger on, but seeing Koysov's saddened eyes, the way he watched her father's trail upstairs... she was young, and the entire Hierarchy served as her parents - but this was different than the gentle affections she'd seen from her caregivers. Koysov's entirety seemed pulled away by this situation; but she stuck to a subject she was far more able to put words to.

"I... I want to help him."

"So do I; but I think the best way for you to help him right now is to be with your siblings."

"How can I do that when he's in pain?"

"He... may be in more pain if we force him to talk before he's ready. Please, believe me, Trin. If there's anything we can do for him right now, it's to just be ready when he is."

Trinilli took heed of his words and she nodded. She reached in, hugging him, and he held her back.

"Thank you, Papa Koy."

"Anything for you, Starling," Koysov said, kissing the top of her head. He smiled at her as Nashille and Atello ran over, already munching on popcorn.

“Come on, Trin! We’re putting in a movie!” Atello said, mouth full of snacks. Trinilli smiled at Koysov again as she joined her brothers and sister, the herd stomping off happily to enjoy their evening. 

The adults dispersed through the mansion as everyone settled into their spaces. Tuvra and Nadlia occupied the wet bar as Belisia had already made herself comfortable in her art studio, Koysov found the study, with a clear view of the lagoon through a decorative, glass panel wall. He took to the sitting area, where he opened one of the windows built into the glass panel, able to hear the waterfall as it roared nearby. There were still lights strung up and around the decorative patio and pool that had been there for decades that offered a feeling of warmth.

Yet, while he remained in this room, he didn't feel pressed to read the tomes that filled the bookshelves. Instead, he simply leaned out of the window as he breathed in the spirit of the woods, the cool of the night. He smiled, the evening sounds bringing back memories from one of his closest families, a wolf pack.

They were a small family, but close. He'd had littermates he played with, learned to howl with. It had been one of the lives he felt truly safe and cared for in. One of the few lives he'd been a leader in. He led a strong pack, had a loyal mate who gave him beautiful, healthy children; he felt truly whole for so many years - until that body finally perished; and his real form, which had rested dormant for the wolf's lifecycle, sprouted back into view after being no more than a microorganism for so many years. His body, now rejuvenated, took a new form just moments after the husk had passed; and he stood next to the body, looking upon it like a mirror. He put his hand to its fur, thankful for what this body had provided for him.

What it had provided, not only in shelter, but also the gift now sewn into his blood.

Why not? He was on vacation, after all.

Calling upon the coding buried within him, his shape contorted, not painfully; but, instead, rather gracefully. As a coating of grey and ivory fur took over his new form, Koysov bounded from the window, now supported by thick, padded paws. He ran from the patio, down towards the lagoon, where he stopped to take a drink before sprinting into the woods in front of him. The cool, damp night air, the moonlight shining down; he heard the snap of twigs underneath him, leaves rustling in his wake. He raced and jumped and let his senses run free.

Freedom from the everyday demands.

Free from thoughts and and worries that plagued him.

Free from-

Free from...

His run stopped. He looked out over a clearing, over a hill that the moon shone over, over a prairie of wildflowers and mountains in the distance. He looked at this place, and all he could think about was Malgam. Malgam and the first time they reunited some centuries ago.

He'd had Nadlia in tow, the two of them in the forms they were in now. Koysov looked different; brown hair and blue eyed; in a smaller frame than he was now, something drew him to the others. As eyes met, memories began to flicker; Koysov couldn't tear himself away from the two he had thought were strangers. Malgam and Nadlia introduced themselves; and soon names poured from each other that had only been heard in the Time Before. Names they couldn't remember being given, but were theirs. Names only they would say in the most secret of spaces and most sacred moments.

It was that moment Koysov chose his new body and name, traveling with the other two in search of what remained of their StarMates.

He never knew what was to become. This new life, the Hierarchy; how they'd all changed and evolved into who they were now.

Koysov recalled travelling with Malgam, and their camaraderie was immediately true. Malgam found a trust in him, and Koysov's wisdom, balance and unwavering advice earned him the title of Lawmaker. He'd been so honored; felt so achieved as the eight came together once more and ushered in a new reign.

The bows of the people sated a hunger Koysov did not like to admit. A glance at Malgam, and his serenity, his calm duty to those who looked to him, who held their hands out as he took them...

Malgam, so scarred and so afraid; the high king took to his duty calling himself a servant.

Koysov, third in line, left behind so many times, craved the humility of others.

It was this that often brought about the other side of the lingering question of Koysov's worth... was he truly fit to love his king?

The king who had no idea of his own mind, locked away in his room, his eyes just opening as he awoke from a much-needed slumber. He didn't realize he'd fallen asleep. He'd curled up, mind racing, trembling, until exhaustion took over. He could still smell the sea on his shirt.

Sitting up, Malgam heaved a sigh; he could hear echoes of laughter from downstairs, which brought him a sense of peace, knowing there was some happiness inside of the cabin.

He stood, approaching a small fridge under a desk, wondering if Tuvra and Belisia had fulfilled their promise, and indeed he found a bottle of Mardra inside.

Shifting his hand to use a talon to remove the cork, he didn't bother with a glass. Silently, he pressed the rim of the bottle to his pale lips, like a desperate kiss; silhouetted against the lavender leaking into in the dark room as he hoped the drink would blur his senses just enough to maintain a sense of calm. Half a bottle gone in seconds, and he paused not only to catch his breath, but to save some for later. He put the bottle back into the fridge, wiping his lips with the back of his hand. He wanted so much to just go back out and be happy, to find his StarMates and relax with them; to go downstairs with the kids and see their joy, to share these moments as they grew up.

But a look at his pale hand, smeared with sticky Mardra; a hopeful remedy for the memories he tried to quell; memories that made him feel as though he needed to stay locked away so he wasn't a burden. He'd already worried his daughter, he'd worried Koysov.

Looking out the window, to the warm lights strung around the empty spaces of the property, he felt his heart again. Like the lights illuminating enough to see, thinking about the Lawmaker made the suffocating nothingness of his pain just a little more bearable. He could still recall Koysov's embrace, even twenty five years later. Malgam wrapped his arms around himself, hoping to replicate just enough of that hold to calm his mind, dredged in the past as his heart tried to beat in the sticky substance that was uncertainty.

Out of all of them, it was Koysov. He could never pinpoint it. Perhaps it was his forthcoming nature of giving Malgam his time; perhaps it was that he never turned his king away; the way he never became angry if Malgam jolted awake as though he'd been burned again, as he reeled with the feeling that his old wounds were once again cut fresh by old tools that had left his body marred, no matter what form he took. They'd cut him down, down, to the tightly raveled spools of his existence buried deep in his body; to the coils of his genetics that no amount of new DNA could cover up, no matter how many hosts he'd inhabited.

Koysov never turned away. But would any of the others? No, he knew that.

But it was how he never turned away. He never blindly swept Malgam's fears to quiet him. He never told him 'you have nothing to fear'; when all he did at times was fear.

Instead, Koysov had looked into his king's eyes, his own yearning for sleep that he put off to ensure Malgam's sanity. Malgam tried to apologize, he tried to tear away; he was plaguing his loved ones; but instead, Koysov pulled Malgam back towards his chest, making the king lie down with him once more. One of his arms cradled Malgam, the other stroked his cheek, wiping away a tear. "My lord," he'd started. "I'm not a brave man, nor a strong man; but everything about you is safe here with me."

His hands pressing against his chest, clothed with his black shirt, Malgam felt his heart rattling in its dusty ribcage.

The dust in the cage sloughed off with each particular realization that...

His fingers dug into his shirt as he trembled.

That...

He remembered Koysov's hums as he held Malgam, calming and soft.

No; this realization couldn't happen... He couldn't go around believing this again.

He needed air; he needed clarity.

Rushing to the window, Malgam leapt from the room, onto the patio. He quickly began tearing his clothing, awkwardly slipping off his shoes as he climb aboard the banister, jumping into the air to let gravity take his body. He closed his eyes, holding his breath as he dove into the water, plunging into an abyss as he relaxed his body. He lingered in that moment, air escaping slowly in the form of bubbles from his mouth as he let the pressure of the water envelop him, embrace him. The shock of the cold erased the heat of his anxieties.

He opened his eyes, looking through the dark of the lagoon, able to see windows to the other side through the crashing waves he'd created. What he wouldn't have done to just curl up in this abyss, just to stay and not have to wonder the truth of his own thoughts.

But he knew the truth he would have to face as soon as he broke the surface.

The realization of a love that overwhelmed his heart all the same as the embrace of the water around him.

#tw alcohol #tw ptsd #tw trauma #my writing #PDatSK #The Hierarchy

[peonypearls-muddled-musings]

The sunshine was new and bright in his office as Malgam had only begun reviewing much-ignored documents within the past hour. Propping his elbow onto his desk, then resting his chin on his hand, he scribbled his signature on countless lines, either setting them into a tray for Koysov to claim, or sealing them into sturdy envelopes with his signature golden emblem to be taken and sent by the palace chamberlain. He paused to write out another location on an envelope, smiling at the recipient. This envelope was to be sent out to the kingdom one of his daughters led on the other side of the world. 

He was a proud father, and a proud king of a world of Shapeshifters. Malgam and his fellow Originals had seen to the rise of new and stronger generations over the past four centuries; and the Hierarchy continued to ensure the preservation of their species.

As Malgam began writing his signature on another document, The door to his office shuddered and creaked open, and as Malgam set another document into Koysov’s tray, he looked up to find his chief of medicine and fellow Original, Boxrom.

“Good morning,” Malgam greeted happily, finishing the scribble of his signature. “You look well.”

Boxrom chuckled, shaking his head as his wispy auburn hair fell over his gray eyes. Of course he looked well to Malgam; Boxrom was expecting another one of his children. 

“You’re up bright and early,” Boxrom said, pulling a chair up to the handsome desk. Malgam hummed, pulling up another document. 

“I haven’t been this behind on paperwork for some time. Between chasing down war rumors, the humans running amok over in East Unell, Reparations to old infrastructure that Barthley failed to inform me of… It’s been a mess.”

He ignored addressing the dark circles around his eyes; which were even more pronounced these days, but Boxrom hesitated to mention anything about them, hoping to keep his king in fair spirits, even though his intentions were a bit selfish. Boxrom fidgeted, and Malgam noticed the typically unusual act from him, and he straightened out the next document.

“You have something on your mind.” Malgam said, not as a question, but in acknowledgement. He looked up as Boxrom nodded.

“I hope I’m not out of line in what I’m about to ask, my lord,”

Malgam looked on, his brow furrowed in confusion as Boxrom began making his case.

“So… when Floralis and I welcomed our sons last week-”

“They are well?” Malgam interrupted, fearing the worst.

“Yes, sir, they’re perfect,” Boxrom smiled, relieving Malgam of any worry.

“Good; I’m sorry, proceed.”

“When… we had a moment, we got to talking and… I thought through these past few months Floralis had been acting strange. I took it to be hormones. But it turned out she revealed to me she… she said she loves me.”

Malgam smirked. “She has every right to.”

Boxrom’s mouth opened, but he hesitated. “I think it’s different than… us. Than the intertwinings of all of us.” His hands continued to speak with him, his fingers lacing as he tried his best to word what he’d been lost to. “She and I both know we can’t stop our duties to the future of our species. But… when it comes to life for us, she wants us to share it. Not away from the rest of you and the others; but to share our time, and our trials, and our achievements together.”

“Together,” Malgam said softly. 

Boxrom swallowed. “I’ve been feeling the same about her. She and I; we are together often. We talk and laugh and study, and…” Boxrom looked up at his king; the golden eyes that made his heart leap. “I love you, and the rest of us. But I… I want to marry Floralis.”

Malgam’s serene countenance didn’t budge with this announcement.

And that scared Boxrom.

“Over this past week, being with our boys, we mesh so well, we communicate at a rate I haven’t felt or seen with the others. We just… have a bond.”

“Marriage,” Malgam said quietly, bringing his hand to his chin as he contemplated. When was the last time he’d been married? Nearly a millennium ago. That’s right; he’d had a wife. She was good and kind and light-humored. He smiled somberly, remembering golden days with her, and her gentle countenance, and unwavering friendship. 

But; as part of the Hierarchy, marriage hadn’t been much of a need. The eight counted on one another for companionship, love, and family. 

“But,” Boxrom said, his voice already quaking. “I don’t want it to seem like I’m choosing. I can’t… I couldn’t take it to show favoritism. But Floralis is…” Boxrom’s hand touched his chest. “It feels like she just lives here within me,” he said, pressing again on his chest. “I have grown to enjoy and appreciate everything about her; and I seek her out daily now. Please, my lord; if you don’t accept it; then… do you at least understand what I mean?”

Malgam looked at Boxrom, who feared the worst; but Malgam simply set his pen to the side.

“I do understand. I know that each of us are different; we have our views and visions and minds about the world and what we do. Some days I understand it’s hard to be around a small, set group day after day.”

Boxrom nodded. 

“But we do what we must to preserve our future. With that said… To find one that your soul calls out to; who am I to deny such a treasure?”

Boxrom perked up, looking at Malgam. The king’s heavy, but often empty, eyes looked down to his desk.

It had been so long since he’d had someone his own soul felt whole with. He had the Hierarchy, and indeed they loved and adored their king; but that feeling of being whole; of being warm and lifted and bathed in light. He hadn’t felt it for centuries. He looked up at Boxrom, and he realized why the doctor had looked so much lighter these days. He smiled and stood, rounding the desk as Boxrom stood. 

Malgam put his hand on Boxrom’s shoulder. “You both have my blessing.”

Boxrom stood, looking at Malgam both in reverence and excitement.

“You mean it?”

“Of course I do; I’m not going to give you false hope,” Malgam smiled, touching Boxroms cheek. “I knew there was some chance that some of us would be drawn more to a select few in the group; but the marriage won’t-”

“I know, sir,” Boxrom said. “We’ve spoken about that; we will continue our duties to our people and our future; like we promised.”

Malgam smiled, reaching in to kiss Boxrom’s cheek. He peeled away and looked Boxrom over.

“So how soon do you want the ceremony to be? Because fittings for you may be… a bit complicated,” Malgam said, regarding Boxrom’s current state. Boxrom laughed.

“We… would actually like to proceed as soon as we realistically can. We’ve done so much waiting in our lives… if this is something we can do soon, we would be thankful.”

Thinking silently, Malgam chewed on his thumbnail, his eyes looking around as he pondered. Then his golden gaze looked up to Boxrom as his posture remained in thought. “I’ll make it happen,” he said with a smile. Boxrom, emotional, reached forward to embrace his king; who answered by holding Boxrom tight. “I’m happy for you two. Truly.”

For a moment they remained; Malgam fought for his own emotions as Boxrom was an unspoken favorite in his eyes. Boxrom’s witty countenance, his charm, and his curiosity could always bring joy to the king. Their friendship and countenance was known as one of the strongest in the Hierarchy; but for Malgam to see two of his fellow Originals so close that, for the first time in centuries, marriage had been uttered, it was both exciting and worrisome.

And he did admit, a bit of him felt left behind; but he hoped the others would be happy for them.

Boxrom pulled away, his gray eyes glistening. “This doesn’t change anything for you, my lord,” he murmured, putting Malgam’s hand on his chest. “You are still my guiding light.”

Malgam smiled, pleased to hear this.

“And I will continue to light your way. Go on; go rest; I’ll take care of everything from here.”

Watching Boxrom finally tear away from him, Malgam watched, folding his arms behind him, as Boxrom made his exit. The door clicked shut, and Malgam turned back towards his desk; noting the new angle of the rays of the sun through his tall, decorative windows. He sat, both lost in thought and inspired as he texted another in the Hierarchy.

_____________

“How’s the fit?”

Boxrom looked in the mirror, adjusting the cravat at his neck. “Well, it’s going to work either way.”

Boxrom allowed Belisia, the resident artist of the Hierarchy, to circle him, tugging and fastening his garb as he looked in a mirror.

“How many people are out there?” He asked. Belisia pulled a safety pin out of her mouth and tucked another layer in. 

“Well, it’s the first wedding of the Hierarchy, so… a lot,” she said absentmindedly. She rounded him, moving continuously like a hummingbird. Her expert fingers adjusted and tweaked as fast as they could as he stood still for her.

Boxrom wore a handsome dark copper suit that parted just at the top of his bump, allowing a pleated ivory tunic to drape down. His cravat was golden against the neck of the tunic to match the gold scrollwork on his suit. He wore dark slacks that Belisia had to alter quickly, but otherwise, she smiled. “Lookin’ good,” she beamed, smoothing out her own lavender dress, dotted with yellow and pink fabric flowers. “Floralis wanted her dress to match your ensemble.”

“What, no white?”

Belisia smirked up at Boxrom. “Wearing white at a wedding was already outdated in human customs. And if we’re going by human customs; trust me, none of us should be wearing white.”

Boxrom laughed as Belisia added the final touch of jewelry and baubles, complete with an ornate circlet on top of his head. 

Boxrom noticed a sliver of light appear in he mirror, and a figure stood at the doorway. “You look as radiant as Floralis.” 

Turning to see the source of the voice, Boxrom smiled as Malgam entered, his chest puffed with pride as he was dressed impeccably for the occasion. 

“My lord, Flor is always radiant. As are you.”

Belisia straightened up, playfully pouting.

“And you, of course, dearest Bel. I can’t thank you enough.”

Smiling, Bel added a ring with a crest to the hand opposite the one that would wear Floralis’ ring, and she kissed his knuckles. “Thanks for giving me something new to do.”

Belisia bustled out of the room, leaving Boxrom and Malgam.

“Nervous?” Malgam asked. Boxrom laughed. 

“I’ve faced much scarier futures that I’ve survived. This is a journey I’ll enjoy partaking in.”

“And we will see you both through it.” Malgam said, gently stroking his knuckles against Boxrom’s cheekbone; the doctor closed his eyes, touching his king’s hand. “Shall we?”

Putting his arm in Malgam’s as they walked down the grand staircase of the Gathering Hall, they passed the numerous flower arrangements that circled the pillars and staircases. “The people are excited. I think this was, in essence, a very good idea.”

“You think so?” Boxrom asked. Malgam nodded.

“Apparently merchants have been profiting off of this. The city is bustling.”

And certainly, as they neared the main hall, Boxrom could hear the crowd inside; but his attention was soon broken as he saw someone waiting in the atrium. 

Holding a generous bouquet of burgundy lilies and draping ivory wisteria, Floralis turned his way, and Boxrom halted for a second to look at her. Her long, dark hair had been pinned up in an ornate fashion, completed with her own circlet around her forehead. Her eyes gleamed, surrounded with eyeshadow in colors of cream and rust to accentuate her dark eyes and the colors of her gown, which mirrored his. She wore an empire-waist to flatter her figure, which was still recovering from having twins; and it trailed behind her, the cloth expertly embroidered and pleated; she glittered and gleamed no matter what angle she turned in; and he smiled as she turned his way. She caught his gaze and she gasped, lighting up.

“Look at you!” They both said to each other as they approached. Malgam let go of Boxrom’s hand as the two looked upon their soon-to-be spouse. He watched, silent, patient, and proud.

“Stars; I can’t remember the last time I saw you so dressed up!” Floralis said, taking note of the fine attire. Boxrom laughed.

“I haven’t had a need to be,” he said, sighing as he took in the sight of her. “But you; oh; you’re beautiful.”

Malgam silently walked past, and as they turned to him, he nodded. Boxrom and Floralis stood side-by-side, arm in arm, as Malgam opened the doors.

The crowds didn’t slow them down, even with the room at capacity. Boxrom and Floralis approached the altar, with Malgam leading the way. The people bowed as Malgam walked past, holding their postures as the three Originals walked past. Floralis held tight to Boxrom’s hands as they looked around at the room, decorated at great length with what felt like more flowers than they’d ever seen in their lives.

Stepping up to the altar after Malgam, Boxrom and Floralis faced each other, holding hands as the event commenced. They looked down to the front row, where the rest of their Originals sat, and they smiled as Nadlia held one of their boys, the other sleeping in the pram. Koysov sat next to her, poised to approach the stage soon to officiate the ceremony. Belisia took her seat between Nadlia and Tuvra. Tuvra seemed the least interested in the ceremony, but the infamous hermit was known to dislike crowds, However, next to him, Ev’Elle was just happy to be able to join in the ceremony, as her work kept her away often.

Malgam motioned for the crowd to sit, and he nodded for Koysov to approach. The spindly lawmaker bustled up the steps, and he took to the stand. Before he spoke, he regarded his fellow Originals with a smile. He put his hands on theirs, warmly and protectively. His bright green eyes met Floralis’ deep brown, and Boxrom’s sky-gray before he looked out to the crowd to speak.

“Four hundred and fifty-seven years ago, it was us that remained of the Travelers. Eight of us out of the original nineteen, from whom the populus at large had sprung. And to this day, eight of us still continue to provide to the populus. We gathered together for the first time since the very beginning, to create a new life for this world, and for ourselves. And today, we celebrate a new chapter in that life.”

Boxrom shook, not worrying about the people, but in anticipation of this event. He pressed his forehead to Floralis’, their circlets clinking as they did.

Koysov smiled. “Our beloved Boxrom and Floralis have come together, soul by soul, to create a new union. We are proud and excited to join them in this journey; and to see them through it.”

Koysov nodded to Malgam, who then provided two important pieces; rings for the two that he placed into their hands. He put Boxrom’s sturdy, dark band in Floralis’ hand, and Floralis’ filigree-style ring into Boxrom’s.

“With tokens of a permanent promise, they bind their past, present, and future. Here, they combine their lives, their days and nights; their trials and happiness; their successes and failures.”

Boxrom slipped the ornate ring onto Floralis’ finger as she smiled at him; she then took his hand, sliding his dark band on before he encased her hands in his, kissing her fingers.

“Commencing today, they share what the other has to give; and we are here to help provide. And today is the start of what we give to them; our love and hope for their future.”

Boxrom and Floralis looked to Koysov as he offered a rare, beaming smile, and he raised his hand above them, signaling his officiation. 

“From this moment on, they are hereby bound to each other, heart and soul, as husband and wife. By proclamation of hearts and ink to page, they begin their next steps as one.”

Koysov lowered his hand, looking at the two. He then blinked, realizing he wasn’t sure how to end the ceremony, and he said with a murmur: “I suppose this is where you guys kiss.”

Laughing, Floralis and Boxrom were eager to cap off the ceremony, and they met each others’ lips happily, and they reveled in the cheers and applause from the crowd. Parting, they looked to their fellow Originals, who shared their excitement; even glum Tuvra offered a smile as he clapped.

The reception was like a ball, glamorous, exciting, full of dance and song and laughter. Boxrom and Floralis walked through the crowd, both holding one of their twins, as they greeted guests. Malgam watched from the table of honor, happy to see the newlyweds already in sync as they rounded the room to meet back up, exchange twins and a kiss, and return to the floor. 

“‘Bout time he should be getting off his feet, isn’t it?” Koysov suggested, returning to his seat with a glass of wine and a generous slice of cake. Malgam smirked.

“You know Boxrom can’t sit for longer than a blink,” he said, much to Koysov’s agreement. “That was a nice speech.”

Koysov laughed. “I, uh, wrote it last night. I’m not good with this romance stuff.”

“Could have fooled me,” Malgam chuckled.

Koysov regarded his king, making sure to not talk with a mouthful of fluff and icing. “You look tired.”

“… Nothing out of the ordinary.”

Koysov worked through the thick icing of his next bite as he knew that wasn’t true.

“You should talk to someone about them. Don’t go suffering through these nightmares alone,” he said. 

Malgam turned to his lawmaker; for a rare moment, a veil of fear shone in his face. “How... how did you know?”

Koysov hesitated to take another bite of the cake. He turned to Malgam as camera lights began flashing.

“You fell asleep in your study the other day when I came to get the documents you’ve been reviewing. You were talking and...;”

Koysov paused, finding his words. There was more to it; Malgam hadn’t just been talking in his sleep; he was begging. Pleading; then threatening.

“...and I didn’t know how to wake you without...”

“Without?”

“... You were shifting; your hands became claws; you were angry.”

Malgam realized it. Koysov feared for his safety. 

“You were the one who slammed the door,” Malgam said. Koysov nodded. 

“Yes, sir. I took my leave and thought that would help wake you. I looked back in and you had woken up; so I resumed my duties.”

Malgam looked at him, the bustle of the crowd now seeming so far away. Koysov tried to find more words to soothe his king.

“If you have more nightmares, come find me. Besides; I don’t go to bed til late anyway,” he said quickly, finally stabbing another helping of cake off of the plate.

Blinking, Malgam registered the offer. “Thank you, Koysov,”

Hesitantly, Koysov reached over to touch his king’s hand before he managed to look him in the eyes. Koysov wasn’t romantic; and Malgam was surprised even at the offer of help. 

“I know you and Boxrom have always been close; and this has probably been... quite a day for you. But... you will never be truly alone, my lord. Not if I have anything to do about it.”

Malgam opened his mouth to speak, but the crowd drowned out any hope of words. They Hierarchy looked out to see Boxrom and Floralis meeting at the center of the room, sharing a quick kiss, holding their boys, and smiling for photos.

Malgam felt Koysov’s hand remain on his; and with a gaze towards the lawmaker once more, Malgam could have sworn he felt that brightness in his heart gleam somewhere in the dark.

#my writing #PDatSK #The Hierarchy

[peonypearls-muddled-musings]

Jogging down the hallway, Malgam kept his cloak out from under his feet as his boots signaled his trek from the palace garage up towards one of the apartments. 

The last text he’d received from Floralis was ‘They’re here’.

Attempting to quell the burning in his throat, Malgam hated that he’d missed everything. The meeting had gone on for so long, he didn’t have the chance to look at his phone the whole day. Being king required sacrifice; but this was a sacrifice he was known to not want to make.

He approached Floralis’ apartment, where he’d been authorized to enter without knocking. He slowly opened the door, painstakingly ensuring it didn’t announce his arrival, and he peered in to find Floralis in the living area, quietly scrawling notes for her next tome. Malgam entered slowly, his footsteps absorbed by the plush carpet.

“Flor,” he whispered. She looked up, her smile caught in the one single light above her. 

“They’re in the main room,” she responded. Malgam stepped forward, about to ask more, but she already knew his concerns. “They’re fine. He’s probably awake by now. Go on.”

Excited and nervous, Malgam took to the stairs to find Boxrom. Entering the foyer of the second floor, he knew Floralis’ bedroom was at the end of the hall. He passed her study, and the nursery, where hers and Boxrom’s twin sons were being raised. Like in a dream, he eventually found his way to the door, where his hand had to be convinced to grip the handle. Swallowing, Malgam, once more, opened the door slowly. He poked his head in, finding Boxrom as he looked up from within the bed; and despite his matted hair and exhausted eyes, his mouth ticked in his usual crooked smile.

“You’re late.” 

Malgam’s heart nearly burst at the sight of the tiny bundle in the crook of Boxroms’ left arm; a medical tool brochure was in his lap as he leafed through it. 

Malgam was at the bed within a breath, and Boxrom had to quickly calm his king.

“Boxrom; I’m sorry. I-I... are you... are they-”

“I’m fine; she’s fine.”

Malgam looked into Boxrom’s gray eyes as the doctor closed his brochure and shifted the newborn over into Malgam’s arms. Malgam looked at his new daughter, swaddled in a thick, ivory blanket. A tiny patch of red hair coated what was visible of her head. She scrunched her little nose, shuffling in her blanket as she became comfortable against her father’s chest. Malgam beamed, sitting on the edge of the bed as he looked back at Boxrom.

“Everything was alright?”

“Nothing out of the ordinary. Floralis ensured everything went smoothly,” Boxrom yawned.

“Stars,” Malgam whispered, his thumb stroking the baby’s pink cheek. “She’s perfect.”

Boxrom scooted to sit up, moving his makeshift throne of pillows. “Medically speaking, she’s a bit small. I’ll take her to my office in the morning.”

Malgam half-listened; he turned towards Boxrom, still gleaming. Boxrom patted next to him on the bed, and Malgam scooted over to rest next to him. They looked at the slumbering child. 

“Where are the boys?” Malgam asked quietly. Boxrom’s eyes remained on their daughter.

“Nadlia was kind enough to babysit with Bels tonight. Floralis suggested that you can room here in the meantime, so we can talk things over; make sure she’s okay,” Boxrom yawned again. Malgam smiled.

“I’d like that.”

A soft, lulling silence fell between them as their daughter’s little hand reached up, and Malgam offered her one of his fingers, which she gripped tightly as she slumbered.

“What kind of name ideas do you have?” Boxrom asked.

Malgam laughed softly. “Everything and nothing. How about you?”

Boxrom shook his head, unable to keep from smiling. “I have little to offer myself.”

Closing his eyes, Malgam pondered for a moment. Of all of the places he’d seen, the people he’d known through his life. He’d once had another red-headed daughter in one of his past lives. She’d inherited from him, who was, then, the girl’s mother, married to a kind, but emotionally withdrawn man. He eventually would leave Malgam alone to raise their daughter, and Malgam never faltered. He and his daughter had a close relationship; until she was taken by illness after she had become a mother herself, and he did his best to help her widower raise his grandson and granddaughter before moving on to his next life.

He remembered his daughter’s name. 

“Boxrom; how about Edeli?”

Mulling the choice over, Boxrom reached out to touch his daughter’s hand; her soft, tiny fingers; her pudgy palm. He felt his instinct to protect her grow by the second.

“Edeli,” Boxrom murmured, trying the name out. “Edeli... you know; I think it works.”

“We can call her Eddie for short,” Malgam grinned. Boxrom looked up, tired.

“Hey, how about we not.”

Malgam choked a cackle, doing his best to not be too loud. “I’m sorry. I’m just... Stars, I’m so happy. Thank you, Boxrom.”

He couldn’t not give his king a look of adoration; Boxrom looked into that golden gaze as he’d done so many times.

“I’d do it all over again for you. One day, I know I will.”

“But next it’ll be me. I haven’t in some time now.”

Shuffling again, Boxrom remained leaning on Malgam.

“How about you talk to Koy about it? I... I think I’ve seen you two spending more time together.”

Koysov. Malgam thought about the lawmaker and, indeed, something stirred in that dusty ribcage.

“Koysov and I... I’m not sure. I enjoy his company; and we are fast becoming closer than we have ever been. But we are currently just enjoying each other’s time. Once Edeli is older, perhaps I will ask him.”

Boxrom put one of his hand’s over Malgam’s.

“Or maybe... maybe it’s time for you to just let yourself love.”

Malgam swallowed. He regarded the typically impish doctor in a new light. 

“We’ve all been together for a long time. We’re all still making sense of past lives and loves. Maybe it’s time for you to slow down a bit. Floralis and I found each other. Maybe you should see if Koysov is in your future; or maybe Nadlia? You two have always been close.”

It was true that Malgam’s second in command had always been one of his most trusted and true friends. Malgam’s children with Nadlia had all grown to become stalwart leaders that he was immensely proud of. But, he knew, Nadlia had recently started taking a shining to Belisia. The two were quickly becoming media darlings.

“Maybe,” Malgam responded. “But perhaps you’re right. We’ve seen to another generation; now it’s time to raise them right, and slow down. To see to our people; and our world.”

“Or find a hobby besides paperwork,” Boxrom said, revealing that impish side one more time. Malgam leaned over, pressing his forehead to Boxrom’s.

“Perhaps you would like to assist me in that?”

Laughing, Boxrom only pressed back, looking into Malgam’s eyes.

“I would love to. You know we all would.”

He was right; Malgam knew it. He sighed, pressing a kiss to Boxrom’s nose.

“Then I suppose I’ll start here; simply making sure my family is happy.”

#The Hierarchy #PDatSK #my writing

[peonypearls-muddled-musings]

Retreat pt 1

“Don’t go out too far!”

Nadlia’s shouts were heard, but were they really? The four youths rushed ahead, with a smaller one trailing behind. Nadlia sighed, shaking her head as Belisia laughed beside her, taking her arm.

“We haven’t been here in a long time,” she said, turning around. “It’s been a while for all of us.”

Behind her, Malgam, Koysov, and Tuvra trailed as well. They approached the fine stone and steel bridge that led them across the ravine, which led into the vast ocean; ahead of them was Pelterra, a recreational district famous for it’s seaside views, merchants, food, and the Spinning Wheel, a giant ferris wheel in the middle of the island that lit up the sky at night. 

The five, short of three, decided to bring their children here as a birthday gift. They had all been born this month some thirteen years ago as another generational boom; save for the smallest one

Atello was the oldest, and Nadlia’s born son to Belisia. Joining him was Trinilli, Malgam’s born daughter to Tuvra; Aveltan was Belisia’s born son to Tuvra, and Nashille, the son Tuvra had borne for Koysov. And then there was little Amallia; Belisia’s born daughter to Nadlia, who was seven today. Her older siblings had put a little plastic tiara on her bright blond hair early that morning and she’d insisted it stay on through the whole trip; and she held it on as she chased after them over the bridge.

“I think they’re as excited as we are,” Tuvra laughed; he rubbed his hands together. “I think I’m hitting that new cupcake shop.”

“Ooh, not without me!” Belisia said, peeling back to put her arm in his. Nadlia feigned a pout as she turned, walking backwards. 

“I thought you were gonna join me at the archery range.”

“You really think I’m gonna sit and watch you flex when I could be having cupcakes?”

Nadlia mulled this over, shrugging. “Touche; what about you guys?” She asked, looking over at Malgam and Koysov. 

Malgam looked out to the sea. “I haven’t been to the beach in some time. I’ll go sit by the shore.” 

Koysov’s hands dug into his pockets. He peered over to his king; and he wanted to join him. But something blocked his heart from saying what it wanted.

“What about you, Koy?” Nadlia asked. “Wanna try your hand at some archery?”

“I think you’d be good at it, Koysov!” Tuvra insisted; but the lawmaker just smiled and shook his head, pulling out a package of cigarettes. 

“I’m no athlete. But I am good at a game of pool if you want to join me at Corello’s.”

Nadlia grinned. “Screw the archery then; you got yourself a drinking buddy,” she said as Koysov jogged ahead, taking her arm in his as she laughed. The remaining three watched Nadlia pluck Koysov’s cigarette and take a drag as he talked before she put it back in his mouth, exhaling ring after perfect ring.

As they passed the kids, the elders spoke to them quickly as they watched ducks down in the ravine. The kids each purchased plastic bubbles of pellets and dried corn from squeaky, metal clunkers of machines, which they handed to Amallia as she sprinkled them down into the glistening waves. 

“You all have our numbers?” Nadlia asked. Atello sighed.

“Yeah mom, we have all of your numbers,” he said, shaking his mop of black hair. “I’ll watch Amallia.”

“We got it, Mama ‘Lia!” Aveltan waved. He watched his mother and father pass by as Belisia tried to wipe a smudge off of his cheek. Trinilli, dark haired and golden eyed, waved to Malgam. 

“Have fun at the beach, dad!” She said as Malgam nodded, stopping to gain the attention of the young ones.

“We’ll meet at Murdeo’s at five; then we’ll be off to the cabin. Be aware of each other; and take care. Call us if you’re separated.”

“Will do!” Trinilli said as the others nodded. Malgam reached into his pocket and presented the five with a color-coded card. 

“Here; a treat for you all. There’s 500 Oli on each one.”

“FIVE HUNDRED??” Atello screamed. Trinilli jumped into Malgam’s arms.

“DAD YOU’RE THE BEST!”

Malgam laughed as Aveltan and Nashille also bounded forward, bombarding the king with bearhugs as they cheered. As they separated he knelt to hug Amallia as she waited her turn.

“Happy birthday to all of you,” he beamed at the excited little group before they parted. He watched them, like their own little gaggle of ducks, bob and weave through the streets, holding Amallia’s hand as they entered the shopping district. 

The five split and separated as well, with Malgam going his own way as he walked quietly through the streets. Recognized and waved to by his people, he made his way toward the beach. He had little intention to change out of his dark clothing. He didn’t much swim; and if he did, it would be later at the cabin. And not in the pool. 

He stepped off of the cement pathway, and towards a grassy, shaded park. Through it was the beach entrance, and finally the golden sands, his shoes crunching into the soft surface. The waves lapped against the shore, inviting playful visitors to linger in the mists of the crashing water. Boats dotted the glistening blue water in all shapes and sizes; from sailboats to larger, more luxurious vehicles. 

Malgam found a spot in a corner to take a seat and to breathe in the salty air. He rested his cheek on his folded hands and took in the sight of happy, excited visitors.

This was what his long days were about. The peace and prosperity of his world and his people. The reason why he and The Eight saw to their efforts of introducing new generations to strengthen and continue the lives through earth.

It wasn’t long until he heard a small commotion, and rising from the crowds was a balloon, lost by it’s small owner as he tried to reach for the string; but before Malgam could stand, the boy’s mother bounded forward, and she gracefully morphed her arms into wings, with feathers protruding from her shoulderblades all the way to her fingertips, and she lifted into the air to claim her child’s souvenir. She retrieved the balloon to her son’s happiness to the amusement of everyone around her. Malgam smiled, resting once more with the contentment that things were better than his heart often told him.

He received messages from time to time. From the kids, from Trinilli, pictures from Nadlia as she bested Koysov at pool, and Belisia asking Malgam if he would like for her and Tuvra to buy him a treat.

He sent messages to Boxrom and Floralis back home at the palace. They were busy after just welcoming a new daughter last month. A call chimed and he answered it, seeing Floralis on the screen holding the new addition, deep in sleep with a pacifier to keep her contained.

“How was the trip?” She asked. 

Malgam chuckled. “A bit hectic, but we got through it. How’s everything at home?”

“Well, I would say quiet, but Yulina decided to make up for all the noise herself after you all left.”

Malgam smiled as as the red-haired infant curled up in Floralis’ arms. Boxrom appeared behind Floralis as he walked past the couch.

“Hey! Bring us back some Mardra!” He ordered, talking about Pelterra’s famous meade, made from honey that bees collected from the pristine gardens. Malgam nodded.

“I’m bringing back plenty. I plan on having some tonight,” he said as Boxrom disappeared. Floralis looked at Malgam.

“So... are you going to talk to him?”

Malgam fidgeted. “... “It’s been twenty-five years since he offered, Flor.”

“And? I know you two are still as close as any of us.”

Malgam swallowed. “It... it was merely an invitation if my nightmares got bad. But... But they’ve been fine lately; I haven’t had any since my last rest.” That was nearly fourteen years ago now.

Floralis eyed him, uncertain if he was being truthful; or if he was letting fear of his own emotions drown his anxiety.

He was king, but he was still a man of great fear; and his current greatest fear was being partial to another one of his StarMates; like he’d been with Boxrom. Like he’d been with Nadlia. 

“Just spend some time with him? You two were inseparable for a short time after Boxrom and I wed; but now we barely see you two interact. Did you fight?”

No. There was no fight. Malgam had just... stopped talking. 

For a while; he’d stopped talking to everyone. The nightmares had become too much. Then he left for a ten year rest; to regain his strength as he was hosted by a human. Then he returned, and in celebration, the one who’d welcomed him back the warmest was Tuvra; and Malgam was quick to become expecting, which turned out to be Trinilli. 

Returning to his loved ones after a decade, Malgam had noticed the subtle changes. Nadlia’s countenance had softened some as hers and Belisia’s romance continued. Boxrom and Floralis were still finishing each other’s sentences. Tuvra had managed to become less of a hermit... But the closeness they encountered soon withered. That didn’t mean they didn’t love each other as much as they had; but it was apparent that the budding relationship Malgam had thought would bloom... simply never bloomed. Much like Tuvra and himself, it remained an eternal bud.

But Malgam’s heart still quarreled within his sternum when Koysov looked his way.

“No. But... If it’ll make you happy; I’ll try to talk to him.”

Floralis glowed. “I think it’ll do you some good; especially with all of you out of the palace for a few days. If anything, Malgam; just... take care of yourself.”

“Don’t worry, Flor. I’ll be fine. Thank you.”

Ending the call, Malgam looked back out to the sea; resuming the reminder that he was on vacation, surrounded by laughter and freedom.

He merely adjusted the high-buttoned collar of his shirt, making sure none of the scars on his throat were visible.

Checking his pocketwatch as the sun made it’s trek in the deep blue sky, Malgam stood after a few hours of enjoying downtime, and he returned through the park, where he happily kicked a soccerball back to a group of youngsters, who cheered at seeing High King Malgam intervene with their game.

Entering the Opello district, Malgam walked through, letting his eyes wander as he slowly made his way to Murdeo’s. He kept his eyes out for gifts, not only for the younger ones, but for his StarMates. For Boxrom and Floralis back home; and for little Yulina. For Edeli, who was somewhere helping one of her brothers as they researched medicine; he had to stop and realize if he had to buy gifts for everyone there wouldn’t be any room in either vehicle to go home. Instead, he merely windowshopped for now; perusing each different building. 

As five ‘o clock approached, he made his way to Murdeo’s; a handsome restaurant at the culmination of the Opello district. It wasn’t the fanciest; but it was a much-sought out retreat at Pelterra. The crowd outside murmured as he approached, and he heard the clicks of phones as photos were taken as he jogged up the steps, smiling at them.

Inside, he found the others, sitting as the kids continue to gabble and gossip about their exciting day. Trinilli waved excitedly as Malgam came into view, and she stood to greet her life-giver with an embrace.

“Dad!! How was the beach?” She asked. Malgam smiled, clearing her golden eyes of her dark hair that fell forward.

“Beautiful; just like you.”

Trinilli scrunched her nose in a grin. “I saw you sitting, but you looked like you were tired. We’re gonna go there tomorrow and swim!” She said, putting Malgam’s arm over her shoulders as they walked. “We bought swimsuits! We all pitched in and bought Amallia some floaties so she wasn’t spending too much of her Oli at once.”

“That’s very generous of you all.”

“Hey, Mal!” Nadlia waved He took his seat next to Tinilli as she leaned on Tuvra next to her. Aveltan and Nashille were both discussing shoes they’d found in a high-scale shop to their father. Tuvra looked exhausted; not at the cost, but at his sons’ space-consuming habits.

“You guys have like, fifteen pairs of shoes.” He said tiredly.

“Yeah but these have remote laces!” Aveltan described in awe. Tuvra didn’t budge.

“Yes. I oversaw the patent for those before you were born.”

Trinilli laughed as her half-brothers did their best to convince Tuvra to look at the accessories with them tomorrow, and she looked back up at Malgam, who’s attention, as usual, was elsewhere, and she chose to lean on him instead.

“Thanks for bringing us out, dad.”

Malgam happily pulled her aside once more. “Of course.”

“You seem kinda down. Wanna talk about it? Is it work?”

“It’s a lot of things; but it’s not this. It’s not you, Starling. I’m happy to be here.”

He was about to say more, but across a corner in the distance, Koysov came into view. Something about his posture and presence was different, and Malgam’s breath hitched. It wasn’t long until he realized Amallia was running in front of him, carrying a stuffed animal he hadn’t seen before.

“Look! Look!! Look what Papa Koy got me from the claw machine!!” She announced, holding the bunny plush, complete with a pink ribbon, close in a hug; and immediately the attention span of the four teenagers flipped like a switch.

“There’s a claw machine?! Atello begged to know.

“Where?!” Nashille asked, and Amallia pointed towards the corner she and Koysov had approached from.

“Back there, they have a lot of games! I saw them at the drinking fountains!”

A rush of scraping chairs, and a thundering of feet later, Nadlia was shouting “Let’s at least put in an order first!!”

An order of meals and a sudden exodus of youngsters later, the five adults were left at the table, slowly sipping colorful drinks and laughing.

“Here, Mal!” Belisia said, handing a box his way. “These are from Crumble!” 

Malgam tore into the seal to find a box of four cupcakes; heavy on the icing with huge, orb sprinkles. 

“Where’s mine?!” Koysov asked indignantly, slamming the table playfully. Belisia rolled her eyes and pushed an identical box his way; but she stood to give Nadlia’s to her with a peck on the cheek.

“We got some for the kids too; we’ve already taken them to the cabin.”

“They’ll be up all night,” Nadlia groaned.

Malgam smiled, crunching into a candy piece that had been lodged into some icing. “But that’s why we do this. So they can have the childhoods we didn’t have.”

He peered over, looking to Koysov, who nodded. Chatter resumed, to Malgam’s content, and his fellow loves kept each other entertained as Nadlia recounted her pool game with Koysov, and Tuvra and Belisia named the best shops and relaxation points. He closed his eyes, feeling his happiness warm and lulling in the crowd, smelling pleasant food as the alcohol helped soothe his constant fears.

Strange; he felt as though he was falling asleep.

Hands? No; there was no way anyone was able to grab his wrists and pull him... Right? 

Stop leading me.

Stop pulling me. 

His head felt the back of an operating table as he was pushed onto it. Not this again. Hadn’t they taken enough?

Dad?

Let me be; just for once; let me be!

“Dad!”

Malgam’s eyes shot open; he looked over to find Trinilli standing next to him, worried. 

“You okay?” She asked. “You’re sweating.”

Blinking, Malgam took the cloth napkin and mopped at his face. “Y-Yeah... I’m fine. I’m... I’m alright.”

His StarMates looked on as the kids, save for Trinilli sat excitedly as food was finally being dished out.

“I just... it’s been a long week. But now I can rest,” Malgam said to his daughter, who smiled and patted his hand. She held it there for a moment, feeling his muscles quiver.

Malgam peered up, just barely seeing Koysov stare in concern. He mouthed a ‘you okay?’, and Malgam nodded, breaking eye contact as he put his napkin in his lap, still shuddering.

Stars... he thought he was finally rid of them...

#my writing #The Hierarchy #PDatSK

[peonypearls-muddled-musings]

There are three different forms that pure Shapeshifters can take. Untethered, Anchored, and Sleeping.

The first Shapeshifters, who would become the Hierarchy, arrived from the stars on a meteor. They were invisible, microscopic, and very awake. By latching onto people, animals, etc, the Shifters are given different opportunities.

They can enter the living organism through the bloodstream and find their way to the nervous system, becoming no more than a parasite. The Shifter can see everything happening, but the host will still have all basic functions; however, they face death after being a host for more than several days as the strain catches up to them instantly upon the Shifter’s leave. The Shifter exits the host by causing a sensation for the host to cough; thus expelling the Shifter’s microscopic form. This is the Sleeping mode for the Shifter; they use it after being alive for hundreds of years to regain their strength. When they leave the host’s body, they will be able to perfectly recreate this host’s DNA, which also helps reboot the Shifter’s longevity.

Anchored is how most of the original Shifters got their start on Earth. Once again, they enter the bloodstream of their host, but the host is often a mother-to-be. Entering the bloodstream and latching onto the unborn child, the Shifter goes dormant again, until they’re literally reborn. The Shifter is in full control of the child, who retains all of their memories, but the Shifter remains dormant until the child is old enough to benefit from their knowledge. These children often show signs of early intelligence, both emotional and scholarly. The Shifter can choose to live life through their anchor body as long as they please; but the anchor will not survive once the Shifter leaves this form, since they’re merely a husk for the Shifter to dispose of once they return to their true form.

The true form, being the microscopic form, is often abandoned quickly as the Shifters begin amassing the knowledge to turn into different people and creatures. Once they leave the body of whoever they were tethered to, they can then recreate these features. And the more features they know, the more they can twist and mix and match to create their own ideal image; this is what makes an Untethered Shifter. Untethered Shifters can pass their DNA library onto future generations. Each member of the Hierarchy has a different internal library; and in order to preserve Shifter lineage and to strengthen the future generations, the Hierarchy does not limit parentage to marriages. Many children were born outside of unions in the Hierarchy, and they were all raised equally. Their children’s birth features, like any child, resemble their parents, but upon a certain age, they can begin shapeshifting; but they cannot enter the microscopic form. This has been researched by Boxrom and Tuvra

Humans now also play a new role with the Shapeshifters.

Most humans were driven out, or killed, or enslaved when Malgam led the Shifter Revolution. Those who were spared were sent to a huge prison out in a desert. These humans are often recorded for multiple purposes. Their health, their features, etc. These files are are often searched through to continue to make cures for illnesses that their genetics can contain that Shifters can possibly inherit. Others are seen by Shifters who wish to have a certain feature of theirs. If the Human allows the shifter to latch onto their body, they’re given special treatment until the Shifter leaves. If the human is still alive, they’re given very minimal freedoms, and are often kept as no more than pets. 

Some humans are chosen to be the host for a Sleeping Shifter, which means the Shifter will be attached to the human for at least 10 years. Which is a death sentence. However, when a human is offered to host a sleeping Shifter, they’re taken to a special home in a hidden neighborhood; away from any family or friends to live the rest of their lives in luxury, but with no true rights. Again, they’re basically a fancy pet who can’t leave their monitored, beautiful home. They’ll finally have warmth and food: and nothing else.

#PDatSK #so this actually contains backstory for Hell lol #surprise it was made by the Shifters themselves #cw body horror #ish #cw parasite #my writing #The Hierarchy #if this needs more tags let me know

[peonypearls-muddled-musings]

PDatSK - Hierarchy drabble - Malgam&Koysov

A drabble to hopefully get a bit out of my skull so I can concentrate on other things

****

He hoped it wasn’t true. What was he going to do with him?

Striding down the hallways as his dark violet cape billowed behind him in his wake, Malgam ascended a flight of imposing marble stairs. In the esteemed halls of the home of the Hierarchy, Malgam, his majesty; the first, the original, set his golden gaze upon the ornate doors of the library. The house of all Shifter knowledge, rule and law. Servants passed him, bowing as he continued a march, before yanking on the bronze handle of the handsome oak door.

It was true. And Malgam sighed at the sight in front of him.

“Koysov.”

Turning to face Malgam was one of his own. Koysov; just half a foot shorter than Malgam, blond with forest-green eyes. A shifter; his third in command. His lover.

And most recently the birthgiver of their first child, who was nestled in a carrier on Koysov’s chest, with only a noggin coated with flaxen fuzz peeking out from within.

“Mal! You’re off early,” Koysov said with a smile, setting another heavy book down onto the pristine mahogany table to join an already-building second stack of texts. Malgam closed the door to the library, doing his best to not let his frustrations make his moves. “Is everything alright?”

“Koy, go back to bed,” Malgam quietly insisted. “You and Audleth need your rest.”

“Oh stop,” Koysov said, turning back to the wall of books, unhindered by the carrier on his chest as he reached for another large book. “I have a job to do too.”

“I understand that, but it’s only been five days.”

“And when is it appropriate for me to return, then? He’s not my first child.” Koysov looked at Malgam, green eyes meeting glinting golden. “And he won’t be our last.”

“But he is our first,” Malgam said; gently, firmly, taking Koysov’s hand to prevent him from grabbing another book. “I want to have these moments unhindered. I need you to be resting!”

“Then who will do my job? Certainly you have enough on your plate, my lord. And I won’t just lay in bed while the lot of you work around me. I am capable, Malgam. I’m the scales of this land; I can’t let some aches and pains hold me back.”

“I’m not saying you aren’t capable. But I am saying that the rest of us can handle things as needed. For future reference.”

Koysov smiled. “Of course; future reference. And what if you choose to bear next? Who will handle things as needed?”

“The rest of the family. Nadlia, Boxrom, the others.”

“And where am I in this picture?” Koysov asked, his brows angled in confusion. Malgam’s unflinching countenance spoke with no doubt in his eyes or tongue.

“By my side. Just as I am here now. Just as I’ll want you to be.”

Koysov felt his face grow hot with the eyes of his king upon him. It had been nearly two hundred years since the Hierarchy came together; but only two years since Malgam and Koysov became fixed parts of each other’s souls. Koysov still often felt small in the gaze of his king; the most revered of the Shifters. He swallowed, and instinctively looked down, but Malgam tipped his chin upwards.

“Where else can I imagine you, but by my side?” Malgam asked. Koysov’s cheeks remained red; something he wasn’t fond of, which Malgam knew. Koysov hated showing his vulnerabilities. Which was why their son was so precious to Malgam; Koysov had allowed Malgam a part of his heart that hadn’t been seen in a long time. Malgam leaned into Koysov’s lips, with Audleth gently squished between their chests as they shared their affections in the silent library. Malgam pulled away, still able to see the evidence of missed sleep indented under Koysov’s eyes and around his lips. “Come back to bed. I want us to have this time; for us and our son; and our future.”

Koysov sighed and he closed his eyes. He allowed them to remain closed for a moment, feeling the tease of sleep before he allowed light into his eyes once again, opening them to the sight of his love, the one responsible for midnight hungers of mingling lips; responsible for the sounds that can only be deciphered as hymns meant for only each others’ ears; responsible for the slowly healing aches of Audleth’s delivery. Koysov laughed softly and finally relented.

“Lead the way, my lord.” 

Malgam’s mouth formed into a slight curve in his signature modest smile, his chest puffing in content. “First,” he said, unfastening the carrier as he took Audleth into his arms. “I want to see our son.”

Tiny and perfect, Audleth snuffled, scrunched his face, and curled into his father’s chest as Malgam held him carefully. Malgam wrapped him up in his cloak, tucking him close to his heart. Koysov smiled as Audleth looked at his father with his large eyes, which appeared to be turning golden as well. When it came to family, Malgam’s heart was always open. He looked upon Audleth with a visibly glowing countenance. Malgam already had a slew of children from within the Hierarchy; some of which he’d been the bearer of himself; but Koysov smiled seeing Malgam regard Audleth as though he was a first time father.

Koysov never imagined he would be escorted into the king’s chambers as though they were his own now. His own personal bedroom had not been used since long before Audleth’s conception. Many of the Hierarchy had welcomed children by Malgam, but life never stopped to talk about relationships. Their children were necessary to usher in the continuing future of the Shapeshifter colonies. But when it came to Koysov, something was different for Malgam. He found himself craving Koysov’s company, to the point where he would leave his grand bedroom to bunk with the lawmaker after another nightmare of his first life. 

Malgam entered the room after him, nuzzling and cuddling with Audleth, who cooed and smiled in return for his father’s visage of pure adoration.

Koysov put Audleth’s carrier up, and he removed his loose, roomy shirt, which, a week ago, had been much more fitting; but it was still comfortable as his body adjusted once again to living for one. He watched as Malgam looked to the double doors to the balcony that allowed a view out to the kingdom.

“I can’t remember the last time I was this happy.” Malgam said, looking at Audleth in his arms, then to Koysov. “You and I, our son; the rest of the family. I haven’t felt this whole in... It must have been before The Journey.”

“I don’t even remember before that,” Koysov said as Malgam stepped outside. Koysov hesitated; he didn’t feel quite certain about stepping outside while wearing elastic-rimmed pants that were made to adjust to his current curvature. He was close to retrieving his shirt until Malgam took his hand, leading him outside. 

“Those days no longer matter.” Malgam said, looking at Koysov as the sun began to set. “What matters is now.” 

Eyes set ablaze by twilight gazed upon Koysov, like the setting sun glancing upon the earth, setting her alight in glory. Malgam’s hand held steadfast to Koysov’s, a grip he’d learned tenfold during Audleth’s birth. Malgam then allowed his hand to trail up Koysov’s arm, to his shoulder, up to gently cup his lover’s cheek.

“Koy.” Malgam murmured, his fingers lingering in Koysov’s blond locks. “I want you to wear my ring.”

Air escaped Koysov’s lungs; his green eyes widening in shock. “You mean it?”

“I mean it. My ring, my crown, and the mark of my lips. I want you to wear them all,” Malgam said, his face burning with love and hope for the future and his family “Would you?”

Koysov put his hand over Malgam’s as it touched his skin. He kissed into his king’s palm, letting his body inch closer to Malgam’s. He was happy to finally kiss his king without the obstruction of pregnancy, and he reveled in the touch once again.

“Malgam, “Koysov murmured, his other hand wrapping around Audleth as they stood as a family. “I would go back and spend another hundred thousand years with you if I could. But to know we have so much more ahead of us; I will wear whatever you desire of me, my lord. I’ll wear rings and crowns; I’ll carry your burdens and children alongside you.”

“As I will for you.” Malgam vowed in a whisper meant only for Koysov’s ears as the stars began to dot the sky above them. Their foreheads met in a tender touch, able to taste each other’s breath. “I am no longer your lord, Koysov. From here on out, you are my husband, my heart, and my home.”

Koysov stood, chest to chest with Malgam as Audleth remained in their arms together; and he smiled, his eyes brimming with tears.

“And you are my husband; my light. My glory. My strength.”

“My husband.”

“My life.”

“My love.”

“My forever.”

#hey who wants some CHEEEEEEEEESE #I got ya cheese and ya diabeetus all wrapped up in one drabble come n get it #pdatsk #also yeah there are couples in the hierarchy but overall it's a poly system #and regardless of whether they're male or female they can all have kids together bc shapeshifting #also fun fact Malgam's gonna have Audleth's little sister next

[peonypearls-muddled-musings]

The Hierarchy clockwise from top left: Tuvra, Ev'Elle, Malgam, Koysov, Floralis, Boxrom, Belisia, and Nadlia

Malgam is the leader, and High Lord of the Shapeshifters of the earth. Koysov is his lawmaker and eventual husband.

Nadlia is his second in command and general; her wife, Belisia, is keeper of shifter arts and treasury; Boxrom is educated in medicine, his wife, Floralis, is the shifter historian. Tuvra is high scientist, and Ev'Elle is the diplomat.

While there are marriages in the Hierarchy, affections are shared equally between the 8 in the 3,000 years of their rule.

#my art #PDatSK #the Hierarchy

[peonypearls-muddled-musings]

Boxrom and Floralis, members of the Hierarchy and Malgam's most trusted court

#PDatSK #my art